Page 49 of The Best Thing He Never Wanted

“Farnborough. Ready to go.”

“You cannot just turn up at Heathrow and announce that you have a plane waiting somewhere else.”

“Just did.”

“Blane.”

“Bea.”

There it was. One word, somehow managing to carry an entire argument. She refused to be derailed by it.

“I’m expected in Crete this afternoon. There’s a woman meeting me with the keys to the house. I have a transfer booked from the airport. It’s all arranged.”

“So we keep it arranged.”

“How?”

“Cancel your flight. Cancel the transfer.”

“But that would … unarrange it all. And I can’t just cancel the transfer. The man’s expecting me.”

“You can cancel a taxi.”

“I know I can cancel a taxi.”

His eyebrows went up.

She chose not to acknowledge the point. “And then what? We arrive at the airport with no car, in a country where I don’t drive yet. The whole point of the transfer was to get me to the house, then I was going to sort out a car later once I’d settled in—once I’m confident enough to drive on the wrong side of the road.”

“Right side.”

She stopped. “I beg your pardon?”

“Right side of the road. Not the left.”

“It is quite literally the wrong side from where I come from.”

“Still the right side.”

“Blane.”

His mouth twitched. “Anyway, I have a car.”

She stared at him. “You do not have a car in Crete. You’ve been in London.”

“Called ahead.”

“You called ahead?”

“Cash sorted it.”

That should have reassured her. For some reason, it didn’t. “What kind of car?”

“Asked for something small. Nothing flashy.” He paused, and something almost like grievance crossed his face. “Told him the opposite of whatever he’d choose for himself. God knows what’ll be waiting.”

Despite herself, she almost laughed. “You have a plane and a car?”

“Yeah.”