Page 83 of Hostile Rival
“Noted.” He adjusts his cap, smirking. “That’s because you’d never met me. I like that I’ll be your first ever date. I guarantee you’ll enjoy it.”
I roll my eyes. “That's one hell of a guarantee to uphold. The flight is like twelve hours. How do you know I won’t get bored of you in that time?”
He dips his mouth to the side of my face. The tip of his nose brushes my ear and goosebumps prick all over my skin. “If we run out of things to talk about, I’ll find other ways to entertain you.”
“Good afternoon, sir.” The pilot greets Matheus at the top of the steps. “As requested, there won’t be any flight attendants on board today. Everything you asked for is fully stocked.”
Matheus shakes the pilot's hand and strikes up a conversation. I skirt around them, frowning at the luxurious interior of this particular private jet.
As agents, we have high-tech equipment and the best weapons money can buy at our disposal, because those items are crucial in our line of business.
But this—this is how billionaires travel and it doesn’t sit well with me. We’re on a mission. Technically, we’re traveling as Crow and Buffy…supposedly keeping a low profile and arriving in Colombia incognito.
My gaze darts everywhere. From the long corner sofa on my right to a duo of white leather recliners facing each other. Idump my bag and follow the flow of gray carpet to another, more private sitting area.
A huge flat TV screen is fitted into the unit. Bags of popcorn and candy are laid out on a low table. Bottles of liquor are secured to a shelf by a thin gold bar and a bucket of ice sits waiting too.
I sense him approach and glance over my shoulder. He’s shoving our bags in an under-seat storage locker, completely comfortable in his surroundings. Behind him, the jet door closes and from inside the cockpit, the co-pilot slips on a headset.
“Welcome onboard your Boeing 737 this afternoon.” His voice mumbles out of the speaker above my head. “Please remain seated in preparation for takeoff. We’ve got clear skies ahead and light winds for the next few hours. Sit back and enjoy the flight.”
Matheus’ confident strides close the distance separating us. I scowl at him as he advances. “What’s going on, Mat? I’m guessing Dragon didn’t arrange this jet for us.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Look at it for goodness’ sake. It’s like a house in the sky.”
“I charted it for our date,” he states simply, shrugging like it's no big deal. “We’re getting to know each other. And this…” He looks around us. “…is what I’m used to. This is who I am and sometimes I want to be a little bit fucking flashy. I’m not ashamed of it, Dani, so pick your seat.”
He nods to the big comfy chairs in front of the TV and flips off his cap. “We’re going to watch one of my favorite movies.”
“Let me guess…” I sit on the seat nearest to me and roll my eyes. “The Godfather? Scarface? Or how about Goodfellas?”
He chuckles and drops into the chair beside me, ruffling his dark bangs. “Look at us. We’ve only boarded and already we’re getting to know each other better. Guess again.”
I pretend I’m not interested and take off my black leather fingerless gloves. “Surprise me.”
“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.” He deadpans.
My eyes cut to his. “You’re not serious? A romcom…Jesus, you're a millennial. I’m going to need a shitload of liquor to survive this flight.”
Matheus laughs again and reaches for a bottle of whiskey, unscrewing the cap and offering it to me. “There’s a bedroom at the back of the plane. If you want to drink too much and strip for me, you can sleep it off before we land. I bet you’re a live-wire when you’re drunk.” He winks and my stomach flips. “And don’t worry, I prefer action movies.Kill Billis up first.”
Accepting the bottle from him, I take a gulp and hand it back. “I haven’t seen it.”
He makes a face at me, full of disbelief. “Well, if you don’t enjoy it, you’re dead to me.”
My smirk makes him smile too. “I can already tell I’m going to hate it.”
“I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s obvious we like the same things. And you’re picking the next movie.”
The engine fires up and the jet starts taxiing along the runway. “Before I press play, there’s something I need to know,” he says, looking me in the eye.
I cock a brow at him. “I’m a violent drunk.”
The hint of a smile he offers fades and my stomach sinks. “How did you get away from those men? Did they make you do a drug run into Mexico?”
My blood runs ice-cold. “Worst date ever…” I mutter. “Do we have to talk about this right now?”
