Page 45 of Villainous Mind
Rhys led me to one of the cream leather seats and sat beside me. “It’s a thirty-minute flight,” he said. “We’ll be there before you know it.
Dafydd entered the plane and sat in a seat across from us. Lily locked the door and headed to the galley in the back.
It was easy to forget how rich he was when we were at the caravan. But in this environment, it was abundantly clear. He was a different man. A man I knew nothing about.
“I booked you a reservation at Alain Ducasse for dinner as requested.”
“Thank you.”
“Any news on my other request?” Rhys asked.
“You have an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”
He nodded. “Very well.”
The plane began taxiing down the runway, and he reached out and took my hand, interlocking our fingers. Within seconds, we were airborne, and my stomach tightened. Lily came by with a silver tray and lowered the retractable wooden table between Rhys and Dafydd, setting it down. “Can I get you some more champagne, Ms. Bardot?”
My glass was still full. “No, thank you.”
“Mr. Hughes?”
“I’ll take a whiskey.”
“Mr. Wogan?” she asked.
“Whiskey is fine,” Dafydd said.
The tray contained a variety of tea sandwiches along with a small jar of caviar, crème fraiche, and crisps. “Eat something while you can. It will be a while before dinner,” Rhys whispered, handing me an egg sandwich.
I gave him a tight smile. If we weren’t in a plane, this would be the moment I would run. I had an innate skill of avoiding uncomfortable situations and began to feel myself spiral. I took a bite of the sandwich, and it stuck in the back of my throat. I grabbed my champagne and took several large gulps, feeling it go down. The bubbles tickled the back of my throat, making me cough. “Everything all right?” Rhys gave my thigh a squeeze.
I nodded, not wanting to speak in case I started to choke again, and set the sandwich down, beginning to come up with a plan. Just because I came to London with Rhys didn’t mean I had to stay with him. I had my own flat.
The plane began to descend as quickly as it ascended, and we soon landed. There was a private car waiting for us as we disembarked. Dafydd opened the backseat door, and Rhys helped me in before getting in beside me. Dafydd got in the driver’s seat.
I took a deep breath.
I was back on my home turf.
London was big, noisy, busy, and grimy as a city, yet turn the corner and it became a bustling, vibrant, cosmopolitan world capital. It’s the perfect place to get lost in. The perfect place to hide.
We left the airport and traveled south through the city and over Waterloo Bridge, crossing the Thames until we came to a large tower. Dafydd pulled into a private garage, got out, and opened our doors.
“Um, I should head back to my flat,” I told Rhys.
“Your flat?” he questioned. “Where do you live?”
“Croydon. I’ll take the tube. We can meet back up after your meeting tomorrow. I have things I need to take care of also.”
His face paled. “I didn’t bring you to London so you could stay in your flat.”
“You can’t expect me to stay here with you.” I looked down at my clothes. “I’m hardly dressed for a place this fancy.”
“This has nothing to do with how your dressed, and I told you I loved your style. It’s you,” he said. “Look, we need to talk. Let’s go upstairs.”
The bubble of panic grew bigger. “Fine, I’ll go and listen, but then I’ll go to my flat,” I reiterated.
He didn’t answer but grabbed my hand and led me to an elevator, swiping a card over a sensor and pressing the button for the top floor. Once we reached the upper level, the doors opened to his penthouse flat. Double-height windows offered spectacular views of the city and the London Eye. It was clean and modern and decorated to perfection. I couldn’t imagine what it cost. Dafydd carried our bags up a metal spiral staircase to the second level.