A Secretive Deal with My Billionaire Boss novel Chapter 245

Chapter 245

Madison

I leaned back against the plush leather seat, watching the city blur past through the tinted windows. Alexander’s hand rested casually on my thigh, his thumb tracing idle circles that sent little sparks through my body.

“Nervous about flying?” he asked, noticing my fidgeting.

“No, just wondering why you suddenly decided we needed to go to London.” I turned to face him, raising an eyebrow. “You’re not exactly forthcoming with details, Mr. Knight.”

His lips quirked up at the formal address. “I thought I’d killed that habit in private.”

“Old habits die hard.” I shrugged, trying not to smile. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

The car slowed as we approached the private airfield, where his jet was waiting. I could see it through the window: sleek, white, and undoubtedly worth more than I’d earn in several lifetimes.

“Business and pleasure,” he finally said, squeezing my thigh. “We found Selena’s location. And I thought while we’re there, I could show you London.”

My heartbeat quickened. “You want to show me London? Like actually sightseeing?”

Alexander’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Is that so hard to believe? I do know there’s more to life than boardrooms and bedrooms.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” I muttered, looking away to hide my smile.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against my ear. “I heard that, Ms. Harper.”

The way he said my name sent a shiver down my spine. I straightened in my seat as the car pulled to a stop beside the jet.

“I’ve never been to London,” I admitted as the driver opened my door.

Alexander stepped out on his side and buttoned his suit jacket. “Then I’ll have to make sure your first time is memorable.”

“Everything’s innuendo with you, isn’t it?”

“Only when you make it so easy.” He placed his hand on the small of my back, guiding me toward the stairs of the private jet.

The flight attendant greeted us with a practiced smile. “Welcome aboard, Mr. Knight, Ms. Harper.”

Inside, the jet was all cream leather and polished wood. I ran my fingers over the butter–soft armrest, trying not to look impressed. Knowing Alexander, this trip would likely follow his usual pattern: some fancy hotel suite where we’d barely see daylight, let alone Big Ben or Buckingham Palace. Part of me hoped he’d actually meant what he said about showing me London, not just the ceiling of another luxury hotel room.

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Chapter 245

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“Champagne?” Alexander offered, already pouring two glasses.

I accepted the flute. “Isn’t it a bit early?”

“It’s never too early for Dom Pérignon.” He clinked his glass against mine. “To London.”

“To actually seeing London,” I clarified with a pointed look.

“You don’t trust me to be a proper tour guide?”

“Your idea of sightseeing usually involves fewer clothes than the average tourist.”

Alexander laughed. “I promise to keep you adequately dressed in public.”

“How generous.”

The jet began taxiing down the runway. I buckled my seatbelt and sipped my champagne, watching Alexander scroll through emails on his phone. His jaw was set in that way it got when he was thinking about work.

“So, Selena,” I prompted. “What did Leo find?”

Alexander set his phone down. “She’s been living under an alias in Chelsea. Leo tracked her through some financial transactions.”

“And what’s the plan once we find her?”

“I want answers.” His voice hardened. “Someone paid her to drug me that night, and I need to know who orchestrated it. And if she was the mastermind behind it all, I need to understand her motives and what she hoped to gain from it.”

The plane lifted off, pressing me back into my seat. I finished my champagne, the bubbles dancing on my

tongue.

“You seem tense,” Alexander observed, taking my empty glass.

“Just thinking about what we’re walking into.”

“Don’t worry.” His hand found mine, surprisingly gentle. “This is my mess to clean up. You’re just along for the

ride.”

“And the sightseeing,” I reminded him.

“And the sightseeing,” he agreed with a smile that made my stomach flip.

The flight passed in a blur of champagne, gourmet food, and Alexander alternating between work calls and asking about places I wanted to visit in London. By the time we landed, evening had fallen over the city, lights twinkling below us as we descended.

Another sleek black car waited on the tarmac. The driver loaded our luggage while Alexander placed his hand on my lower back, guiding me inside.

“The Savoy,” he instructed the driver, then turned to me. “You’ll love it. It’s historic.”

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