Chapter 13
A lexandra
A knock rattled my door.
“Hold on a sec,” I told Dori who was on a video call, lounging on an open balcony in what looked to be a night-time mediaeval city.
Riss waited on the other side. She handed me a white card. “Left for you by Mr Gordonson, ma’am. He said you expressed an interest in flying.”
I blinked at it. “Oh, right. Thanks!”
I scurried back to Dori with my treasure. For the past hour, we’d hunted Raphael down but got nowhere. Though he was back on the team, I had no idea how long for, and both of us needed to stalk him in detail. Yet we’d failed hard. He wasn’t friends with anyone I knew from uni. He wasn’t on the student page. The man was a ghost.
“He sent me this!” I squeaked.
“Picture, immediately,” Dori demanded.
I obliged, and we both stared at the card.
“It’s for a flight school,” he observed.
“Do you think he owns it?”
“Why would he be working for you if he owned his own business? Perhaps it’s a family company.”
“Then he’s into flying,” I murmured.
“Well, doesn’t that just elevate him above the common man. The flight school has socials. Checking them now.” He tapped at his screen. “Found him.”
My jaw dropped. “What? Where?”
A whoosh brought a link to my phone, then one tap and I was staring at a pilot profile for Raphael. Most of the pictures were of shiny helicopters, but I opened one with him front and centre and sighed.
“Damn,” Dori drawled. “Look at that slutty little number where his jumpsuit is open to expose his throat.”
I found the picture. Raphael was scorching hot.
“Are you going to call him?” Dori asked.
“I still don’t have his number.”
“You can ring him through this profile. See, it’s at the top.”
So it was. A phone symbol to tap and instantly dial him.
Nerves constricted my stomach. “What if I just start with a text?”
“Coward. Though saying that, booty calls generally come about through chat. Sext him up good.”
“I’m not going to hit him up for…that.”
Dori tapped again at his screen then snorted. “My Alex alert just got another bird picture of you from this afternoon. That was genius, if I do say so myself.”
“Hey, it was my idea.”
“Nah, I want at least half the credit. The press has gone nuts.”
“I’m going to hang up on you now and think about what to say to Hot Bodyguard.”
“Screenshots or it didn’t happen.”
I disconnected and stared at my phone like it could bite me. Then I pulled on my big-girl pants and wrote out a text from my pseudonym account.
PennyAllen: How did you enjoy the animal show earlier?
The message displayed as read almost instantly, but there was a pause before a reply came in.
Highlandspilot: How do I know who this is?
Ever the cautious bodyguard. I snapped a picture of my face.
Highlandspilot: Ah, my regular Disney princess, taming birds with biscuits in her pocket.
Ha, so observant. No one else had seen me lay my trails.
PennyAllen: Actually, it was chopped nuts, stolen from the kitchens.
He was typing, but I quickly fired off another text before I could lose my nerve.
PennyAllen: Are you busy?
Highlandspilot: I have nothing else to do in London except take care of you.
Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and I took a deep breath, momentarily lost in his interesting choice of words. Then an idea came to mind. A glance out of the window showed me dusk neared on the warm summer evening.
PennyAllen: Can we meet up to talk?
Highlandspilot: Tell me where to come in the palace.
PennyAllen: It would be boring if it were that easy. See the location setting on my profile? In twenty minutes, it’ll turn on just for you. Find me.
Then I switched the phone off, bit down on a huge grin, and skipped to the wardrobe to find a wig.