Coffee and Cockpits by Jade Hart Page B

pillows I can dive into.”
    The mental image her feminine yet husky voice gave me was a little too good. There wouldn’t be just a bed as I’d be there too. And clothing would be non-existent. As for pillows, they’d be on the floor.
    I cleared my throat. Shattering my R-rated daydream. “The hotel shuttle is waiting outside. Let’s go.”
     

 
     
    I t was dark and my stomach was past hungry, running on fumes. If it wasn’t for the corset holding my snarling stomach in place, I might have buckled over with emptiness. Every bump the hotel shuttle went over sent another spasm in my neck.
    I couldn’t stop looking at the back of Liam’s head in front of me. The way his eyes darkened in the harsh glow of the airport when I’d mention tumbling into bed kept repeating. As much as I did want to sleep and drown myself in pillows, another part of me desperately wanted to dance, to writhe and jig; to prove I was alive and kicked death in its face.
    Samantha moaned beside me where we sat in the back of the minivan. Her skin was ashen, and I had a feeling delayed shock had set in. She moved to speak, but a wracking cough erupted. Her eyes widened as she pulled at her throat.
    I scooted upright from my slouch, patting her on the back. “Sam. Are you okay?”
    Liam swivelled in the seat in front of us, passing me a water bottle. “Here. Give her this.” His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the swish of tires on the road, but caused my heart to accelerate.
    “Thanks.” I took the bottle and waited for Sam to breathe again. “Take a sip.”
    After wheezing a few times she raised the bottle to her lips as we pulled into the lobby of a huge, glittering resort with fairy lights threaded through palm trees and a welcoming committee at the top of the oversized marble stairs.
    I clambered out of the van and my trolley was promptly whisked from my hands by the bellboy. The dark-skinned man, probably late teens, grinned. “Welcome to Lagi Loto.”
    The stress of the crash and aftermath washed away; I returned his smile. “Thanks. I’m happy to be here.” And truly I was. I was happy to be alive. Now all I needed was some music and a dance to soothe the remaining tension.
    I followed the crumpled looking Samantha and Joslyn to reception, waiting quietly as we checked in. Dispatch had phoned ahead and approved our little envelope of cash and a debrief letter on what would happen next.
    A gentle breeze whispered through the open-air lobby, almost as if the island welcomed us. Liam made eye contact with me and a crooked grin graced his lips. His eyes were strained, but clear as blue glass. Worry niggled a little over his head injury. A good night’s sleep and he should be okay—hopefully.
    Anderson passed the letters from operations, along with our room keys. He didn’t look well either. I think everyone needed a good rest. Samantha and Joslyn had turned into zombies—standing half-asleep, wobbling on their feet.
    “Everyone get to bed. We’ll talk more in the morning.” Anderson gently pushed us toward the inner workings of the hotel.
    No one argued, and I fought heavy eyelids. We stepped down the sweeping staircase and entered luscious tropical gardens, sprawling in the dark like a secret maze.
    A concierge zoomed out of the glow-tinged night riding a golf cart. “If you please get on, I’ll take you to your fales.”
    “Fales?” Joslyn asked.
    The driver nodded. “This resort prides itself on individual fales.” He frowned, then smiled. “It is similar to what you call a bungalow.”
    My eyes popped. “We have our own bungalow? ” Images of airy rooms and four poster beds came to mind. Kiwi Air did well choosing this hotel.
    The man nodded, waiting as we all clambered on board—a lot more awake and eager.
    Anderson swiped a hand over his face. “You know what, I’m going to walk. I’m feeling a little odd from the stress of the day. I’ll see you guys in the morning.” He strode into the soft