He patted the arm of the chair beside him instead. The flash of disappointment in her eyes was more likely irritation. She glanced at the seat, saw the way it would trap her between him and the window, and hesitated.
“Sit,” he said. “We have a lot to talk about.”
But he’d wait to start that until they were settled in.
She stepped past his chair and lowered herself into the seat. Looking out the window, she asked, “How did you pay for this? How did you pay for the hotels?” She turned those light eyes back on him. “They’ll know where we are. They’ll follow your financial—”
“I know, Hali. I used cash and an alternate alias credit card for the hotels and I put the charter on my account, which won’t be billed for a month. This flight won’t show up anywhere. The records are confidential. I’ve used this company for years and they know how important that is to me.”
“I’ve been so . . . freaked, I didn’t think . . .” She glanced around the plane. “How much does it cost to charter a jet like this?”
Mitch kept his eyes on his phone and whisked through his other messages. “The price is worth the convenience and security when it’s necessary, which has definitely taken a hike in the last year.”
“I developed and sold an invention to a large pharmaceutical company.” Her sudden change of subject drew Mitch’s gaze. She met his eyes, matter-of-fact, nonconfrontational. “That’s how I made the money I used to buy the house and the car. The money I use for any large purchases. I live off my salary.”
Mitch stared a moment. Not sure how to take this voluntary share of information.
Halina licked her lips. Took a small breath. “I invested the rest under an individual corporation so my taxes are lower. And I actually chose to take a lot of the payment in company stock, which was, evidently, a good gamble. The pharmaceutical company is bursting at the seams, and in the last five years since I’ve owned the stock, it has split seven times.
“That’s why you couldn’t find it when you looked at my finances.”
“I . . . see.” When she didn’t go on, but didn’t avert her gaze either, he asked, “What did you invent?”
She glanced out the window. “A micro-sheath for needles that target hard-stick patients—the chronically ill, the elderly, children, those with various medical conditions that make drawing blood difficult. The sheath allows smooth insertion. There’s less roll-away, fewer misses and resticks. The tip of the sheath also has both gripping and cutting properties. It adheres to the skin and punctures both the skin and the wall of the vessel like a hot knife through butter. The result is efficiency and accuracy for labs, comfort for patients.”
She rested her head against the seat. “Not near as sexy as a secret payoff by a shadow government agent,” she said with sarcasm and a shrug of her shoulders, “but there you have it.”
He may have told Kai he didn’t find her work interesting, but they used to talk for hours on end about scientific advances, their applications in medicine, the ethical and financial implications. She’d fascinated him. Everything about her had captivated him, challenged him. Even now, he could think of a hundred questions to ask her about her invention.
Instead, he said, “Thanks for telling me.”
“Hey, Mitch.” The friendly female voice sounded down the aisle and Mitch looked up.
Christy, their flight attendant, walked toward them.
Mitch smiled. “Hey, beau—” The word “beautiful,” an endearment he used with most women because it was easy, natural, rarely caused anyone to bristle, and because it never failed to make them melt, caught on his tongue.
Though Halina had been completely still and quiet and Mitch had forgotten she was there for a moment, she instantly filled his mind.
“Christy,” he said, blundering the change.
At least she pretended not to notice. Mitch didn’t look at Halina to see her reaction, reminding himself it didn’t matter. She’d made her desires crystal clear.
Christy put a hand on the back of the seat opposite Mitch and turned her beaming smile on Dex. “Who is this handsome devil?”
Mitch grinned down at Dex, sliding a hand over his silky head. “This is Dex.” He gestured toward Halina. “And this is Dex’s . . . um,” he frowned, strangely unsure how to phrase that relationship. “Owner?”
“Noooo,” Christy said, leaning toward Dex with a big grin. “She’s his mama.” She said it with a southern twang that made Mitch laugh, then glanced at Halina. “He’s gorgeous. Can I pet him?”
Halina nodded, smiled. “Sure.”
Mitch glanced toward Halina. Her eyes were already on him, assessing. He turned away, seeing Christy from a whole different perspective this morning. She was a stunning, funny, intelligent woman. The very kind Halina had obviously noticed he chose to date—her knowledge of which was something he needed to get around to asking her about.
Christy crouched in front of Dex. Her straight, deep purple skirt stretching tight over smooth thighs and tight butt. And when she leaned over to take Dex’s face in both hands, her cream silk blouse draped at the neckline, giving a soft-porn-worthy view of perfect breasts.
If Mitch had to guess, he’d bet Halina’s mood would be sour when Christy left their seats.
“Oh, what a sweetheart,” Christy purred.
“Yeah, he’s great, isn’t he?” Mitch agreed, then asked, “How’s Tyler?”
Christy grinned up at him. He didn’t have nearly as difficult a time keeping his eyes off her breasts as he did keeping them off Halina’s.
“Good,” she chirped. “Just started with a private security firm as an explosives expert. Your recommendation went a long way. And, God help us all, he’s started taking law classes.”
Mitch chuckled, a sense of purpose smoothing his rough edges. At least his clients needed him. “Fantastic. Tell him to come see me when he’s ready for an internship.”
“Are you kidding? Just try to keep him away. You’re his hero.”
Mitch snorted a laugh. “He’s the hero.”
Christy straightened. “What can I get you two before we take off?”
Mitch glanced at Halina. “You still like grapefruit juice?”
Surprise flashed in her eyes. “Yes.”
Mitch placed an order with Christy, waited a moment, took a deep breath, and faced Halina again. Her gaze had turned cool.
“Who’s Tyler?” she asked. “Her husband?”
“Brother.”
Halina glanced toward the front of the plane again, her gaze drifting down Christy’s long legs. He knew damn well what she was visualizing, but he wasn’t going to volunteer any information. If she wanted to know, she could ask directly.
“Is she married?”
“No, why?”
“How do you know her brother?”
“He’s a previous client. Explosives expert, former military.”
Halina’s gaze returned to Mitch’s face, one brow lifted, but he couldn’t read her expression. “You have a lot of military clients.”
“I’ve found the government likes to screw everyone, even their own. Which is a great segue to what we need to discuss, don’t you think?” He pulled a pad of paper and pen from a slot in the side of his chair. He hadn’t exactly planned on putting off this talk, at least not consciously. But he had to admit, the thought of it now had his stomach wound tighter than his first freaking day in court as a damn kid.
He slid into the same persona he used with clients—detached, competent, straightforward—and angled his chair toward Halina. “Let’s just start with why you passed Saveli off as your husband and get it out of the way.”