Secret Triplets(65)

 

Jibril snapped his fingers, unlatching his seat belt. “I think I know what will help you,” he said.

 

“Probably staying buckled up will help me the most,” Audrey said, her eyes flickering toward the great, empty blue sky beside her. Was that really where they were? It seemed impossible.

 

“No, no,” Jibril said. He disappeared for a few minutes, fiddling with something behind Audrey’s seat. “I know the right medicine,” he said. “It relieves tension, brings happiness, and can even—wait for it—” He handed her a large glass filled with orange juice and champagne. “Make you laugh.”

 

Audrey’s mouth broke into a grin. She giggled, accepting the glass and feeling the tension in her shoulders recede. “Wow. You really are one surprise after another, aren’t you?”

 

Jibril joined her with his own glass, shifting deeper into his seat. “I like to think that about myself, sure,” he said. “I made them a bit strong if you don’t mind. I figure the work doesn’t have to begin until we arrive in Ash-Kahlbi, and we might as well relax for a bit. I’m guessing you slept no more than a few hours last night at the most.”

 

“I was pretty nervous,” Audrey said, already feeling the sweet juice and champagne fizz in her head. “But now I can feel it falling away.”

 

After finishing her mimosa, Audrey leaned her chair back, wrapping herself in a thick blanket and falling into a deep slumber, a bit too tipsy to care that the Sheikh was watching her sleep.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

 

 

 

 

Hours later, turbulence woke Audrey, jolting her chin against her chest. She shot up, causing the blanket to fall from her small body. The Sheikh eyed her warmly, bringing his now-familiar hand to her knee, comforting her. She clung to him, making eye contact for a single moment of longing before whispering, “I can’t wait till we’re on the ground.”

 

“I know,” he said. “In the meantime—”

 

As he spoke, the turbulence lifted, and her heartbeat slowed. “I’ll make us another round of mimosas.” As he rose, he banged on the door of the cockpit, calling out to Samuel. “You really gave the girl a fright!” he said.

 

“Sorry about that!” Samuel cried back. “We’ll keep it smooth from here on out.”

 

“He can’t plan it, of course,” Jibril said, bringing Audrey her second mimosa. “But he’s never killed me before.”

 

Audrey smiled at his half joke and said, teasingly, “Don’t talk like that. You’re just going to make me die of panic.”

 

The plane landed a few hours later, after another round of napping and several additional moments of panicked turbulence. In the end, Audrey began to have fun with it—knowing the Sheikh would find that reason enough to place his hand over her thigh and calm her. She enjoyed the fact that he got to admire the firm legs she’d created through hours and hours of hard work at the gym. At least they’re getting some notice, she thought, her stomach simmering with desire for him.

 

Once on the ground, the piercing sun dove through the airplane windows, warming Audrey’s forearms and causing the horizon to glow orange. Audrey squinted and reached for her sunglasses, remembering the drizzle they’d left behind in San Francisco.

 

“Is this Ash-Kahlbi or hell?” she joked, rising from her chair, her legs shaking beneath her.

 

As the door unlatched from the side of the plane, however, she bit her tongue, recognizing the paradise before her. Ash-Kahlbi had a desert climate, yes, but it was also mere miles from a bay, allowing several palm trees to grow. It was akin to an oasis, with sand rising like mini-mountains in the area surrounding the flat airstrips.

 

“Wow,” she said, unable to contain her excitement. “I had no idea…”

 

“The world’s been waiting for you, Audrey,” the Sheikh said. He took the steep steps down the side of the plane before lifting his hand and assisting her, one heel at a time, to the pavement below. “You’ve finally arrived.”

 

“And, as your personal assistant, I don’t have a single piece of information about our schedule for today,” Audrey said, knocking her head back and inhaling the hot, thick air.

 

“Ah, yes,” Jibril said, raising a thin notebook from his back pocket. He passed it to her, his face growing more stoic and business-like. “I think you’ll find the complete schedule on page three. You’ll need to be part-time secretary while on this trip as well, writing down the specifics of what is discussed and agreed upon in various meetings. I’ll need you to stay on the ball.”