Flight Risk

by Kim Baldwin

  Alexi had told the driver take a long circuitous route to their hotel in Knightsbridge, so that Blayne could get her first glimpse of some of the major monuments she’d been looking forward to seeing. Big Ben and Parliament, Winchester Cathedral and St. Paul’s.

  Though the language was familiar and the culture similar, Blayne was immediately fascinated by her first taste of Europe. Everything was very different. The road signs and automobiles, the sights and sounds, and the surreal quality of driving on the left side.

  “Let us check in at the hotel first,” Alexi said. “I have identification there that will allow me to access my funds. That way we can combine sightseeing with shopping. I do not know about you, but I am ready for a change of clothes and I know some great places here, starting with Harrods. Nothing much they do not have.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Blayne agreed. “Can we go by Buckingham Palace? Oh! And the British Museum?”

  Alexi smiled. “Wherever you like.” I want you absolutely exhausted when you turn in tonight.

  Her assistant had booked them a spacious, airy suite at the Henry David, and at Alexi’s request had arranged for fresh flowers, a fruit basket and assorted chocolates to be waiting for them. There were plush terry robes and matching slippers, a full line of complimentary toiletries, and an impressively stocked refrigerator/bar.

  “This is unbelievable.” Blayne opened the French doors to the balcony and stepped out to appreciate their view of the greenery of Hyde Park. The balcony was surrounded by ornate cast iron, and furnished with a breakfast table and two reclining lounge chairs. “I’ve certainly never stayed in a hotel anywhere near this plush.” So damn romantic. What a waste.

  She wished this could all be easier. It was hard to stay angry with Alexi. Even though she still felt intensely frustrated, and on some level rejected, Blayne could see Alexi was only trying to behave responsibly. The threat to her life was real and immediate, yet she’d done nothing but distract Alexi almost from the start. There was no denying the attraction she felt, and she was pretty sure the feeling was mutual, but she had allowed it to become a game she wanted to win, a competition to see whose will was stronger. All she’d succeeded in doing was making it essential for Alexi to resist her.

  She had to change that, Blayne decided. It was time to let Alexi do her job and appreciate her for what she was already giving, instead of trying to force her to give more. She had no right to complain about Alexi’s behavior, Blayne thought with a trace of shame. Alexi had helped erase a great deal of her fear and anxiety, and had made their escape together feel more like a vacation adventure than a run for their lives. In fact, Alexi had spoiled her from the moment they arrived in Toronto and boarded their flight.

  At first Blayne had assumed she was receiving some kind of special treatment from WITSEC. As she and Alexi settled into their comfortable, wide leather seats and a flight attendant instantly arrived to take their drink orders, Blayne remarked, “This is really nice. Why didn’t WITSEC fly me first class the last time?”

  “The government does not fly people first class, as a rule.”

  “Didn’t think so. Why now?”

  “Well, you have been through one ordeal after another. And the worst was aboard a plane. I know it is taking a lot for you to do this, though you are concealing it pretty well.”

  Blayne studied Alexi’s face. She didn’t want to think at all about that flight, but it was unavoidable and looking at Alexi, against this backdrop, she couldn’t help but recall in vivid detail the moments before the explosion.

  “That bomb didn’t get me because I was preoccupied with you, you know… I stopped in the aisle because you were looking at me.” Blayne remembered the moment when their eyes met. She could have sworn she felt something special in that exchange. Something more than just Alexi recognizing her as a WITSEC witness.

  Alexi looked as though she was about to respond, but the flight attendant had interrupted them with the customary seat belt, oxygen mask, and life-vest speech, and two minutes later they were taxiing down the runway.

  “You hide everything a little too well, in my opinion,” Blayne said carefully. “Tell me, are you nervous about flying again?”

  “Of course,” Alexi replied. “It was a terrible experience. But right now, we are a lot safer up here than we are down there.”

  “Looking back, I guess it’s not such a bad thing I was knocked out during part of it.”

  Alexi was silent for a few seconds, then said, “I am glad you were not seriously injured.”

  Now, many hours later, Blayne thought about that statement. She wished there was some personal sentiment behind it, but she knew Alexi meant it only as a courtesy. She was always courteous, always polite. Always considerate. Like booking them first class seats to London. They couldn’t have been cheap. Neither was the Canadian lodge. And waiting in the U.K. or wherever for the trial instead of some Smalltown, USA was also going to be expensive. She supposed Alexi must have jumped through a lot of bureaucratic hoops to get all this.

  Blayne stared out the window of their big black London taxi. “Just how is it that the government is willing to fly me to London first class and put me up in Europe when I haven’t even signed a statement that I’m going to testify? Not that I’m complaining, but I mean, is this where my tax dollars go?”

  Alexi couldn’t suppress a half-smile. “Well, not exactly, no. Your tax dollars are not paying for this trip.”

  “What is then? Now I’m really curious.”

  “Your protection is being privately funded.”

  “Privately funded?” Alarm bells went off in Blayne’s mind. The first possibility she considered was that Cinzano himself might be paying Alexi to get her out of the country so that she couldn’t testify against him. No. Impossible. He wants me dead, that’s certainly clear. I can trust her. She felt ashamed of herself for thinking such a thing, even in passing. Alexi had more than proven herself.

  Alexi watched a myriad of emotions cross Blayne’s face, and she knew she would have to tell her the truth. Blayne was considering other darker possibilities, that was clear from her suddenly fearful expression. And even if her disappointment about the interlude on the plane was clouding her judgment, she still needed to know her trust was not misplaced.

  “Do not worry.” Alexi turned a little more in the capacious back seat of the cab. “I am paying for this trip, and your protection. Most of it, anyway.”

  Blayne’s eyes got wide. “You?”

  Alexi nodded. “It is not a lot of money to me. So it is nothing to concern yourself about.”

  “In other words, you’re wealthy?” Blayne was intrigued by this latest bit of news. Not that money mattered much to her, except maybe as a means to travel occasionally. But she hadn’t gotten the impression that Alexi was some spoiled rich woman. Quite the contrary, really. Although her formal manner and unflagging courtesy suggested a privileged upbringing, she seemed at heart a very down-to-earth woman, generally without pretense.

  “Very comfortable, shall we say.” Alexi smiled.

  “I figured there had to be money in that sack that Ray gave you.”

  “Yes. He is a trusted friend.”

  Alexi had a sudden impulse, but before she gave into it she briefly weighed the pros and the cons. She reached into her pocket for one of two thick envelopes of money she had retained, opened it, and began to count out several bills.

  “I believe I promised you I would reimburse your savings.” She handed a short stack of notes to Blayne. “It was around four-thousand, was it not?”

  “Well, actually, that included the five hundred the FBI gave me,” Blayne said in a low voice as she leafed through the bills. “I had about thirty-six hundred of my own money in there.”

  “That is two thousand,” Alexi said. “I will give you the rest once I have made arrangements here in London.”

  Blayne hastily split the stack, putting as much as she could comfortably jam into her wallet, and the rest into the
left rear pocket of her jeans. “You’re just going to give it to me like this? Aren’t you afraid I’ll use it to take off on you?”

  “I hope that you will not.” Alexi put the rest of her money away. “I believe you know now that you are safer with me than alone.”

  “Okay, got me there. Certainly can’t deny that,” Blayne admitted.

  “I do not want you having to shoplift things because you cannot afford them, especially in a foreign country, where such behavior is often looked upon more harshly than in the United States,” Alexi explained. “And if anything should happen to me, or happen to separate us, I want you to have some resources, since we are so far from all that is familiar to you.”

  “It’s quite a show of trust on your part,” Blayne observed.

  “You have earned it in recent days.”

  “Well, I’m not sure what to say. Except thank you.”

  “I advise you to hang on to your money, and let me pay for what we need as we go along.”

  “I can live with that.” Blayne could not help but search Alexi’s face for the woman she’d seen emerging from the lavatory during their flight. There was no sign of that brimming desire. Alexi was back to her calm, capable, in-charge self. It was infuriating and frustrating. She wished Alexi would show emotion more often. Excitement. Frustration. Desire. Anything. Blayne now had proof the feelings were there, even if they were constantly suppressed.

  She wondered how she could break through that barrier. Not by running at it headlong. Maybe she would just relax and enjoy, while they were in London. Alexi was great company. The best she’d known, since finding Claudia all those years ago.

  Damn it all. Where are you, Claud? I miss you so much. I bet you could tell me what to do about this frustrating but gorgeous U.S. Marshal.

  Blayne felt a hand on her shoulder and found Alexi watching her with a concerned expression.

  “Are you all right? You got a very sad look on your face, just then.”

  Blayne forced a smile. “Thinking about Claudia.”

  “You are close?”

  “Very. College roommates and best friends. Sisters, really. My only close family—she and her father, I mean—since the fire.” Blayne blinked back tears that sprang up unexpectedly. “I hate not knowing what’s happened to them.”

  “It must be very difficult. Especially on top of everything else you have to deal with,” Alexi said. “It would be a great comfort, I know, to share some of your worries with a friend.”

  Blayne met her eyes. “You’ve been a great comfort. Much more than that, of course. I don’t know how I could’ve ever come through this alone. I have no problems admitting that now. Sorry I was so stubborn in the beginning.”

  “You were following your instincts at self-preservation,” Alexi answered. “That is a good thing.”

  “You know, I…I have come to think of you as a friend, Alexi. A trusted friend. I hope that’s okay.” She studied Alexi’s face, hoping to find it was welcome news and that Alexi didn’t suspect her of some ulterior motive.

  But Alexi, as always, was difficult to read, and she didn’t answer right away. When she did, her voice was exceptionally soft, with an element of uncertainty and vulnerability that was rarely evident. “I am pleased to hear that.”

  “Great.”

  Alexi blew out a breath and looked out over the park. “Shall we take in some of the sights, then?”

  “Love to.”

  *

  It was eleven-forty, and Frisco was even more hyper than usual, having had his nightly constitutional delayed by his master’s lengthy phone conversation. By the time they finally set off around the block, the Jack Russell was nearly jumping out of his skin, anxious to see what new scents had been delivered to his domain.

  They had gone a good distance before a stranger joined the walk and they abruptly veered off of their normal route. Frisco sniffed the air anxiously. He scented fear coming from his master, and that put him on edge as well. He growled protectively.

  “Hey, what’s the matter with your dog?”

  “Nothing. He gets that way sometimes with strangers. Heel, Frisco.”

  “So? Why is it you have not been in contact?”

  “It’s too damn risky to be talking to you right now,” Paul Fletcher said. “Besides, apparently you know more than I do.”

  “Explain.”

  “I just got off the phone with that lodge, and that was the first I heard of what happened up there. Apparently two of your guys got killed, which I’m sure you already know… and my boss got injured, but I haven’t heard that officially. Which means, I’m pretty sure they suspect I’m the leak.”

  Despite the chill air, Fletcher had begun to sweat, suddenly even much more alert to their surroundings than he was before, especially to every van and panel truck parked within a reasonable distance.

  “That is unfortunate if true,” the stranger said.

  “Which is why I haven’t contacted you, and why you shouldn’t be here.”

  “We will be in touch. Now go back the way you came.”

  Fletcher turned and headed home. He made it only halfway there before a dark sedan cut him off, pulling into a driveway just ahead of him to block his view. Two men he did not recognize got out and reached for their identification badges.

  “F.B.I. Paul Fletcher?”

  *

  Alexi had, at one time or another, seen all of the sights in London that she ever cared to see, having been to the city countless times for business and pleasure. But seeing it all again with Blayne was much more fun than she had imagined it could be. What had started out as a way to exhaust her charge had turned into a day she never wanted to end. Blayne was splendid company, her enthusiasm for every new sight and sound and experience delightfully contagious.

  They strolled through the British Museum, admiring Egyptian artifacts and Michelangelo’s drawings, the Rosetta Stone, and Easter Island statue. Next stop, a walk up the Mall to Buckingham Palace to watch the changing of the guard, then a quick jump on the Underground to visit Covent Garden and a variety of shops along Oxford Street, accumulating an increasing number of shopping bags as they went.

  Through it all, Blayne remained vibrant and enthusiastic and energized. She seemed different, more relaxed. Alexi was pleased. She had done the right thing by bringing her abroad. The distance had made her feel safer, just as Alexi had intended, and in turn she was less on edge, less determined to prove she could impose her will, in every way. She was so pleasant to be around Alexi nearly forgot why she was trying to wear her out.

  When they could carry no more parcels, it was back to the hotel for a quick change before dinner.

  “How shall I dress?” Blayne poked eagerly through the multitude of bags and boxes she had scattered all over the plush couch in the living room of their suite.

  “Well, if you are up to it, I thought we might catch a play in the West End after dinner. So I would say dress accordingly. Did you buy some nice evening wear?” Although they had spent hours shopping, Alexi had not seen half of what Blayne had purchased. Often they were each busy with their own selections, and on one or two occasions Blayne had been adamant that she wanted to conduct her own transactions in private. To avoid another shoplifting episode, Alexi was more than happy to oblige.

  “I think I can find something appropriate,” Blayne said with an impish grin.

  Her expression unnerved Alexi, for it was that same I’ve-got-plans-for-you look that she had on her face during the Tavli game. And she knew how that had ended. With her rushing to her room, desperate to put her hand in her pants. Well, at least tonight, I have someone I can call if she gets me in such a state again.

  They retired to their separate bedrooms to change.

  Alexi chose a classic but elegant ensemble, the clothes well tailored for her tautly muscled physique. Black dress trousers over black leather boots. A finely-made Italian cotton dress shirt, white, with wide cuffs and a large collar. And to finish the look, her
well-loved black leather suit jacket, which had held up amazingly well through all of their traveling.

  The white shirt was a nice contrast to her bronze complexion, and the monochrome color scheme made her Aegean blue eyes even more vividly striking. Satisfied, she stepped out into the living room, and stood, transfixed, watching Blayne unobserved as she preened before a full length mirror, turning this way and that, checking her appearance.

  Her hair and makeup were flawless. A bit of rouge, some color to her lips and eyes, her coppery short cut styled and primped in a way that framed her face perfectly and made her appear older and even sexier than usual.

  But it was the dress that really did Alexi in.

  Blayne had chosen a black cocktail gown, low cut to expose a generous display of cleavage and made of a shimmery material that clung to every curve like her body had been poured into it. The hem ended slightly above mid thigh, and a slit up the side left little to the imagination.

  To complete the look, she wore a delicate gold necklace with matching earrings, thin gold bracelets, and low black pumps that brought her roughly to Alexi’s height. She looked exquisite, irresistible, and eminently fuckable, and Alexi was not certain how she would survive the night.

  As though Blayne could feel someone watching her, she turned in Alexi’s direction, and her smile lit up the room. “You look…just incredible, Alexi. Wow.”

  Look who is talking. Oh, you are one seriously dangerous woman, Blayne Keller. Seriously, seriously dangerous. Alexi tried to clear her head to think up an appropriate response, but her body was reacting to the provocative crease of cleavage, the perfect round ass, and definite come-hither expression, all for her.

  A self-satisfied smile came over Blayne’s face as she sauntered seductively across the room to meet her. “Like what you see?”

  Alexi struggled for a neutral expression as she cleared her throat. “You look very nice.”

  “Not so much of a kid now, eh?” Blayne teased. “Isn’t that what you called me?”

  Alexi had to smile. “An erroneous assessment, I admit.” You are every bit a grown woman tonight. And if we do not get out in public right this minute, I cannot be held responsible for my actions.