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6: The Questions
"Do I need to drug you?"
"W-what?" I flung upright from my seat, my eyes locking on his. I could have sworn there was a glint of amusement in them but it could have been insanity.
"Do I need to drug you?" he repeated in the same serious tone. "I can't stand how tense you are. It's making me uncomfortable."
My posture collapsed. "I-I'm sorry, I've just... never really been on a private jet before. Hardly even a normal plane."
"Does your father not own a private jet?"
I shook my head.
"I thought a man such as himself would jump at the opportunity to own one, but I could be wrong."
"Could be?"
Armani brought his drink to his lips. "Even the people closest to you could be hiding something, Rose." When he put down his glass, a thought flickered across his eyes. "What will ease your nerves, then? A drink?"
He pushed the glass toward me, but I quickly pushed it back. "No, thank you... I don't..." 'I don't want
Gracie MackintoshFor news and updates, visit my page 'Mackintosh Books' on F-B Thanks, Gracie.
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