We enter the airline lounge hand in hand; dark woods and cream giving it the air of a high-end hotel. Groups of low-slung seats house business men and travellers, while a mother with two small girls help themselves to a gourmet-looking buffet. As we pass, the smaller of the two ankle-biters complains loudly. ‘But Mummy, youknowI don’t like edamame beans!’
Kai leads us to a table by the window, dropping our bags to an empty chair.
‘Do—do you own your own jet?’ I ask, unable to contain the words.
‘The company has several. I don’t own my own, per se.’
‘But for having a stake in the company?’
‘I suppose so.’ His head turns, following the noise coming from the tiny blonde now working on a full blown tantrum at the buffet stand. He winces as the noise level crescendos, the child’s mother trying unsuccessfully to reason with her little darling. ‘I do hope they’re not in our cabin.’
‘She’s got a good pair of lungs,’ I agree.
‘I really don’t know how you teach,’ he says, flinching once more at the continuing noise.
‘You don’t like kids?’
‘I prefer to view them remotely.’ Which means not at all, I guess. I note the evasion as not really an answer, slotting it away for further enquiry at a later date.
‘She needs a smacked bum,’ I say airily and watch as he raises one sardonic brow. ‘What? It’s the best way to stop a kid in the middle of chucking a tanty.’
‘The words of a sage,’ he replies, with a secret smile. A smile that isn’t really a secret at all, because I’m pretty sure he’s thinking of spanking me. Which makes me think ofhimspanking me. Which in turn makes colour rise to my cheeks and sends sparks of heat to my undies.I can almost feel his hot breath on my neck, the soft sheets twisted tightly in my fists. These flashes of the recollection as sharp as his hand on my reddened cheek. A shiver, almost like anticipation, glides down my spine, and I cough slightly, covering my heightened colour with a nonchalant neatening of my hair.
‘Do you prescribe the same treatment for adults, too?’
Not going there, not answering, because I know we’re not talking abouthisbum being reddened. ‘S-so, if you’ve got your own planes, how come you didn’t fly here in one?’
‘It’s not like catching a bus,habibti.I chose the quickest route. Besides, I’d have had to have fought several of the family’s matriarchs who were planning on escorting their numerous daughters on a shopping trip to Rome, I believe. Some wedding or other causing all manner of excitement and an urgent need forhaute couture.’ He shakes his head. ‘The other planes were booked already or due for maintenance.’
‘They took a plane shopping?’
Bring the jet around, Jeeves—I’m off to the Westfield Shopping Centre, ta-taa!
He chuckles but doesn’t answer, asking instead, ‘Can I get you a drink? It looks like there isn’t a waitress service.’
I eye the bar area and the high-end coffee machine. ‘I’ll have a latte, thanks.’
‘Come on and help. Those machines always get the better of me.’
Placing a cup under the spout, Kai presses a button, the thing whirring as it begins to grind beans.
‘Aw, you knew how to work it, you just wanted to hold my hand!’
His gaze is dispassionate as he hands me my glass cup. ‘Lord save me from the deprivation of self-service.’
‘You should try travelling in cattle class.’ I cast my gaze at the luxuries offered: Flash looking food, comfortable seating, and even champagne. It could besomuch worse—overcrowded seating areas, fast-food, and coffee in paper cups.
‘Believe it or not, this lounge is quite basic. There isn’t even a spa.’
I burn my lip on my coffee trying to hide my smile. ‘You’re taking the p—winding me up! Don’t tell me, you usually book yourself in for a facial before your flight?A spa?I’d never leave!’
