The Libra Affair (7 page)

And while Ben didn't understand a word of the exchange, he recognized by her tone of voice that the pilots were ready to depart.

“Mr. Johnson, I'm afraid — ”

“Here.” Ben held out his credit card. “It'll only take a second. Please, just process the ticket.”

“That won't be necessary,” the attendant said to him.

“Please.” He was about to beg. “You don't understand; I've got to get on that flight.”

And before he lost it altogether, the woman shoved a slip of paper into his hand. “You'll have to hurry.”

“What?” he said. “What do you mean — ?” It was a ticket for first class.

“Consider this your lucky day, Mr. Johnson.”

Not waiting, he started toward the ramp. He ran backwards, shouting ecstatically to the woman. “Thank you, thank you. I'm going to write a letter to the company to say how kind — ”

“Go. Just go, please,” she interrupted him.

The flight attendant waiting at the door guided him away from running into the wall, saying, “This is the way, sir.”

“First class,
wow
,” he said as she showed him to his seat. After settling in, he glanced around the cabin. Jordan was nowhere in sight. He'd find her as soon as the captain turned off the Fasten Seatbelt sign.

Before taxing away from the gate, Ben's cell phone rang. It was Kate. When he answered, she spoke immediately without a “hello” or “how are you.”

“Where are you?” she asked.

“On the plane,” he said. “I'm on the way to Iran now.”

“Ben,” she was near breathless, “the moment you touch down, I need you to turn around and come home. I should not, I repeat, I should
not
have helped you get that visa. There's been a development; don't worry, it's nothing that concerns you, but I must insist that you not leave the airport or the terminal. I know you had good intentions, but you need to turn around and come back home no matter what your girl does. It's just not safe.”

“No, Kate. I can't do that,” he argued.

“Listen to me, Ben, you've got to stay in the international wing. Just don't — ”

The call suddenly disconnected.

“Hello?” He looked at his phone. The battery was dead.

• • •

Once the captain permitted free rein of the cabin, Jordan began profiling the passengers on board. And there in first class, she saw Ben.

Unbelievable!

Why wasn't her “no” good enough for him? It was only a two-letter word. Why didn't he get it?

Her options now were limited — very limited.

Jordan thought a moment. She knew without a doubt the Iranian authorities would detain
any
American entering their country for questioning, and
especially
one who just happened to be a NASA scientist. Ben would be lucky to see the light of day again.

But a physical injury caused by a convenient accident might do the trick to send him packing back home.

There wasn't a lot of time for her to make a move, especially if Ben was going to make it home in one piece.

Jordan waited for Ben to leave his seat and go looking for her. By the time he reached the back of the plane, she was in position and ready. She whipped open the bathroom door, yanked him by the collar, and dragged him inside the stall, where she forced him face-over the commode, locking him into place with a pinky fingerhold.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded to know.

“Jordan.” He gasped.

“Answer me!”

“What do you think?”

“I warned you not to get on this plane.”

“I saw through that.”

“Do you think you can actually step off this plane and live to see tomorrow?” she asked vehemently.

“Come on, Jordan. Will you let go of me?”

“The second we land you're going home. Do you hear me?”

“Not until you come clean with me.”

Jordan pulled on his finger.

Luckily, the sound of the engines muffled his squeal. “Okay, will you stop already?” His voice cracked.

“Do we have an understanding?”

Writhing under her spell of pain, all he could say was, “Will you let go of me?”

“Do we have an understanding?” she repeated.

“Yes.” He drew out the word.

She was prepared to break his arm, but it was too early in the flight. That would come later, unless he pushed her patience any further. “Turn around and sit down. Nice and slow. Don't try anything.”

“If you haven't noticed, we're kind of in a tight spot.”

“Slow, Ben. I mean it.” Maintaining her hold, she directed him around to face her.

“Will you let go now?”

“Sit down.” When he did, she slowly released his hand.

“What was that all about?”

“You're in a dangerous situation, Ben.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“I'm serious.”

“I've got a visa to get in the country,” he said. “We're going to have a little vacation. You and I.”

“
We
are going to do nothing.
You
are going home where
you'll
be safe.”

“I thought it'd be fun to meet your husband,” he teased, smiling up at her.

“Stop it.” Stop smiling, stop teasing, stop looking at her like that. But she foolishly found herself distracted by his sloppy dark curls, sliding across his brow.

“Stop what?”

She felt herself succumbing to his desires. How many times had she been tempted to snip off one of those ringlets while he slumbered — too many times to remember was how many. And looking at him now, she wished she had clipped just one and stored it away in her secret box.

“I didn't think you were married,” he said.

“It doesn't matter what you think,” she replied, irritated with herself that Ben was able to lure her to him.

“I figured out you're going to see your grandmother. You never told me you were part Persian, but I can see that now.”

She'd let him think that. Fine. He placed his hands around her hips and pulled her close. She didn't fight it. She knew she should have, but didn't. And the closer he pulled, the easier it was to simply unfold and fall into his lap.

“Now, isn't that better,” he said as he slowly planted a kiss on her lips.

She let him kiss her because the space was tight, he was stronger, and it'd give her a moment to think. On the other hand, she could have resisted; she could have taken him out with a few simple moves.

“I missed you,” he whispered.

Nothing inside of her could harm a hair on his head. Not when his hot, nervous breath tumbled from her face and down her neck, followed by a pair of consuming lips. She couldn't fight it, she didn't want to, so she gave herself leave and fell into his groove.

“Jordan,” he repeated her name as he always did.

His lips were sensuous, lusty, and all-devouring. She needed him, all of him. She wanted him now. Letting him kiss her like this was probably wrong — of course, it was — but it was impossible for her to stop. She found herself sailing deep into the dream she had lived over the past year. It felt as though she had never left his side, that life was supposed to be like this, that she belonged with him. She would never be able to forget the fold of his body next to hers. She was lost, completely lost … until he started to lift her dress and the reality of the situation sparked.

Waking abruptly, she bounced up and spoke. “We can't do this.”

Still in the throes of the moment, he tried pulling her near. “Yes,” he whispered in a rough voice, “we can.”

“Stop, Ben.”

“I've always wanted to be a part of the Mile High Club.”

Their altitude suddenly changed. The plane dropped a couple hundred feet in elevation and Jordan fell into his arms.

“Stop,” she said as his hands began to wander.

“It's just a little turbulence,” he said.

Then someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Please return to your seat,” the flight attendant said.

“Bad weather?” Ben whispered to Jordan.

“Yes. We can't be seen like this; it'll cause a stir.”

“We'll be okay,” he said.

Jordan loved the man's confidence, but if he hadn't figured out yet that she was an undercover agent, he was nothing but thick. A part of her wanted to smack him silly and tell him to wake up; they were in a serious situation, although there was something about his childlike innocence that made her weak at the knees.

“Look,” she said, pulling herself together, “we can't stay in here. The attendant knows I'm in here, she's waiting for me to take my seat. And I'm sure they're looking for you, too.”

“They know I'm here somewhere.” He raised his brows. “Like visiting someone back in coach.”

“And if that's the case, they're bound to get upset when they don't find you, which means the bathrooms are the next obvious place they'll look. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you that a conservative Muslim woman wouldn't be found dead in a place like this with a man. Under any circumstance. Do you read?”

The plane dropped in altitude again.

“Okay,” he agreed. “I guess you have a point.”

She wanted to say “you think?” but instead said, “Let me go first. Wait a few minutes before you leave.”

The attendant tapped on the door again and asked if Jordan needed any help.

“I'll only be a moment,” Jordan answered her. They listened as the woman walked toward the front of the plane. “Okay, I think she's gone. Wait two minutes.”

Ben pulled her close and ran his hands along her waist.

“Not those kind of minutes,” she said.

Ben took her face in his hands. “Okay. Then later.” He went in for the kiss.

She whispered into his face, “You're killing me, Ben Johnson. You know that?” and she returned the kiss.

The storm had intensified. They both heard the unmistakable crack of lightning and thunder rumbling.

Not waiting any longer, Jordan opened the bathroom door and peered into the aisle. It was clear. She slipped outside but instead of returning to her seat, she made her way toward the front of the plane.

The attendant was stopped next to Ben's seat and speaking with the elderly woman in the seat next to his. The woman shook her head, turned toward the window, and closed the shade. The attendant moved along, spoke to a few more passengers, and then headed toward the galley.

A man rose from his seat at the front of the business class section. He moved directly toward the first-class section and stopped at Ben's seat, where he, too, spoke to the elderly woman.

Gut instinct: trouble.

Jordan slid into an empty seat alongside three young children huddled together. Seeing a toy on the floor underneath the seat in front of them, Jordan bent down to pick it up, while also keeping an eye on the man. He slowly walked through the rest of the first-class section as if studying each of the passengers, but didn't speak to anyone else.

He was no ordinary man. He was packing; she saw the weapon in his jacket. The way he moved said he wasn't just an ordinary cop, he was undercover. And since he stopped only at Ben's seat, it meant just one thing: the Iranian authorities were onto Ben. He'd been red flagged. Making her move, Jordan zipped back into the aisle and returned to the bathroom. Just as Ben opened the door without a word, she pushed him back inside the small room and joined him.

“That was quick.” He smiled stupidly.

She shoved him down onto the seat and said, “Shut up and listen to me.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Do you have your passport on you?”

“No,” he answered. “It's in my bag.”

“Where's your bag?”

“In the overhead cabin.”

“Right above your seat?”

“Yeah.”

“I need you to trade seats with me.”

“You think?” he replied playfully.

“I'll make it worth your while.”

“Promise?”

She stared into his face. None of this was part of the plan: protecting Ben, saving his life, and making out with him a mile high. Nevertheless, she quickly agreed, saying, “Yes, I promise.”

“Say it,” he said.

“Say what?”

“Say, ‘I promise to make it worth your while.'”

“What? Are we in second grade again?”

Ben angled his head.

“Okay, yes, Ben. I promise I'll make it worth your while. Does saving your tail count, too?”

“Oh yeah.”

“And if I bend your arm and break it, you cool with that, dude?” Because that was exactly what she was going to do — to make it worthwhile — to save his life.

“Jordan, I never knew you had that kind of kink in you, you dirty girl.” He pulled her close.

“Ben, you … you … ” She forced herself to bite her tongue, all the while thinking
how dense could he be
?

Someone knocked on the door.

Speaking in Farsi, Jordan responded with indignation, saying she needed two minutes. A man returned his apologies, but he didn't go far because she heard the door to the bathroom directly across from them open and close. It had to be him. “Someone's looking for you,” she whispered in Ben's ear.

“Who?” he returned the whisper.

“Well, that's a good question. I didn't get his name, but I can assure you this: he doesn't work for the airline.”

“Don't be ridiculous. No one is looking for me.”

“I'm guessing somewhere along the way someone pinned you as a person of interest, maybe even a terrorist. I wouldn't be surprised if this man is on this flight to take you out, so I wouldn't say that's ridiculous. If you want the truth.”

He hugged her waist and kissed her belly. “Jordan, Jordan, you watch too much television, you know that, girlfriend?”