Page 24 of Mile High Ruin

He waits.

“Return to the cockpit.”

His mouth tightens. “We are at cruising altitude.”

“I’m aware of the aircraft’s position.”

“My copilot has control.”

“Then find another reason to be useful.”

For one second, resentment shows plainly on his face. Then he lowers his head. “Of course.” He retreats toward the cockpit.

I remain in the corridor until the door closes behind him.

When I return to my seat, the conversation at the table has stopped. Anton looks at the stain on my shirt. Iosef looks at my face. Marek looks entirely too pleased with himself.

Sloane is nowhere in sight. She has disappeared behind the galley curtain, and I’ve no intention of asking where she went again, particularly with these men watching me.

Marek’s gaze drops to my shirt. “Well,” he says, “she did a remarkable job.”

I look down.

The stain is, in fact, significantly lighter. Only a faint shadow remains across the front of the fabric, and the mark on my trousers has nearly vanished.

I don’t care.

“Open my suitcase,” I tell Anton. “Bring me another shirt and trousers.”

Anton stands.

Marek leans back in his chair. “You didn’t think of changing earlier?”

I look at him.

He makes no effort to hide his amusement. “The bedroom contains a wardrobe,” he continues. “Your luggage has been aboard since before we arrived. It would have saved considerable time.”

Iosef lowers his eyes to the contract, though I can see he’s listening.

“I wanted the stain removed.”

“Of course.”

“It was her responsibility,” I say.

“Naturally,” Iosef replies.

“She caused it,” I shoot back.

“Deliberately.” He’s having fun now.

I stare at him.

Marek lifts both hands. I glare at him. “I said nothing,” he says.

“You have said several things,” I say.

“And yet none of them explains why you spent twenty minutes in the restroom with a woman who could have handed you a cloth and allowed you to clean your own shirt.”