I found Scarlett standing outside, waiting. “Hey, big guy,” she said.
“First-class too fancy for you?” I said. I noted she was still smiling, 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 friends. It’s just their way of having fun. Once they realize you’re not interested, they’ll get bored and find something else to amuse them, I promise.”
“Don’t worry, Scar. Your friends ain’t my type,” I said.
Her eyes widened slightly as she continued studying 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 through mine, guiding me. Feeling her hips and thighs pushing close to my leg as we walked, I fought hard not to get aroused, only halfway succeeding.
I followed along behind the girls as they left for the plane.
Scarlett 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 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 Scarlett 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 sized 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.
Having decided there was no one worth spending any more time inspecting, I settled into my chair and pretended to relax. I just needed to walk through economy and take a look upstairs, if they’d let me. Then I could fully relax.
The last few passengers boarded, and the crew made the final flight checks. The bustle of noisy activity washed over me, waves on an immovable rock. I thought things over, re-planning my route to the Paris hotel. I’d memorized the location of the safety deposit box and would go there as soon as possible to collect my guns.
Scarlett
I had watched Travis walk down to business-class, wishing I could have upgraded his ticket to first-class, but there was no room left. Resigned, I sighed and settled into my seat, getting comfy in my mini-suite as an attendant asked if I would like some food or drinks.
My mind flicked back to Travis, sitting alone in business-class. I so badly wanted to know more about him.
Needing something to do rather than just sitting around thinking about him, I decided to take a quick shower in the suite, applying a bit of makeup and brushing my hair afterwards. As I dressed, I left my top button undone, deciding to show a hint of cleavage. And then, unable to resist, I headed down to business-class.
When I got there, Travis’s seat was empty. My shoulders slumped and I crossed my arms, wondering how I had managed to lose my bodyguard. He wasn’t exactly inconspicuous.
I surveyed the rest of the cabin, feeling the eyes of a few men on me, though none of them were Travis. So I decided to sit in his seat and wait, fiddling with the controls of the entertainment system.
CHAPTER 11
Travis
I wandered back into economy after a while, trying my best to not look suspicious as I headed for the rear bathrooms, hoping the cabin crew would assume the other cubicles were occupied.
I walked down the plane on the right, surveying the passengers along the way. No one caught my eye until I reached the end of the plane.
Sneaky bastards…
There were three men sitting in a row on the right near the end of economy. All three looked hard and grim-faced. Eastern European or perhaps Russian, it was hard to tell. They spotted me as I walked up the plane, trying their best to look nonchalant. But I wasn’t fooled.
The words of one of my contacts rang in my ears—the warning I’d been given about a Russian crew out to get their hands-on Scarlett’s dad’s software. Possible high-level organized crime, or even secret military.
My gut told me these guys were serious. That they were mean, scarred, and vicious.
Why would three Russians be heading to Paris from San Francisco? Flying right at the back in economy, no less. As far as possible from my seat as they could get.
I looked around. The majority of the people near me were asleep or watching a film. I approached the three men, putting my hands on the seats on either side of the aisle in front of them.
“Having a nice flight, comrades?” I said.
They looked up at me, their expressions blank. One of them smiled cruelly for a second, letting me know he’d understood. The Russian in the aisle seat waved his hand at me dismissively, saying something in Russian that didn’t sound very nice.
“What’s that, Constantine? Got a problem?” I paused and leaned forward toward him. “Because if you do, that means I’ve got a problem. And I don’t think you’ll fucking like that very much,” I said, grimacing menacingly, feeling the adrenaline pump into my muscles. I tensed my arms, gripping the seats tight.
My gaze flicked to the bathrooms on either side of the aisle. Both were unoccupied.
The Russian rose to his full height, a good few inches shorter than me. Unintimidated, he shrugged as if to dismiss me and pushed me in the chest. He turned his back and headed for a cubicle, likely thinking I was just a random angry American who didn’t like Russians.
Well, he was right about the latter, but my approach wasn’t random.
As he stepped into the cubicle, I swiftly forced my way in, locking the door behind me. In the small confines, he was no match for my brute strength. I lied into him savagely with body blows, a series of powerful punches to the chest, abdomen, and stomach with one final uppercut into his solar plexus.
He collapsed, winded and pained.
“Listen, you fuck,” I spat, my finger an inch away from his face, “I know why you’re here. I know what you want, and you ain’t getting it. If I see you or any of your friends again, you won’t be breathing next time.”
He nodded, gasping for air and clutching his chest.
I pushed the cubicle door open to find the other two Russians staring at me. They made no move, aware that now wasn’t a good time for them to show their true colors.
I snorted at them derisively and walked back to my seat, my blood boiling.
As I walked away, I heard the door of the cubicle open. After a moment of bemused silence, the two Russians started laughing heartily at their colleague, who was presumably still half collapsed on the cubicle floor.
I arrived back at my seat to find it occupied. I could see a head poking above the seat, with headphones on. I approached quietly to see who had snuck into my seat, but if I had to guess…
Looking over the top of the seat, I got a view straight down Scarlett’s shirt and found myself staring at the mounds of her breasts and the top of her frilly pink bra. The fight had made me feel alive, and the view of her clea
vage rising and falling had awoken a feeling within me that I’d long suppressed.
I stood still, not wanting to move my gaze. I couldn’t tell if she sensed me. But if she had, I knew the longer I waited, the more of a pervert I looked.
Deciding she hadn’t sensed my presence, I placed a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She jumped.
“Oh. Hi, Travis.” She looked up at me and put her hand on top of mine. I felt a tingle of pleasure at her touch. “Sorry for stealing your seat. I just came down to check on you.”
Who’s looking after who here, beautiful? I thought.
“I’m all good, Scar,” I said. “Just had to take a look around, you know. No trouble to be found.”
We locked eyes for a few long seconds, holding each other’s gaze. I suddenly had the overwhelming urge to kiss her…
“How are things up there?” I asked, gesturing towards first-class and trying to redirect my attention.
She gazed into my eyes for a few long seconds. I got the impression that the minutiae of the first-class experience wasn’t what on her mind. Each time she stared at me, I got the feeling that she was trying to see straight through me. Trying to figure me out. It thrilled me and made me want to squirm at the same time.
“It’s great,” she said, “apart from Raven and Lonette. They’re starting to grate on my nerves already.” She chuckled. Her hand still on mine, she squeezed it gently. “Why don't you come back up to first with me since there’s no trouble down here? They’ve got a bar there. Plus, we still have about three hours left until we get to Paris.”
She looked up at me expectantly, her large brown eyes sparkling.
I considered her offer, thinking about how the only trouble was those Russians, who wouldn’t be trying anything any time soon.
Fuck it, could use a drink, I thought. And I wouldn’t mind looking at Scarlett for a few hours, either.
“You got yourself a deal, miss,” I said with an attempted smile that was really more of a rough grimace. But she smiled back nonetheless.
I frowned, looking up at the curtain between us and the stairs to first class. I put on a serious, hard face, my big jaw muscles bunching. “One thing though. If they don’t let me up there, there’ll be trouble.”
She frowned for a second, and then burst out laughing.
We spent the next two hours or so sitting at the bar in first class, talking. I was amazed to find a large fully-stocked bar complete with stools and a barman. I found the barman a bit too friendly for my liking though, and he pissed me off when he occasionally thought he was part of our conversation. Scarlett had found it tremendously entertaining when, after the third try at butting in, I’d told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own damn business.
I wasn't one for deep conversation, but I found talking to Scarlett easy. She was friendly, intelligent, and sassy, which more than made up for my social ineptitude.
She had pressed me on my past, and I had reluctantly told her about my stint in the military, and even mentioned my ex-wife’s infidelity. She had merely nodded, her eyes narrowed, making me feel like I was being analyzed.
We were now approaching our first destination, the luxury hotel in Paris. Scarlett’s dad had paid for a big blacked-out Mercedes saloon to be ready for me at the airport.
Raven and Lonette complained about the quality of the bottle of champagne in the central unit between them in the rear.
Scarlett sat in the passenger's seat. I could feel her gaze on me occasionally and when I had the chance, I would look back at her, only to find her smiling at me, absentmindedly playing with her hair.
Keep it together, Travis, I warned myself.
I distracted myself by concentrating on the road. I had memorized three routes in case we were being tailed, though after leaving the plane, there had been no sign of our three Russian friends.
Still, I was starting to get nervous. My long dormant libido had been aroused, and I was developing feelings for Scarlett. Lack of emotion for so long had left me confused at the turmoil I felt. And overriding it all was a desire to keep the girl safe. To wrap my arms protectively around her and never let her go. But such thoughts distracted me from my job, which only left me feeling angry with myself.
“We’re here, gals,” I said gruffly as I pulled up outside the grand front entrance to the hotel. As soon as I’d parked, the girls’ doors were opened by attendants, and two bell boys began unloading the trunk.
“About time,” muttered Lonette. I glanced back at her and Raven, seeing that the ten hours or so of drinking had certainly taken its toll on them. They looked like shit.
Scarlett, on the other hand, still looked radiant. She’d been sensible and had interspersed her alcoholic drinks with water and the occasional coffee.
I took the girls into the hotel while they checked in, memorizing their room numbers. They were on the top floor of the hotel, presumably in a large penthouse suite.
After they’d been checked in and I was confident they were safe, I left to get my guns from the safety deposit box across the street.
CHAPTER 12
Travis
The next few days, I decided to keep my distance from Scarlett, for two reasons. Firstly, I was making sure she didn’t distract me from my job; we were now in a place where serious danger could present itself at any moment, and I wanted to stay sharp. Secondly, I needed time to try and make sense of the feelings that had suddenly risen within me. I felt that she was special, and I’d fallen for her much quicker than I’d imagined possible. Even with my hard demeanor and my brutal past, I found myself afraid that I would get hurt, which made me push her away even more. But a nagging thought in the back of my mind kept telling me that I needed to make a decision because there wouldn’t be any second chances with this girl.
Scarlett spent the next five days with her two friends, shopping and spending far too much money on shit they didn’t really need. They’d spent the nights partying at expensive nightclubs, extravagant pool parties, big mansions, and even once on a luxury yacht moored on the river.
I’d stayed with them throughout but kept my distance. Partying wasn’t my thing, a realization I’d come to nearly fifteen years ago. I just wasn’t fond of going somewhere with music so loud that I couldn’t hear myself think, let along what anyone else tried to say to me. And it was pointless trying to talk to women under those circumstances.
Plus, how was a man supposed to enjoy his drink under such conditions?
Needless to say, instead of joining the girls in their partying, I became a silent, protective figure. Scarlett was the only one of the trio who even noticed me, giving me occasional smiles and waves. She would even come over to speak to me sometimes when her friends were goading drunken rich guys.
She’d confided in me that she was getting pissed off with her friends, who only wanted to look good, party, and sleep with random men. She said she’d been laughed at when she’d mentioned wanting to visit a museum, or even going out just for a fancy meal instead of getting drunk.
“Do what you want. Fuck what your friends think. You ain’t gonna be in Paris forever. Gotta make the most of it. So to hell with those airheads,” I’d said to her, gesturing to her friends who were taking selfies with some half-dressed guys eager to show off their top heavy, gym sculptured bodies. It was the most words I’d spoken to her in one go since we’d chatted on the plane. She had beamed at me in return, glowing radiantly from the small bit of attention I’d given her.
As it turned out, she took my advice and had persuaded the girls to visit a few museums during the day, and even talked them into dining at one of Paris’ most exclusive restaurants that evening.
Lonette and Raven had been making a show of being incredibly bored throughout the day as they’d traipsed behind Scarlett. While she had marveled at artwork, antiques, and various historic artifacts, they had spent most of their time plastered to their phones, flicking through pictures of their various exploits from the previous nights on Face
book and Instagram.
I watched them, feeling irritated over their seemingly pathological need to show off their exploits online, as well as the way they obsessed over taking perfect pictures rather than actually enjoying the moment. It seemed a bit soulless to me, but I'd grown up before cellphones, the internet, and even home PCs, so maybe I just didn’t get it.
At least Scarlett seemed more down to earth though, actually enjoying doing real stuff. Seeing her happy reignited the fire within me, and I was struggling to repress it for a second time.
CHAPTER 13
Scarlett
Much to Lonette’s and Raven’s annoyance, I’d taken great pleasure in dragging them through various museums throughout the day. I’d genuinely enjoyed the exhibits, artwork, science, and history—but I’d almost enjoyed their petulant boredom even more.
I’d gotten fed up with the constant partying, drinking, and mindless shopping. And I especially didn’t like the drunken rich guys who expected me to jump into bed with them.
Raven and Lonette, on the other hand, had enjoyed the attention, and had both had a precession of one-night stands with various sleazy men—much to Travis’s annoyance, as his flawless security perimeter had been breached. He would often sleep on an armchair outside of my room when Raven and Lonette were ‘entertaining’ in their respective suites.
The guys mainly ignored Travis, as they only had one thing on their minds. Travis tolerated them, but watched them carefully. I doubted he would think twice about swatting them like flies if they even hinted at causing any sort of trouble. I’d half hoped that one of them would give him an excuse to do just that; the thought of him showing his strength and dominance made me hot just thinking about it.
Unfortunately, none of the guys were that stupid.
As I was getting ready for our outing to the expensive restaurant I’d booked for the evening, I was partially getting ready for Travis. I wanted to flaunt myself in front of him and see if I could get away with some flirting, even if just for a few glorious moments.
Ruthless Hero: A Military Bodyguard Romance (Savage Soldiers Book 6) Page 5