The Virgin's Choice
Page 8
Narrowing his eyes, he looked at her. “They were in an accident. She’s in a coma. No
t that you would care.”
His tone made it clear he thought Rose was a greedy, heartless brat. She—who’d worked two jobs to pay her own way through college, to help her parents survive since the family business went bankrupt!
Rose blinked fast. At that moment, the engine grew louder as the jet started to move down the runway. She nearly stumbled as it jolted forward.
“Sit down,” he said.
Ignoring the lump in her throat, she braced her arm against the ceiling and lifted her chin. “Don’t you dare tell me—”
“Sit down,” he barked.
Her knees failed beneath her and she fell onto the white leather couch with a whomp. She realized to her shock that her body had obeyed him, even when her mind had refused.
The plane accelerated down the runway as he sat beside her. She gripped the armrest. He calmly reached for his laptop.
Once they were airborne, Rose glanced out the tiny window. All she could see was endless darkness with eerie moonlit clouds.
No one could help her now. She was on her own. She took several deep breaths, trying to keep herself from panicking. “Where are you taking me?”
He didn’t answer. He stared at the screen on his laptop and typed rapidly, then took a sip of the Scotch that the smiling stewardess brought him on a tray. Rose waited until they were left alone again before she spoke.
“Where are you taking me?” she repeated more forcefully.
“It’s irrelevant.”
“Tell me where.”
“I hardly think you’re in a position to make demands.”
“You kidnapped me!”
“Such a melodramatic word.”
“How else would you describe it?”
“Justice,” he said coldly.
“You don’t have my passport.”
“That’s all been arranged.”
“How?”
He shrugged. “As everything else is. For a price.”
Watching beads of water condense on the outside of his glass tumbler, she clenched her hands into fists. “Tell me where we’re going right now,” she raged. “Or else…or else…”
He looked at her, his dark eyes amused. “Or else?”
Oh, how she wished she had her brother’s old baseball bat, or even a heavy handbag to threaten him with! She tried to look very mean as she thundered, “You will tell me where we’re going or I will make this flight your own private hell!”
Xerxes stared at her for a long instant. “Now that I believe,” he said mildly as his lips quirked. Typing a few last words on his computer, he turned back to face her and said, “I am taking you to Greece.”
“Why?”
“To force Växborg to give me what I want.”