The tempted tourist
Jill Duncan shifted restlessly in her reclining airline seat, the blanket that the stewardess had given her in New York slipping in a tangled heap down her long shapely legs. For a moment she hovered between sleeping and waking, then fell back into her dream. The loud whirr of the jet engines became the excited buzz of spectators in a crowded courtroom, and she herself was sitting in the defense attorney's chair staring at the prosecutor in front of her. He was shouting, "True or false? True or false? Tea or coffee?" And when she didn't answer he began shaking her arm, repeating, "Tea or coffee?"
Jill groaned, not understanding his question, and then the courtroom abruptly faded as she opened her eyes to stare around the jet in confusion. A well-dressed man seated beside her was gently shaking her and speaking the words she'd heard in her dream, and a wide-awake and smiling stewardess was standing in the aisle with two steaming silver pots and a cart full of cups and saucers.
"Coffee," she muttered, rubbing her eyes and pushing her tousled red hair out of her face. Groggily accepting the plastic tray containing a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a sweet roll, Jill turned to smile at the man beside her.
"Gosh, I was really dead to the world. Thanks for waking me up."
"Well, I thought you might be hungry if you missed breakfast. You fell asleep before they served dinner last night."
Jill gulped down the hot coffee and began to feel fully awake. She glanced at the man out of the corner of her eye, noting that he was handsome with curly blond hair and blue eyes. His English was perfect, but a slight foreign accent prevented him from sounding like an American. He must be Scandinavian, she decided, and maybe he'd be able to tell her some interesting things about northern Europe. This excited the young redhead much more than his rugged good looks, for she prided herself on being scholarly rather than silly and romantic.
"Excuse me, but are you Scandinavian?" she asked him politely.
"You can tell by my accent?" he said with a little laugh. "I have studied the English language for ten years in school, but still I have an accent."
Jill was afraid she had insulted him. "Oh, no, you speak very good English," she reassured him. "I just wondered if you knew anything about Denmark. I'm going there to live for a year, you see."
"Let me welcome you to our little land," he smiled. I'm glad she's not just another tourist, he was thinking to himself. This girl's built like a bomb, and I'd like to know her better… much better. "Will you be staying in Copenhagen?"