Airborne Emergency. Оливия Гейтс

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СКАЧАТЬ with the boarding gates.

      “You’ve taken this far enough, Vidal!” she spluttered, yet stopped resisting him when she found gate 19 at the end of the corridor. Her steps picked up speed, thinking she’d escape him there, leave him behind and forget about him and the whole nasty episode. If only. No such luck.

      “As far as you took your...prank?” They’d reached the boarding checkpoint. She flashed her special pass at the woman, the pass GAO issued its volunteers which would get them on and off the Jet in all their stops around the world. The moment she was ushered in she shook off his hand and strode ahead. He let her go. He’d join her soon enough.

      He nodded at the woman who insisted he shouldn’t even produce his pass. “You go right in, Dr Santiago. It’s lovely to see you again. We’ve been hearing all about your Jet Hospital project. May I tell you how great it all sounds? Have a safe and productive journey.”

      He passed into the tube connecting the airport to the Jet. Cassandra was rooted there, a look of absolute horror on her expressive face.

      She’d heard. Now she knew. It should taste good, getting back at her.

      It didn’t.

      He’d been bracing himself for three months in purgatory being in constant contact with her. But suddenly purgatory sounded good. He’d take purgatory.

      For now it seemed he was getting hell.

      “You’re not Vidal Santiago!”

      Cassandra heard the choking words, realized she’d said them. It was a miracle she could speak at all. This had to be a nightmare. He had to be lying. This woman back there had to have made a mistake. Another victim of Vidal’s hypnotic powers.

      “We can stand in this tube all morning or we can board and talk about this later.” He took her arm and she shook him off again. He sighed. “All right. Here...” He reached into his jacket’s inner pocket, produced his pass and held it up inches from her eyes. His photograph, even grimmer than reality, but him. And the name beneath it. Vidal A. Santiago.

      “You can’t be Vidal Santiago. Your name is—”

      “Was Arroyo Martinez—both my father’s and mother’s family names, in the Spanish tradition. I changed it.”

      “How? When? Why?”

      “Through legal paperwork, a few years ago. That’s how and when. As for why, I didn’t think I owed it to either my father or mother to carry their family names. Satisfied?”

      He’d asked that question before, in utmost incredulity. It was her turn to be incredulous. He’d changed his name? How come her father hadn’t mentioned that? Did he even know? No, he probably didn’t. Oh, he always said Vidal kept in touch with him, always tried to make excuses for him. But here was proof that he didn’t. Her father would have known of his name change if he had. And because he didn’t, there she was, with Vidal as her boss. She was going to see him every minute of every day for the next three months!

      “Oh, no, you can’t be my boss.”

      “Well, I am. And, believe me, I share your horror. But the solution to this mess is all in your hands.”

      “My hands? What are you talking about?”

      “If you take the first flight back to Los Angeles, all this will be over.”

      “Why don’t you take the first flight to—to Geneva or Dubai or any other scenic location where you usually stay?”

      “Because I’m the mission leader. Without me there’d be no Jet Hospital maiden voyage.”

      “And without me you’d be minus your chief surgeon and second in command.”

      “I’m willing to give up the luxury of both.”

      “You know you can’t. And I’m not willing to give up this mission just to make you more comfortable.”

      “You’d be more comfortable, too. And you don’t have to worry about the mission. I’ll find a replacement.”

      “You mean you have surgeons of my qualifications falling over themselves to volunteer for this mission?”

      “Not really, but—”

      “So when do you expect to get someone else? A week before the mission’s over? Or do you intend to postpone it until you do?”

      “A day’s delay costs tens of thousands of dollars...”

      “So there will be no postponement, will there? If I leave, you go out there short-staffed, boss.”

      His neutral glance turned dark. Forbidding. She shivered and looked away, refusing to let him see how he rattled her. “So we’re trapped, aren’t we?”

      A moment’s silence, then he exhaled. Without volition, her eyes went to his. They’d emptied again. When he spoke again his voice was as vacant. “Seems so. And since we are, let’s not make much out of this. It was really too silly. So, whatever you were putting me in my place for, I hope it’s out of your system now.”

      He didn’t know what for? He didn’t remember? Probably. He must have had a thousand similar incidents in his life. Not that that incident had been what had driven her to lead him on. Her loathing had ceased to be personal long ago. She had endless reasons, family-related as well as professional, to despise Dr Vidal Arroyo Martinez, a.k.a. Vidal Santiago.

      He didn’t wait for an answer. He just turned and walked away. In a minute, he disappeared through the door of the aircraft. Feeling stupid and very, very small all of a sudden, Cassandra followed, reality sinking in with each step.

      Please. Let me wake up screaming, in a cold sweat and in my seat.

      She didn’t. And wouldn’t. This was one nightmare she’d have to live through.

      * * *

      “Come in Dr St James,” Vidal said when she stood hovering at the door of the cockpit, his voice and his face expressionless. So, that was how it was going to be from now on, huh? She should have felt relieved, but she only ached with disappointment. Losing that fierce hunger that ate her up, made her soar with giddy gratification... “Meet Captain Harry Styles.”

      Giving herself a mental shake, she shook the captain’s hand. Vidal went on. “Harry is our operations manager and the best pilot on planet earth.”

      The tall blond man guffawed. “That’s right, Dr St James. And Vidal can tell no lies.”

      Nice man. A few years older than Vidal, open, with loads of positive energy. Not like the debilitating electricity Vidal generated. She liked him at once. Her smile warmed, tension seeping out of her. “Cassandra, please. Dr St James is a mouthful.”

      “With pleasure, Cassandra. Lovely name for a lovelier lady. My opinion of surgeons is fast changing.” Harry winked at Vidal.

      Some intensity entered Vidal’s blank expression as he looked at his friend, yet there wasn’t even the shadow of a smile to answer the man’s wide grin. The Vidal СКАЧАТЬ