Page 162 of 5+Us Makes Seven

I couldn’t afford to get my hopes up.

I grabbed my bag from the back of the limo, slinging it over my back. I took one last look at the crowd behind me, waiting until I thought the girls were likely to have checked in. Once through security, they were would be safe. And by then, I’d be right behind them.

I dumped my knife and gun in the glovebox and parked the limo, ready for it to be chauffeured back to the depot. I then grabbed my passport and ticket from my bag, and headed through to check-in.

I walked through the crowd with ease, people subconsciously parting for me as I walked directly to the checkout desk. I fucking hate crowds.

After checking in my single bag and going straight through security, I went through to the business-class lounges adjacent to first-class lounges. It was nice, but not quite as luxurious.

I found Alexandra standing there outside the lounge, waiting. She faced me, her face lighting up again. “Hey, big guy!” she said.

“Hey, miss. First-class too fancy for you?”

I noted she was still smiling at me, studying my face. A prickle of apprehension went through me, wondering what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

“Listen, I just wanted to say thanks. And to apologize for my two bimbo friends. It’s just their way of having fun.” She looked at me, expectantly. “And once they realize you’re not interested, they’ll get bored and find something else to amuse them, I promise.”

“Don’t worry, Lex. Your friends ain’t my type,” I said. I consciously didn’t include her in my statement, letting the suggestion that she might be remain unspoken. Her eyes widened slightly as she continued to study me for a second.

“Good,” she said and then paused for a moment. “I can take a guest into the first-class lounge with me. You interested?”

“Lead on,” I said, not wanting to admit that I had planned to spend the hours ahead of me loitering outside the lounge, keeping an eye on the comings and goings. “Bet they have nicer whiskey in there.”

I almost flinched when she hooked her arm into mine, guiding me back to the first-class lounge. I felt a building of sexual tension as her hips and thighs pushed close to my leg, and fought hard not to get aroused, only halfway succeeding.

Alexandra

I looked over at Cruz, sitting on his own in a big leather chair in the corner of the lounge. He had a large whiskey in front of him that he took occasional small sips of. And although he was making a show of reading a newspaper, I kept feeling his gaze wander towards me.

After bringing him into the lounge, we’d both grabbed a drink and chatted awkwardly for a moment. I could feel that his attention wasn’t completely on me, his eyes surveying the small pockets of passengers dotted around the spacious lounge. And I hadn’t liked it. I wanted his full attention; I needed to know if he was interested in me.

He was so frustratingly hard to read, especially when in his bodyguard mode.

When our awkward conversation ended, I had returned to my friends. Now that we were in the airport, the excitement had died down somewhat for them, and they had both grown bored.

I tried to engage them in meaningful conversation, so we chatted about our plans. But my gaze kept wandering back to Cruz’s scarred and chiseled, yet handsome face.

After a while, we were called personally to board the plane, escorted by airport staff. Unimpressed, Olivia yawned and Lucy was glued to her cell phone.

Cruz

I followed along behind the girls as they left for the plane.

Alexandra had asked if I could board with them, and the staff were all too happy to oblige, which wasn’t surprising considering the amount her dad had paid for the tickets.

We were first onto the plane, which meant I’d be able to keep tabs on everyone entering by business or economy. I’d checked out the rest of the passengers in the first-class lounge already and none of them had struck me as remotely dangerous. They were mainly just rich families and high-ranking executives.

I left the girls to their huge personal suite in first-class and took my seat in business-class, which was comfy enough. The seat reclined flat, boasting a length of two meters, which gave me just over two spare inches.

I sat at the front of business, as close to Alexandra as possible. When a pretty air attendant approached, I waved away the champagne she offered. “I’ll take a whiskey, darlin’. On the rocks.”

She smiled and hurried off to oblige.

I made a show of setting up my seat, standing regularly to survey the other passengers as they boarded. I even helped a few older ladies with their suitcases so that I could get a better look at everyone around the cabin.

Only one guy stood out. Grim-faced and observant, he was sizing me up with a calculated look in his eye, trying to gauge if I was a threat.

Don’t worry, Mr. Air Marshall. I ain’t a threat. Not to you, at least.

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