Fading Scars

Chapter VI - Unexpected Alliances and Tempting Tensions.

"And what were you doing on the plane?" I was afraid to ask so as not to upset him more, but my curiosity was stronger.

"I own it. I already told you."

"But... you own it. There it is! That's what doesn't make sense."

It was not common for owners to travel on commercial planes. To save precious time, it was certainly easier to go on private planes. That was my thoughts.

"Due to the pandemic, all airlines suffered. It was no different with mine. At the moment, I am traveling on sporadic commercial flights to find out what needs to be improved. We need to be competitive."

Um..., I replied. It was explained in a certain way, but he also had pharmaceutical industries and many other things that didn't depend on tourism, so he wasn't poor.

He walked around the table and approached.

"Any more questions? Is your research having any effect?"

"Why me?"

"He didn't expect such a question." I continued before my courage failed me.

"Am I kidnapped? Is this a kidnapping?" For the first time, I said it out loud.

He didn't expect it either. He stopped... He composed himself.

"Only if you want to be..."

"It didn't seem like I had much of a choice."

After all, everything led me to be at his house without me thinking about what happened.

"Do you want to leave?"- He said that through clenched teeth, as if he didn't mean it. He distracted me. He seemed vulnerable to me in a split second.

"No. " I heard myself answer.

He smiled and kissed my lip lightly. I didn't expect that and I had no reaction.

"Ok Sherlock Holmes. Our flight is at 8 am, if you still want to go to the concert."

He raised his arm to let me pass, I was trapped and hadn't even noticed.

"- I want it!" - I said categorically. I wouldn't miss the concert even for Michael Reed.

I left the office; at the door, I looked back.

"Good night, babe."

As? I? I smiled... He smiled back. In that half-light bathed in Vienna's moonlight, he definitely looked like a prince in his castle.

What was happening, I had known that man for a day. One? I don't know if it reached one.

The next morning, we were already crossing the airport hall filled with many business men and women. This time, we didn't go to the commercial plane area. We went to a private area—the jet plane area. He led the way, and I entered the cabin. There was no one in the pilot's seat, but there was a co-pilot. I said a quick good morning, and he responded.

I sat down with my fast fashion clothes from my suitcase. I didn't touch the wardrobe. He kissed me on the forehead.

'This won't get out of here alone,' he told me.

I understood that he was the pilot. My God... what didn't this man know how to do?

I tried to focus on my tasks before putting my phone in flight mode. I texted Alana saying I was fine and that I would see her in Podgorica. I was going to Podgorica with a friend. That's all I told her in that text. I knew she would only see it when I was already flying.

I took the opportunity to leave a text for my mother, reaffirming that everything was fine and sending her the few photos I managed to take of Vienna from the huge window of Reed's apartment.

I turned off the cell phone.

The flight was surprisingly serene, and soaring over Montenegro felt like stepping into a scene from Alice in Wonderland. It was breathtaking – lush green fields, serene lakes – a picturesque country that seemed straight out of a romance novel.

I relished the journey, which passed quickly. He even checked in on me once to make sure I was okay. I managed to read a few pages of a book on my e-reader, and I couldn't resist capturing the picturesque views with my camera. Every snapshot was Instagram-worthy; the country was stunning. It was a pity that certain areas were still deemed unsafe due to leftover mines.

Montenegro, prior to gaining independence in 2006, had weathered numerous wars. The scars of the conflicts, especially the Kosovo war that involved NATO intervention, were still evident. The aftermath included a bombing campaign against Yugoslav military targets.

Somewhere in the middle of the flight, they strolled through the cabin offering glasses of champagne, although it seemed like no one was particularly interested in sipping them. I stole a few sideways glances at Reed's team, assuming it was his crew. Apart from me, there were three others on the plane. Since my seat was toward the front, it wasn't appropriate for me to wander around and observe the rest of the passengers. To my surprise, a personalized lemonade arrived just for me, complete with my name on it. 

The flight attendant handed it over and said, 'The boss mentioned you're not a fan of champagne.'

 It touched me. I liked that he remembered from the last flight – my expressions when sipping champagne. He was attentive. A man as important as Reed took the time to inform the team about my personal tastes. Another point for Mr. Olympus.

I kept soaking in the scenic view out the window, enjoying my mocktail that tasted like a non-alcoholic margarita – you know, the best kind of lemonade.

Lost in thoughts about how stunning the country looked and how it had bounced back despite its youth, MY pilot's voice broke my reverie, announcing our arrival. A comforting warmth spread through me at the sound of his strong voice.

As we smoothly landed, he switched off the engine.

'We've touched down!'

He stood up, casually making his way to me.

'Missed you, babe.'

'Hmm...'

Why did I always find myself at a loss for words with this guy? He planted a kiss on my lips, making it look like the most natural thing for him. We stepped off the plane to find a car waiting on the runway, a carbon copy of the previous one. He motioned for me to sit beside him.

'The journey's a bit longer... about 1 hour and a half by car,' he casually mentioned, putting his arm around me as an invitation to lean in. And lean in I did; he pulled me close. The chemistry was already high. He kissed me. A breathtaking kiss. We were already partially lying down and he was on top.

" What do you have that won't let me concentrate?"- he said, revealing something that made me want him even more.

- Me?

He kept kissing me. He looked thirsty. I responded. I tangled my hand in his hair. It wasn't smooth and it wasn't frizzy. He always kept it with a perfect military cut. He bit my ear lobe and my blood boiled. Suddenly, I wanted it. I kissed him. Me? Couldn't image myself in that situation but...

I grabbed the shirt that was on his immaculate suit and started trying to unbutton it. He smiled.  

"Did I catch you off guard? We've got an audience." 

The driver, no matter how professional he was, couldn't help but follow the scene in the rearview mirror. I recovered, embarrassed. A little more, and he would leave me a note on the seat and get out of the car. I pushed the thought away, feeling bad. What was happening to me?I adjusted my skirt, which was threatening to ride up, and he joined in, helping me get back in order.

"I don't want to share you with anyone," he said, gently lowering my skirt to cover a part of my thigh that was already showing.

The driver caught onto the message and focused intently on driving. He wanted me, that much was clear. But why was he so restrained, so gentlemanly? I had already made it quite clear that I wanted him. Or maybe, in that moment of almost madness, I wanted him.