Freya didn't argue when I told her to rest. She studied my face for a second reading between lines I’m not voicing then nods. I didn't have any alternative reason behind this. We had a rough night and she deserved a good nap. While on the other hand I am used to working on three hours sleep.
“I’ll be in the back,” she said quietly.
I brushed my thumb across her knuckles before letting go. “Lock the door.” I didn't trust anyone. A small, knowing look passed between us. She disappeared down the narrow corridor toward the private suite.
Only when the door shut did I turned back toward the main cabin. Logan hadn't moved. He was still seated with his champagne, legs crossed like he owned the aircraft. He didn’t. It was my plane. I didn't even want to know about how many glasses he had.
