Page 46 of One Hot Chase

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Page 46 of One Hot Chase

As we approach the airport, I pull out my phone to alert the pilots that I'm on my way. Diana's connections have come through once again, and I'll be heading somewhere farther north once I reach the jet. The driver stops along the curb where passengers enter the terminal. As I hand him some euros, including a nice tip, he grins at me.

"I am Isaak, by the way. And if you wish to have more Greek experiences, I can drive you to all the best towns and villages that tourists love to visit---"

"Thanks a lot, Isaak. But I have an itinerary all set."

I smile and wave at him as I jog toward the terminal entrance. Traveling by private jet is fantastic. No need to wade through security, and one of Diana's pilots is waiting for me to guide me back outside to the plane. Soon, we're in the air, headed to my next destination.

As the jet climbs into the sky, I peer out the window, my mind conjuring images of Declan clinging to the wing. I just stifle a laugh at that thought. He may be wild, but even Sir Declan has his limits.

"Can I get you anything, Ms. Remington?" The onboard chef's voice pulls me from my reverie.

"Just some water, please," I reply, settling back into the plush leather seat. As he walks away, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Tabitha.

Hey sis, hope the wedding plans are going well. Don't worry, I'm still planning to make it back in time. Just having a bit of fun first.

I hesitate before hitting send, wondering if I should mention Declan. But no, that would lead to too many questions I'm not ready to answer. I press send and tuck my phone away, letting out a contented sigh as I gaze out the window at the clouds drifting by.

The chef returns with my water and a small plate of Greek pastries. He smiles and says, "Compliments of the chef."

I'm an American on a British jet with British pilots, yet I'm eating Greek food. How strange---and wonderful at the same time.

I thank the chef and nibble on a flaky baklava, savoring the sweetness of honey and nuts. While I eat, my mind wanders back to Declan. I wonder how long it took him to realize I was truly gone, and how he reacted when he found out I'd slipped away. Part of me feels a twinge of guilt for leaving him behind, but a larger part thrills at the chase.

I pull out my phone again and open my email, finding the itinerary I'd crafted during the drive to the Athens airport. My next stop is Budapest, another place I've always wanted to visit. I smile to myself, imagining Declan's face when he finds me in that ancient and mysterious locale. I suppose it's not mysterious to the residents. But for me, this is like stepping into another dimension.

While I nibble on the pastry some more, I can't help fantasizing about where and how Declan might track me down this time. He can't track me with his phone anymore. Two things I'm certain of are that he will catch me eventually, and we'll have scorching sex afterward.

I'm already getting turned on just thinking about that.

Chapter Sixteen

Declan

I would never have expected an insurance underwriter to be such a bloody genius at covering her tracks. Sabrina is the cleverest woman I've ever met. She has led me on a merry chase, and I can't wait for the next destination in our European journey.

But I can't track her mobile anymore. So...how in the world will I know where she's gone?

I spent the night at a hotel in Athens, half hoping Bree might skulk into my room in the dead of night and snuggle up to me, nude and aroused. No such luck. In the morning, I took a ride in every taxi I could find in the city, asking every driver if they'd seen a strawberry blonde beauty with emerald eyes and a sweetly artful smile.

Yes, I admit I'm ruddy awful at playing detective.

So, I return to Nikos' restaurant in the hopes he might have some insight. When I tell him that, he laughs heartily.

"Ah, Declan, you are a babe in the woods, aren't you?" He pats my arm and chuckles again. "You didn't need to waste thousands of euros on taxis. The fair Sabrina must have gone to the airport. You said the two of you are playing a game and you are chasing her across Europe."

Maybe I shouldn't have divulged that secret to Nikos. But I'm truly flummoxed. Besides, he won't tell anyone else. Nikos insists on giving me a free lunch, and I can't say no to the best food in Greece. Now that I've satisfied my stomach, I hail one last taxi to reach the airport. It bustles with activity as I scan the departure boards. My gaze flicks from one destination to another. Where would Bree go next? Paris? Rome? Barcelona? She could be anywhere by now.

I run a hand through my hair, my frustration mounting. This game of cat and mouse is exhilarating, but bloody exhausting. Just as I'm about to give up and book a random flight, hoping for a stroke of luck, I note a whiff of a familiar scent. Vanilla and jasmine. Bree's perfume.

My head snaps around, searching for a glimpse of strawberry blonde hair. Nothing. But then I spot it---a small, folded piece of paper tucked into the frame of a nearby departure screen. With my heart racing, I unfold the scrap of paper.

I'm impressed, Your Knightliness. You've made it this far. But can you keep up? I hope you packed a warm jacket. Meet me where the lángos and gulyás are always hot, and if you're lucky, there will be some somlói galuska too. Don't be late, or I might just have to find a strapping young férfi to keep me company. Catch me if you can.

Yes, I will catch her. And once I'm with her again, I'll be so fucking randy that I might just shag her in the middle of the street. Sabrina is the only woman who could ever convince me to do something so reckless. But since the moment I met her, I've wanted nothing else, only her.

I head out to the tarmac and trot up the stairs to my jet. No one else is here. I prefer to fly myself wherever I might want to go. Sabrina probably has palatial accommodations on a billionaire's jet. My jet isn't anywhere near as large as I imagine Diana Hahn's plane must be. But it does well enough for me.

Once I'm in the air, I turn on the autopilot so I can try to decipher Sabrina's cryptic message. The fact that no one in the airport noticed her note seems odd, to say the least. But then, most people aren't particularly aware of their surroundings. All I need do is search for the non-English words she mentioned---lángos, gulyás, somlói galuska, férfi. A quick online translation proves I need to fly deeper into Europe.




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