Laura Martin - Secret Surrender

‘Wait and see.’ He reached forward and pressed the car’s CD player into action.

‘And if I don’t wish to?’ Christy replied stiffly, trying her best to be heard above the thumping, incessant beat of heavy rock, which was reverberating throughout the car’s suddenly claustrophobic interior. ‘I would like to know where we’re going now.’

‘Well, you’ll just have to wait to find out, because right at this moment I don’t care to enlighten you.’ He glanced carelessly across and threw her a glittering look. ‘Let’s just keep it as a surprise, shall we?’

As the miles passed, Christy became more and more intrigued as to where Drew Michaels was driving them both. All the reasonable, most likely possibilities were knocked off her mental list one by one, and as the Ferrari began to make its way along a dusty track she had to fight against her natural curiosity and feign complete and utter uninterest. After Drew’s last remark, she had decided that unless speech was absolutely necessary she would play dumb all the way. Besides, battling against the music would have been almost impossible anyway. And after all, what did it matter where they were going? she thought irritably. If he wanted to play silly little games then that was up to him…

The light aircraft looked too small and too fragile. Christy sat staring at it through the windscreen of the parked Ferrari and wondered if Drew Michaels was enjoying the effects of producing this, his trump card.

‘Come along, Miss King, time to get out. I have your bag and your equipment.’

She swallowed with difficulty, aware that her throat had suddenly turned as dry as a desert, and immediately began to rummage in her handbag. ‘I…I just need to fix my face.’ With shaking hands she fumbled for the soft coral lipstick she had chosen to wear with her outfit and attempted to look as if she meant what she said.

Drew heaved an exasperated sigh. ‘Your lips look perfect, your face looks perfect, in fact your whole body looks absolutely gorgeous, as you very well know. Now forget your face and hurry up! I want to get going before the weather changes. The forecast isn’t too good for later on today…’

Christy listened to the last sentence with a sinking heart, immediately visualising the prospect of flying goodness knew where in a flimsy light aircraft with thunder and lightning and wind and turbulence and all the other awful possibilities that always sprang to mind whenever the prospect of flying loomed into view.

Did he know how much she detested it? she wondered, as she doggedly began powdering her nose. Was he really planning to take her up in the sky in that thing, simply to get his own back, to make her suffer?

The small round compact mirror reflected her sudden pale complexion. Christy snapped it shut and glanced up into his face, her large violet eyes wide with sudden anxiety. What to do? Refuse point-blank without an explanation? Tell him? She shook her head involuntarily. And give him the ammunition to parade that weakness in front of her? She glanced over to the stationary aircraft. If only it hadn’t been so small. Getting into jumbo jets had taken her two years of determined self-will and discipline; only recently had she started to feel any amount of confidence about trusting herself to the skies. But in this thing?

‘Am I allowed to know where you plan to take me now?’ she asked in a voice that was surprisingly firm, surprisingly cool and controlled, despite everything.

‘Don’t look so worried, Miss King; you make it sound as if I’m kidnapping you at the very least!’ Drew slanted her a slightly puzzled look. ‘We’re just going up to Scotland. I have a particularly beautiful old farmhouse there, right on the edges of a loch.’

Scotland. Was that good? Christy wondered, desperately trying to find some crumb of comfort on which to hold. Well, at least they weren’t going to cross the Channel; there would be firm ground below them for all of the way.

She found herself gazing into his face, surveying the stunning, dark features, picturing the contemptuous curve of the lips that would surely appear if she told him how frightened she was at the prospect of flying.

You’re going to do it. The voice was small and unsure, but it was there deep inside forcing her on. You must. There is no way you are going to allow this ridiculous phobia to get the better of you. You are going to be strong and composed and you are not going to allow Drew Michaels to have any suspicions at all.

Her legs felt like jelly as she got out of the car and waited while he locked it up. Crossing the tarmac was like living a nightmare, watching as the plane became larger and larger, but still, as far as Christy was concerned, not large enough.

She was so preoccupied with keeping her fear at a controllable level and her composure intact that it wasn’t until Drew was actually strapping himself in beside her that she realised that it was he that was going to pilot the plane.

‘You fly?’ Her voice didn’t sound quite normal, but he seemed not to notice.

‘Yes, that’s right.’

Christy watched nervously as he placed dark glasses on his nose, a pair of headphones over his thick dark hair, and began to check the dials in front of him.

‘How long?’

‘Oh, I got my licence just last week; I’m looking forward to having a practice.’

Christy felt the colour drain from her face. This couldn’t really be happening, could it? Practice? She stared ahead out of the window and thought about backing out, telling him she just couldn’t go through with the flight. So what if she looked a complete fool? It had happened before, hadn’t it? She had survived.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Drew glance across. ‘Are you feeling OK?’ His dark brows were drawn together slightly and Christy saw a vague expression of concern shadowing his face. ‘Look, I was only kidding before,’ he added carelessly, handing her some headphones. ‘I’ve actually been flying for ten years now. I have more flying hours under my belt than I care to remember so you’ve no need to worry.’

‘Who said I was worried?’ Christy arched surprised eyebrows and tried to play the part of someone totally in control. ‘I’m just not particularly enamored about flying all the way to Scotland, that’s all!’

‘Why not? It’s a very beautiful country.’

He flicked numerous switches, checked dials and then before she knew what was happening the engine roared into life. Christy swallowed back the lump in her throat and hastily fastened her seatbelt.

Too late, she thought, surreptitiously gripping the seat as the aircraft taxied along the runway. You can’t tell him now, you stupid girl!

She felt the prickle of fear, the sudden sickness in the pit of her stomach as the plane got up speed and closed her eyes tightly as the aircraft lurched into the cloudless blue sky. When she finally found the courage to open them again, she realised he was watching her.

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