Chapter 4: His Woman?
1467 Words
At first, Dasha was confused where they were going. They were led to a separate hangar of the international airport. When she saw a white medium-sized private jet, she turned to look at Desmond.
“You own this?” she inquired in disbelief.
“Is it hard to believe?” He drawled his retort, giving her a measuring look.
She could only gape at him speechlessly. Her eyes went back to the letters on the side of the jet plane’s body: DDS. It was written stylishly in blue, and she wondered what it stood for. She was reluctant to ask him though.
Her eyes then darted to her husband’s bodyguards behind them. She was astounded when she learned the previous day that he had some. He informed her that they were with him when he first approached her at the antique shop, but she or the police did not notice them.
“Get used to them from now on. They won’t take their eyes off you and let you escape from me again,” he added through gritted teeth, holding her by the elbow.
She gave him an innocent look. “Why did you think I left you? What was the reason?”
He just looked at her with contempt, choosing not to answer her. That much was obvious.
The men followed them quietly as they went aboard the private plane. Their luggage was already transported into the aircraft’s cargo earlier.
They both stopped a few steps away from the doorway, staring at each other for some moments.
“I want to remember, that’s why I’m here with you,” she further said to him sincerely.
Desmond merely swept his blue-green orbs on her face. He then signaled his bodyguards aside to speak to them and proceeded to the cockpit as the door latch was secured.
“Please follow me, Mrs. Crellin.” A woman’s lively, sweet voice cut through her musing and blocked her sight on her husband. She realized it was the woman who just locked the door.
She nodded at the tall and slim lady as she was ushered to her seat, following the wide aisle. She wore a tight red mini-skirt paired with a white blazer. Underneath the latter was a white blouse. Her stockings were nude that made her look sexy. Her pumps were white, and she bounded the aisle while gesturing to her when they reached her seat.
Dasha just took a glimpse of her own outfit—a pair of navy blue square slacks that went well with a white see-through blouse with low neckline and sleeves up to her elbows. Underneath the thin blouse, she wore a white spaghetti tank top. Her own low high heels were softly making a sound on the carpeted aisle as she walked.
The private jet was more spacious than a commercial one. She admired the neatness of it all. The cream-colored seats were wide and huge, with wool blend upholstery fabric. The seats could turn into comfortable beds.
“Please tell me what you need, Mrs. Crellin.” The flight attendant asked her with a professional expression on her oval face.
“Uh… Maybe just a glass of juice. Anything you have, thank you,” she answered and settled in her seat, placing her silver-colored shoulder bag next to her.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” the brunette stewardess added and pivoted gracefully. She obviously headed to the plane’s galley.
Dasha stared at the woman’s sexy back before she transferred her gaze outside the squircle window on her right. She could see other private planes that sat on the airport. There was one that had just lifted up to the sky. Somehow, her heart was unsettled. She had no idea what awaited her in the Isle of Man. She had no memory of the place itself, and she certainly had no memories of Desmond. Her husband.
Am I really doing the right thing? Is coming with him, not knowing him, a right decision?
Her attention was pulled by Desmond’s light footsteps approaching her. She turned her head to look at him, and he sat next to her—something she did not expect at all.
She did not know what to say though, so she just stared at his handsome face for some moments. There was something in him that seemed to magnetize her toward him that she wanted to ignore. It was a bit overwhelming, as she imagined herself in his arms and was kissing him. It never happened to her before. She never daydreamed about kissing or embracing a man in her life before. At least, as far as her two-year limited memory could fathom.
“We’ll arrive home late in the afternoon, local time. You may do whatever you want in the next twelve hours or so. We’ll have a few stops to have refills,” he informed her coldly.
“Where exactly is your home?”
He gauged her with a serious look on his face before answering, “It’s situated between Douglas and Derbyhaven.” He then pulled out his cell phone, dismissing her, apparently.
Dasha could not help but see the number under Éléonore’s name he dialed. She asked herself who could be that woman and if she already met her before she had amnesia. Something pinched her heart when she saw him smile as he talked to the lady on the other end. It was a different kind of smile, which he did not bother to give her since they met.
He hates me, but why is he bringing me to his home? What kind of debt must I pay to him? Did I owe him my life or what?
“I’ll see you when I get back on the island. Okay, Éléonore,” he said jovially.
She kept wondering what she could have done to him to have left him, as he claimed. She also pondered on what could be the reason that she had to come back to the Philippines without telling her parents.
Why did he accuse me of being a scammer and not tell me what I took from him exactly?
She sighed inwardly and averted her face to the stewardess instead, as the latter gave her the drink she requested. She thanked the woman and let her gaze lay outside instead until the jet took off.
She decided to watch a Korean drama series as she killed time, while her husband was busy with his laptop. She stole a glimpse of it, and all she could see was if not numbers, they were emails. Sometimes, he would get off his seat to go to the restroom. He left his laptop beside her for her to see that there was a picture of him and a beautiful young blonde woman on some entertainment site or online news site. She was not able to read the caption, however, since it was far down below the big picture on the screen. She thought he must have zoomed it in. His hand was on the small of her back, which was bare. The young woman in her early twenties wore a backless royal blue dress. It seemed that they were intimate, as far as Dasha could see.
Did he deliberately leave it for me to see? But why? she asked herself mutely, feeling that familiar painful pinch in her heart. She gulped to wet her dry throat.
When she noticed he was coming, she quickly averted her eyes and focused them on the drama scene in front of her. She fussed unnecessarily about her earphones and ignored him, too, appearing nonchalant about where he went to or if he came back after leaving that laptop of his.
When the stewardess gave them their meal, she thanked her politely and ate in silence.
“Are you really going to ignore me the entire flight?” he questioned, after he was done eating and drinking red wine.
She, on the other hand, was just finishing her meal when she heard him talk to her. She turned her head to him slowly, staring at his face.
“You look busy with work… and some other things,” her calm reply. “Besides, you told me to do anything I want the entire flight. If you have something to talk about, then please, you may talk me.”
He looked at her with an irked expression on his face. He definitely did not like her answer.
Dasha blinked. “All right. If you can’t think of anything to talk about, can I ask you something?”
He snorted and his eyes encouraged her to do so.
“You said you were looking for me for two years. Were you faithful to me all this time?”
- Writer
