Chapter Seven
Sydney was sobbing when she left the house. She got into her car and hid her face in her hands. She considered going back inside and apologizing to both Will and Francie. Plus, she needed to pack. She didn't want to have to explain herself to Sark when she got to the airport.
Screw it, she muttered and started the engine.
I expected you sooner, Sark said in an annoyed tone as Sydney walked up to him.
Do you honestly think I care when you expected me?
Sark frowned. Where's your suitcase?
Sydney fought the urge to smirk. What suitcase?
Sark narrowed his eyes. You didn't pack?
Sark shrugged his shoulders. Oh well. He dug into his pocket and pulled out the tickets.
Sydney took the ticket he held in his outstretched hand and studied it. Why didn't Sloane give these to us at the meeting?
He was in a hurry and forgot. So I talked to him earlier today and he gave them to me.
It doesn't say where we're going, Sydney commented.
He was going to tell me that but he had an important phone call to attend to, Sark told her.
So we have no idea where the hell we're being sent? Sydney asked angrily.
Sark looked down to avoid her gaze.
Sydney muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. She leaned against a wall and looked down.
Sark took a couple of steps towards her. You don't trust him, do you?
Sydney looked up to see Sark standing about a foot away from her. She sighed heavily, causing Sark to smirk. She groaned and rolled her eyes as she remembered Sark's comment of her apparent overuse of the sigh. It's just that something like this has never happened before as long as I've worked here.
Sark took another step forward and rested his palms on the wall, subsequently trapping her. To his surprise, Sydney didn't try and move to get away nor even flinch. He leaned in more so that his face was just inches from hers. You still don't trust him.
Sydney stood up straight with her arms to her sides, allowing her to be even closer to Sark. She was able to get a hint of his cologne.
Old Spice.
Classic, simple, maybe even a tad boring, and it didn't seem to suit Sark. But at least it smelled good. She studied his eyes. Despite the accusations he was making, his (soft, ice blue) eyes seemed to indicate that he didn't trust Sloane any more than she did.
She thought about kissing him. A slight movement of her head forward would affix her lips with his. She shivered a little and felt her nipples harden in anticipation. She crossed her arms over her chest quickly, doubtful that her jacket would be able to hide the development.
Sark tensed. He breathed slowly, Sydney's scent of vanilla filling his nostrils. It was intoxicating. He wanted to kiss her. It seemed that her (full, ruby red) lips were calling to him.
What happened next was a blur: Sark started to close his eyes when he saw Sydney doing the same. He leaned in, his lips parted slightly.
A voice came over the loudspeaker, Now boarding flight 713 at gate 26.
Sark stepped back as they both exhaled deeply. Sydney began to walk towards the gate. She looked around and noticed that the area was completely deserted except for herself, Sark, and the bored-looking woman standing at her podium thumbing through a magazine, waiting for people with tickets.
Sydney walked over to the woman and handed her the ticket. Sark was right behind her.
I hope you two have a very nice flight, the woman said with a wink after she had given both Sydney and Sark their respective ticket stubs.
Sydney swallowed hard, clearly uncomfortable. Sark was as charming as ever.
Well, thank you very much, I'm sure we'll have just a lovely time. He returned the wink. The woman suppressed a giggle as she turned to look at Sydney, who simply scoffed and made her way to the entrance of the plane.