Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 1(115)

“You don’t have to—” I said, but the man already had the bag over his shoulder. He waved me on.

“Please, miss—ah, Tomlin,” he said, checking my ticket once more. “Is the rest of your luggage already checked through?”

“Um, that’s it,” I said.

“Pardon?”

“That’s all I have.” Every belonging of mine was stuffed into that duffel bag.

“Of course. My apologies, Miss Tomlin.” He walked briskly through the airport, even with my bag weighing on his shoulder. My sleepiness evaporated as I had to hurry to keep up.

We passed through two terminals and I was beginning to think that we would walk the entire rest of the way to Hungary when the man motioned me through a doorway to the outside.

“Brrrr!” I wrapped my arms across my chest, shivering under my hoodie. Outside a freezing mist blanketed the morning, and we stood on the icy tarmac with salt like grit under our feet. A huge jet rolled right in front of us, heading toward another gate.

“Not too far now,” the man said, and walked on, ignoring the airport workers who loaded suitcases onto a huge belted carousel. I followed meekly as we passed underneath the extended walkways toward a small jet plane sitting on the side of the tarmac. The wind pelted my cheeks with wet snow.

“Um, I don’t think…” I said, looking back to the airport with the 747s all lined up like fat geese on the side of the terminal. “Is this a mistake?”

The information agent shook his head.

“This is it,” he said. He escorted me to the side of the plane. The body of the aircraft sloped down to the tail, a sleek aluminum figure with a small staircase attached to the side. Only three windows checkered the side of the plane—the smallest passenger plane I’d ever seen. Stamped on the tail was a large letter H in slanted text inscribed in a circle.

A man poked his head out of the side of the plane, a pilot’s cap covering his light hair.

“The American girl! You’re early!” He thumbed back into the plane. “We can board you now, though. Come on in!”

I stepped up the stairs and almost fell backwards onto the tarmac in surprise when I saw the inside of the plane. Plush leather seats lined the sides of the plane, and dim lights made the entire interior glow. Extended tables held bottles of wine and champagne in sunken ice buckets, and velvety blankets and pillows were plumped up on each seat. Large screens in front of each seat beckoned with menus of entertainment. And it was warm.

“I can’t… this isn’t…” I couldn’t form a complete statement if I tried. “Is this…am I…the wrong terminal?”

The pilot laughed.

“You’re Brynn, right?” He had a different, slangier British accent than the information agent, maybe what they called Cockney. “I’m Louis. Mr. Herceg told me about you.”

“Eliot?” I slapped my hand over my mouth. I would have to stop calling him that.

“Nah, his brother, Otto,” the pilot said, a grin creeping over his face. “You’re talking about the mathematician one, right?”

“Right,” I said, turning my head away to look at the screen. Pretending to examine it while the embarrassment wore off. Why did it take me so long to stop blushing?

“This is his brother’s plane,” the pilot said.

“He has a brother?”

“You didn’t know? Good lord! Otto Herceg is a a member of the national assembly in Hungary.”

“National Assembly?”

“Yep, like one of your senators. He’s got more money than God, and almost as much power. But I have to say he’s not quite as handsome as his younger brother. Isn’t that right?” The pilot winked at me, and all the red I had been willing from my face came screaming back with a vengeance.

“Back to work, Louis. Get those checks done, and I don’t mean checking out the passengers.” A middle-aged woman climbed into the plane behind me, a pilot’s cap in her hand. She had evidently caught the tail end of our conversation.

“Don’t mind him,” she said, clucking at me as she walked by and placed the cap squarely on her head. “More beans than brains in this one’s head. Did he even offer you a drink?”#p#分页标题#e#

“I was just going to,” Louis said, his face tucked in embarrassment. I thought the woman was going to scold him for a second, but she just shook her head and peered around the plane.

“Well finish final check and radio up to the tower,” she said. “Let’s see if there’s any openings to takeoff sooner rather than later.” She picked up a checklist from the back of the cockpit door and ran one finger down the list, then threw it back down onto the counter.