Linus stood before his desk in reflection, looking down at the tickets. The clean lines of Air France evoked a swift, seamless journey, like their flit to Paris was supposed to be.

As she suspected, he had pushed, and he'd pushed her too far. Now the question was, on which side of the fence would she fall: back into David's arms, to try to convince him to run away with her instead; or far, far away from anything and anyone named Larrabee?

Either way, he'd probably lose Fairchild. That was a pity. It'd be hard to replace such a fine chauffeur.

He walked over to his intercom and pressed the button for Mack. No answer. Of course, she'd already said good night.

He rounded the desk and pulled out his cell phone to call Mack's speed dial. She'd need to contact the Thruway and have them report any Larrabee vehicle carrying David and Sabrina that passed a toll booth.

Wait. Sabrina had said something about toll booths. The helicopter was useful for avoiding them. Of course. David probably would take the helicopter if he wanted to make a quick getaway.

Linus' hovering thumb switched to the key for the family pilot. He'd reserve the helicopter and the jet for his own use. Then he'd have the Thruway look out for David's convertible, and then …

After a moment, Linus slid the antenna back down into its socket and softly snapped the phone shut. If they wanted to run away, why stop them. Sabrina had always been in love with David. If he was being honest with himself, Linus couldn't even be sure whether David truly loved Elizabeth, or whether he'd let Linus nudge him farther into a relationship than he'd ever intended to go while the adults in the room worked to secure the Tyson deal.

Mother was right. They didn't need this money. There would be other deals. Linus had missed the boat before and still come back stronger. As for Sabrina, she'd learn the other side of David's short attention span soon enough. At least Linus would have his conscience clear of being the one to dump her in Paris.

He stuffed the phone into his pocket and picked up the tickets. The uppermost one had a crease in the top flap. He flipped it open to smooth it out. Finding the print too small to read this close, he automatically felt for his shirt pocket and pulled out his glasses.

Sabrina Fairchild — One Way

The last time these glasses had been on his face, she'd been touching him.

He suddenly felt very old.