Lina's breath caught in her throat.
She scrambled backward on all fours, ducking behind the elegant lounge chair beside the minibar. Her heart thundered in her chest, every beat echoing in her ears.
She couldn't see the door from where she was now, but she could hear the subtle rustle of clothing, the light thump of a shoe against the carpet.
Someone had come in.
She could smell their cologne now. Clean. Expensive. Unfamiliar?
She clenched her fists to keep them from shaking.
Please don't find me . . . don't find me . . .
She risked a glance between the slats of the minibar's side panel. A tall figure moved inside the room now—one of the crew?
The owner of the jet?
They hadn't spoken, hadn't called out. They seemed to be checking the space, not expecting anyone to be there.
Lina's mind raced.
Do I reveal myself? Do I wait until they leave? What if they notice something—my bag?
