Page 1 of Daddy's Stowaway

Chapter 1

Antonia

I stalked a couple through the airport, hoping one of them would get sloppy and either drop their tickets or some cash, preferably both, which seemed greedy, but one could hope. I was done with Detroit and my childhood baggage, hoping to get lucky and snag myself a free ride anywhere.

Well, hello, sexy!

A gorgeous man walked by, offering me a smug smile. He looked rich—like his shoes were worth more than last year’s rent, rich. I noticed he carried a briefcase and an overcoat, which hung casually over one arm. He stopped to speak with a couple of flight attendants standing a few feet from where I was leaning up against a post.

As his back was facing me, I had an unobstructed view of his chiseled solid muscles, evident through his dress shirt. His posture was strong, and his demeanor reminded me of a barely contained animal. I easily imagined him as a giant cat, with a tail swishing through the air impatiently as he spoke with the two women.

My eyes traveled to the strong forearm that held his briefcase. He had the sexiest arms I’d ever seen. The other forearm was hidden beneath his trench coat, but I had a clear view of his bulging bicep.

Hold the phone!

I could see his boarding pass hanging out of his trench coat pocket. Pilfering his ticket would be one of my less risky jobs. I walked past the trio and acted as if I tripped, dropping my purse, its meager contents spilling on the floor. “Oh, my,” I exclaimed.

“Let me help you,” the gorgeous man in the suit said as he bent down to retrieve a runaway lipstick. I joined him and grabbed his ticket, pocketing it without anyone noticing.

By the time he handed over my lipstick, I had all my items stored back in my purse. “Thank you kindly, and I do apologize for interrupting your chat. I don’t even know what I tripped over, but I do get anxious before I fly.” Before anyone could respond, I left, quickly finding a bathroom and locking myself in a stall.

Opening the ticket envelope, I was shocked to see I’d appropriated a first-class ride. Holy crap! I read down the ticket looking for the location. Having never traveled, I had no idea where to look. Detroit to Tahiti? What? I gulped and looked for a return date. Shit, no date; it was an open ticket.

Was I brave enough to go to Tahiti? I didn’t even know where it was, but I pictured an island with palm trees, where it was never cold, where the fact I didn’t own a coat wouldn’t matter, and that settled it; I was going to Tahiti. I couldn’t do another winter in Detroit. The weather was already cold, and it was only early fall.

I grabbed my I.D. out of my purse and made my way to the gate. When I arrived, passengers were already boarding. I handed my boarding pass and ticket to the woman at the entrance and prayed she’d let me on the plane. Her phone rang, and she excused herself, answering it. Meanwhile, I shifted from foot to foot, imagining the worst possible outcome, and was about to bolt.

If I went to airport jail, then real jail, I had no way to pay my way out and no one to stand for my bail. Instead, she hung up the phone and handed me back the ticket, and ripped the boarding pass in half.

“Enjoy your flight,” she said with a smile.

With my heart hammering, I hustled down the passenger boarding bridge and into first class. I found my seat and marveled at the spaciousness. I didn’t know what to do with my purse, so I held it on my lap after buckling in. Thankfully, the plane was mainly loaded when I boarded, and I didn’t have long to wait. I was offered a drink and asked for a double Moscow mule and a bottle of water.

I downed my pre-flight drink like it was the water and sipped my water like it was the Moscow mule. It went a long way in settling my nerves, and it took me a moment to register the man I’d stolen my ticket from was boarding the plane.

Shit, shit, shit! Now, what do I do?

He took his time removing his trench coat, which he must have put on after I’d scurried away, then handed it over to the fawning airline attendant. I rolled my eyes.

So he’s gorgeous. Get a hold of yourself, I tried communicating with a scowl on my face when she glanced my way.

She hurried away with his coat, and he sat down beside me. I closed my eyes, pretending to have fallen asleep.

“Hello, I’m Alexander Savage, and you are?”

I opened one eye to see a hand only inches from me.

“Toni, nice to see you again.” May as well tear off the band-aid and get it over with. But if he knew what I was referring to, he didn’t acknowledge the fact.

“Toni, is that short for something?”

“Yeah, Antonia.”

“And?” He looked at me expectantly.

“And what?”

He offered me a small smile, but his eyes looked anything but friendly. I wondered why keep up the guise and have a polite conversation? Why not have me arrested and forcibly removed from the plane?

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