Unused to being so firmly guided, and hampered by a stride a fraction to his, Dara struggled to maintain her composure while she trotted beside him. “Luhan-ssi, I hope I don’t have to jog all the way to Busan.” He stopped and grinned at her. She tried, and failed, not to pant. His grin, she discovered, was a strange and powerful weapon, and one for which she had not yet developed a defense.

“Thought you were in a hurry, Miss…” He glanced at her ticket, and she watched the grin vanish. When his eyes lifted, all remnants of humor had fled. His mouth was grim. She would have retreated from the waves of hostility had not his grip on her arm prevented her. “Sandara Park?” It was more accusation than question.

“Yes, you’ve read it correctly.” She said.

Luhan’s eyes narrowed. She found her cool façade melting with disconcerting speed. “You’re going to see Yang Hyung Suk?”

Her eyes widened. For an instant, a flash of hope flickered on her face. But his expression remained set and hostile. She smothered the impulse to ask a hundred questions as she felt his tightening fingers bruise her arm.

“I don’t know how that concerns you, Luhan-ssi,” she began, “but yes. Do you know my father?” she faltered over the final word, finding the novelty of its use bittersweet.

“Yes, I know him…a great deal better than you do. Well, Duchess-“he released her as if the contact was offensive “-I doubt if fifteen years late is better than never, but we’ll see. Gimhae International Airport is at your disposal.” He inclined his head and gave Dara a half bow. “The trip’s on the house. I can hardly charge the owners prodigal daughter.” Luhan retrieved her luggage from the terminal in thunderous silence. In the wake of the storm, Dara followed, stunned by his hostility and by his information.

Her father owned an airline. She remembered Yang Hyun Suk only as a pilot, with the dream of his own planes a distant fantasy. When had the dream become a reality? Why did this man, who was currently tossing her mother’s elegant luggage like so many duffel bags into a small, streamlined plane, turn such hostility on her at the discovery of her name? How did he know fifteen years had spanned her separation from her father? She opened to question Luhan as he rounded the nose of the plane. She shut it again as he turned and captured her with his angry stare.

“Up you go, Duchess. We’ve got twenty-eight minutes to endure each other’s company.” His hands went to her waist, and he hoisted her as if she were no more burden than a feather pillow. He eased his long frame into the seat beside her. She became uncomfortably aware of his manliness (though she really thinks his face contradicts it cause let’s just be honest, he really looks like a girl) and attempted to ignore him by giving intense concentration to the buckling of her safety belt. Beneath her lashes, she watched as he flicked at the controls before he engine roared to life.

As they gained height, the colors in the scene below became so intense that they seemed artificial. Soon the shades blended. Browns, greens, and blues softened with distance. Flashes of scarlet and yellow merged before fading. The plane soared with a surge of power, then its wings tilted as it made a curving arch and hurtled into th