Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Good-looking, my sister had warned me about him. Not even close. Jason, Shawn’s brother, was good-looking in a rough-and-tough sort of way. My sister had always liked the bad boys. And while Jason, the head of Osterhägen security, looked more conventionally dangerous, I knew better.
The taller brother in the suit was cunning and manipulative, making him far, far more dangerous than the one who carried a gun.
“Ma’am,” the ticketing agent said, waving me over. “I’m ready for you.”
I pulled my bag along as I walked up and dropped my passport on the counter. “Hi. I checked in for my flight yesterday, but my boarding pass disappeared from my phone, and now I can’t pull it up.”
“Let’s take a look,” the woman said, scooping up my passport and scanning it in.
It was insanely early, and I’d been bleary eyed in the back of my Lyft this morning, not understanding what I was seeing in the app. The only plus side to being at the airport so early was I was first in line, waiting for the counter to open at four a.m.
The agent leaned in to better study her screen. “This was for the trip to Amsterdam, correct?”
“Yes.”
She pressed her lips together. “The system shows this reservation was canceled.”
“Wait, what?” I stiffened. “No, that has to be a mistake. I checked in yesterday. I had a boarding pass.”
The woman nodded as she peered at her screen. “I see that, but I also see a cancellation was logged last night. Looks like it was done over the phone.” She lifted her gaze to me. “Your travel credit should show up in your account right away, but sometimes it can take the system a few hours to update.”
I stared at her with disbelief. “But I didn’t cancel it.”
The ticketing agent looked as lost as I felt, before turning her attention back to her computer. “So, I can’t rebook you on the six twenty-five because there aren’t any seats available.” She clicked her mouse a few times. “I could put you on standby for the seven fifty-five flight tonight. It gets into Amsterdam tomorrow morning at eight fifteen.” She glanced at me, paused, then looked back at her screen with confusion. “Kara Hayward?”
“Yes?” I said, desperate to keep my temper in check because, even though it wasn’t her fault, I knew my whole day was falling apart.
The agent pointed over my shoulder. I turned—
My mouth dropped open.
A man in a black suit stood to the side of the bank of counters, a sign bearing my name held in his hands. Rage flooded through my veins.
“That asshole,” I hissed under my breath, causing the ticketing agent to startle. I flashed her a polite smile and snatched up my passport. “Sorry about that. Thanks for your help.”
I jerked my roller bag along as I stalked toward the man with the sign. “I take it you work for Shawn Dunn?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’d like to offer you his plane so you can return home.”
I gripped the handle on my bag so aggressively my hand began to ache. How dare he cancel my flight, leaving me stranded with no other option? I glared out the windows beyond the man as I fought the knee-jerk reaction to instantly say no.
But I needed to get back to the office. I’d pushed back an important meeting, destroying the rest of my team’s schedule, so I could be in New York to terminate Scott’s employment in person. I couldn’t push tomorrow’s meeting a second time.
I spat it out. “Fine.”
The man took my bag and led me to a town car waiting outside, and a minute later it swept me away from the international terminal.
I scrolled to Shawn’s name in my contacts on my phone, preparing to call him and give him a piece of my mind. It was ungodly early, so it was doubtful he’d be awake, and the idea of rousing him from the dead of sleep was satisfying. But then I pictured him in bed, all shirtless and hair askew, with a days’ worth of stubble darkening his jawline, and there was an uncomfortable fluttering in my stomach.
What version of him would I get? Sometimes he’d send me things in German that I’d had to translate. They were always filthy, filling my body with steam, and it was the last thing I needed right now.
I put my phone away, took in a cleansing breath, and forced myself to cool down. My temper had caused me a mountain’s worth of problems in the past. I was determined not to let it happen again.
At the private airfield, a large, white jet gleamed in the runway lights. It was both impressive and intimidating. A perfect example of how different Shawn and I were in every way.
Despite my unease with wealth, excitement raced up my spine. I’d only flown business class a handful of times in my life, and every time that experience had felt novel and special. So, an entire private plane to myself? I could barely fathom what it’d be like.