“Hey.” Laurent’s boots shook the wooden porch, and I looked over my shoulder and up at him, perking up at the phone he held out. “It’s da big man. For you.”
I pushed to my feet and grabbed the phone from his hand. “Thank you.”
Turning away, I lifted the phone to my ear. “Hey.”
“Hey, love.” He sounded tired, the vowels gruff, but there was a lilt in the greeting, something that gave me hope. “Ready to come home?”
I squealed, jumping a little in place at the unexpected gift. “Yes. Now. Immediately. When?”
“I’ve got to meet with the funeral director first thing in the morning, then I’ll head to the airport. I’ll be there by one or two, your time.”
I nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
He chuckled, and I wished I could see it, could see the stretch of those beautiful features, the glint of his grin, the way his eyes warmed, and he looked at me as if I alone held the key to his happiness.
“Are you okay, Bell?”
It was the wrong question at the wrong time, the tender concern in his voice puncturing my dam of control.
I pinched my eyes shut and fought to maintain my composure. “I’m fine.” The last word whispered out of me, trembling in its delivery, and he would have had to be deaf not to hear it.
“I’m going to make everything right. When you—when we come back here—I’ll do everything right. Take care of you. Protect you. You’re going to want for nothing, do you understand that?”
It was a desperate question, his control wobbling, and the man still didn’t understand what made me tick. He still waved money and finery in the same fist as love and comfort, not recognizing the value in his presence. I wanted him. I wanted his love. His time. His attention. Nothing else.
“Do you understand? This isn’t like before. Everything has changed now.”
“Yes.”
Everything has changed now. He was right. No Gwen. No Hawk. I would go back to Vegas with him and ... my mind tried to grasp the idea of what my new reality would be.
What was a single Dario like? How would he be as a boyfriend? His wife had just died. What emotional capacity, if any, would he have? And he had just been accused of murdering his wife. Without a trial or proof of Robert Hawk’s guilt, the paparazzi—and the public opinion— would follow him, and us, everywhere.
Everything has changed now. He said it like it was a good thing, but standing in the damp heat of a Louisiana night, Laurent’s phone pressed to my ear ... I wanted a moment where everything went back to how it had been. Careless sexual chemistry. Late night texts. Butterflies and forbidden moments.
Everything has changed now.
“I love you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you too.”
He paused, and I could feel the weight of the silence, the press of some unasked question hanging between us. I waited, but he only told me goodbye, and we hung up.
I took a deep breath, then went to tell Laurent the news.
The airport was eerily familiar. Still deserted. Still broken pavement and a chain-link fence. When I was last here, I’d stumbled off that plane, afraid and intimidated further by the giant man who met me there. Now, I stood next to Laurent, staring out at the sunny runway, and breathed in the familiar scent of his soap.
“Thank you. For everything.” I fought the urge to hug him. It would be awkward, most definitely. He’d probably untangle my arms and step away. Or stand stick straight and pat my back with the sort of motion you reserve for elderly grandmothers. I looked back to the runway and tucked my hands into my back pockets instead. “I know I was a total pain in the ass.”
He shrugged. “You was.”
I laughed, and a dragonfly buzzed away, as if surprised by the sound.
Laurent shifted, started to speak, then stopped himself. I waited, curious about what he was struggling to get out.
“Let me tell you a little bit about our boy. This wasn’t a small thing, sending you here. And right now, he probably feels a little broken. This isn’t the first time he’s lost someone he’s close to, someone that he felt responsible to take care of.”
He leaned forward and spat in the dirt. “You know, Dario lost his Momma as a teenager.”
I nodded.
“He didn’t handle it well. All but killed himself on alcohol and loose women, got locked up half a dozen times before he was able to figure himself out.”
He glanced at me. “This time, he’s handling it da best that he can. And he’s doing a lot betta than I thought. But it’s going to be hard on him, Gwen’s daddy dying like that. It takes away Dario’s ability to handle the situation. He’s going to feel cheated. So go easy on him. Be patient with him.”
“He loved her.” I swallowed, my pride struggling with the right words. “It’s hard for me, seeing that—”
“Easy now.” He pulled me in front of him, making me look him square in the eyes. “It was a different sort of love, what he had for her. I’ve known that man since I was a babe, grew up next to him. I’ve never known him to really fall for a woman before. He hadn’t ever let ‘emself do that, or never found da right woman.”
I looked away from him and he tightened his grip on my shoulders. I reluctantly brought my gaze back to his face.
“But he’s acting different with you. I’ve been watching what he’s doing. He spent a long time making that life with Gwen and hadn’t veered off that path for thirteen years, now. For him to have risked it, for him to still be chasing you down and sticking by your side? That not the Dario I know. That a different man. So?” He shrugged. “Maybe it be love. Maybe you the one for him. I hadn’t seen enough of you together. But he coulda sent you anywhere to be protected. He sent you here, to his home. He’s fought for you in that hell of a city and risked being locked up over it. And now he’s coming back to get ya, the first chance he get. Those are big steps for our big man.”
We heard it then, the faint drone that grew louder. I lifted my chin and stared at the sky, finding the moving lights, the dip of the plane as it curved toward the runway. I shook free of Laurent and stepped out onto the open pavement, and watched his approach, wondering if he could see me.
Laurent’s words followed me, hummed in my ears, even as the plane drew closer, its engine louder, my clothes beginning to press against my body from the force of the wind.
I had viewed being here as a curse. But maybe, instead, it had been a blessing. A sign of Dario’s love.
The plane coasted down, bouncing slightly on the runway before touching the ground, the noise deafening, the force of the wind flattening my hair across my face, the dark strands tangling in my mouth and nose. I pushed them away and turned back to Laurent.
“THANK YOU!” I called out the words and he nodded. I stepped forward, unable to resist, and flung my arms around him, gripping him tightly in a hug.
He handled it well. No polite taps on the shoulder. No stiff stillness. He squeezed me carefully, then released me. “You take care of yourself. And him.”
I stepped away. “I will.” Turning, I jogged to meet the plane.
* * *
DARIO
He could see her through the fogged glass of the King Air. Hair whipping in the wind. Arms tightly crossed over her abdomen. She stopped and waited, her head turning to face into the breeze. The sight of her was almost painful. He’d felt the same way a few days ago, hidden in Laurent’s truck, watching her talk to him on the phone. Every movement she’d made had been a tug on his heart, his guilt, his need.
What if he lost her, too? How would he handle it? How could he continue?
The fear was so intense he almost pushed away, had attempted to fight for distance during this last week, had struggled to find his ground—one separate from her.
But he couldn’t. His fear was intermingled with love—or caused by it. The stronger the fear grew, the stronger the love became. His only option was to remove all risks. Keep her safe, treat her like a queen, win her
heart. Go all in, and hope that luck, for just this one time, was in his favor.
The plane settled to a stop, the locks disengaging, and he pushed himself out of the seat and forced the heavy door open. The airlock broke, and the humidity rushed in, bringing with it the familiar scent of pollen and swamp. He cranked it fully open and unfolded the steps, jumping over them in his haste to get on the ground and into her arms.
When they met, her hug had the strength of a tiger. She gripped him fiercely, and their lips met. Collided. Melted.
He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off the ground, his mouth greedy on hers, sucking, kissing, nipping at her lips. He had missed her taste, her fire, her need. The warmth of her hug, the give of her body, the shine in those eyes. He pulled away and stared down at her, memorizing every inch of her delicate features.
So beautiful. So strong. His. He would learn. He’d learn to love her without restraint, without the fear of evil lurking, without the many facades and lies.
She was his future.
Fourteen
BELL
Peace. I rested my head on his thigh and looked up at him. In the dark interior of the plane, he was all shadows and outlines, rugged sexuality hidden just enough to drive me crazy.
He looked down at me and smiled. “I’ve missed you.”
He ran his hand through my hair, carefully untangling the strands and I closed my eyes at the sensation, stretching my legs out across the bench seat until my toes hit the cool exterior wall. The plane rocked a little, and I felt my stomach pitch in response. I put a hand on my belly. I should have skipped the pork rinds on the drive over.
“Where are we going?”
“Good question.” He shifted a little underneath me, and I almost mewled in pleasure when the tips of his fingers gently ran across my scalp. “I don’t know where to go. I haven’t been back home since—since Gwen died.” His fingers stopped their journey, and I looked up at him.
“I can’t go back in that penthouse. She’s everywhere in it. And I can’t even stand to be in the building. With what almost happened to you...” He shook his head. “It’s tainted.”
“But you have other homes, right? Somewhere else you can stay?”
He nodded, his eyes on me. “Yeah. We own—”
He stopped and swore, pulling his gaze away from me and looking out the window, the night sky illuminating the unshaved line of his jaw. I’d never seen him with facial hair before, and I reached up, running my fingers along the soft scruff of it. I watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, control shuttering back over his features.
“I,” he amended quietly. “There’s a dozen other properties I own, hotels and casinos. Finding a suite isn’t a problem. But I’d rather find something without a history. Someplace we can stay that’s secure, at least to ride out the next few weeks.”
I pushed myself off of his lap and into an upright position.
“You want to move in together?”
He had the audacity to look hurt. “You don’t?”
“I—”
I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t want to be apart from him but wanted my independence. Moving in with him seemed like a giant step forward in a relationship that was barely past infancy. I pointed this out, and he frowned.
“I think we passed infancy back in San Diego. And with everything that has happened since...” He reached out and pulled me closer, lifting me onto his lap.
My head brushed against the top of the ceiling and I ducked a little, laughing despite myself. “This plane isn’t exactly designed for canoodling.”
He pulled on my neck, brought my mouth to his, and I forgot my next words. My mouth opened—hungry—and he met my tongue with his. God, he knew how to kiss. He dominated me while still teasing, his hand digging into my hair, holding my head in place as he gently sucked on my lip, bruised over my tender skin and soothed it all with one talented swipe of his tongue. I relaxed into his hold, trusting him, needing him, each kiss another stitch holding me together.
I needed more. More touching, more contact, more of him. I broke away from his kiss and glanced over my shoulder. Behind us, a row of seats faced backward, the back of the pilot’s head was visible just past the headrests. I returned my attention to him, reaching down and pulling at the soft waistband of his workout pants.
He read my mind and shook his head at me, his eyes growing darker. I slid my hand under the fabric, along the hot surface of his skin, and smiled when my fingers made contact with his cock. He hissed when I gripped him, already hard, already needy—a status that only fueled my intent. I worked my fist along his shaft and watched the drug of arousal steal over his features. Yes.
“Bell...” He whispered my name, and it was both a plea and a protest. I ignored the protest and slid my grip to the base of his shaft, admiring the length and girth of it. God, he was beautiful. His thick shaft, a smooth, perfect head, and the ability to swell and stiffen at just the touch of my fingers.
“I need this,” I whispered.
It was stupid of me to wear jeans. I should have been like him, in loose pants that could quickly be pulled away. Instead, I had on skinny jeans that would take a surgical team to peel off.
“I’ve missed this.” I leaned forward, and he lifted his chin to meet me, this kiss slower, his mouth distracted with the increased action of my hand. I broke away and glanced back at the pilot.
“Ignore him. Kiss me again.”
I didn’t argue. I leaned forward and met his lips, feeling the catch of his breath when I rolled my thumb over his head.
The plane continued, the pilot ignored us, and the cabin heated up as I worked my hand faster, and his grip on me tightened.
“I see what you did there.” Dario squeezed my knee.
I turned toward him and repositioned the pillow, stifling a yawn. “What did I do?”
Behind him, sun pierced through the window. I tilted my head to the side so his profile blocked the glare.
“You tried to distract me with sex.”
“That wasn’t sex. It was a hand job. One-sided pleasure.” I stuck out my tongue at him, and he smiled.
“I’ll rectify that situation the moment I get you out of those jeans.”
The yawn came back, and I lost the battle, reaching up my hand to cover the gesture. “That extraction process will probably have to wait. I’m exhausted.”
He ran his hand along my legs, squeezing the muscles as he went. “Why don’t you want to move in with me?”
“It’s not that I don’t—” I stopped myself. “I do.” I shifted lower in the seat. “I’ve just never done that with anyone I’ve dated before.”
“I’m not certain you’ve ever had a real relationship before.”
A valid point, but not one I was ready to admit. “It’s still a big step for me. I just need to marinate on it for a day or so.”
He nodded, and I could see how exhausted he was. My feelings of guilt, my depression, and struggle over the last few days… his had to be so much worse. And yet, he hadn’t had time to recover. He’d been in jail and confronting Hawk, working with police, and flying cross-country to see me.
I pressed a kiss gently against his forehead and he closed his eyes. “Okay,” I whispered.
His eyes opened. “Okay, what?”
“I marinated.” I smiled. “I’m ready.”
* * *
When we stepped off the plane, they were waiting. A string of FBI windbreakers, moving forward as if I was wanted for treason. I hesitated at the top of the plane’s steps, and Dario nudged me.
“It’s okay. I promise.”
I took the steps carefully and was met at the bottom by a man with a bushy mustache.
“Bell Hartley?” He eyed me carefully, examining my outfit as if it might hold evidence. While I had been wearing these jeans the night Gwen was killed, any evidence from them was probably in Laurent’s lint filter right now.
“Yes?”
“We have some questions for you
.” he gestured behind him, to a dark navy eighteen-passenger. “If you could please come with us.”
“She’ll meet you at the field office,” Dario interrupted. “Or the station, wherever you prefer. With her attorney.”
The man’s gaze moved to mine, a question mark in them. I nodded.
“For your own safety, Ms. Hartley. We’d prefer you to ride with us—”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’d rather not.” I leaned against Dario, and his hand tightened on my waist.
The man studied both of us, then nodded.
* * *
My second experience in a police station went more smoothly than the first. It still took three hours, I still told the same stories four different times, and still had to be photographed and fingerprinted. But no one scoffed at me, and this time I had an attorney. She was an asshole, but she was my asshole, and half-way through the questioning, I relaxed, secure in the knowledge that she had everything under control. When I finally walked out, I leaned on Dario for physical and emotional support.
“How’d you do?” He wrapped his arms around me.
“She did great.” The attorney spoke, and Dario looked to me for confirmation.
I nodded. “It wasn’t bad. They weren’t happy that I skipped town, and I’ve been told not to do that again without telling them.”
“Fuck them,” Dario responded, leaning forward and giving me a kiss. “Let’s get you home. You look exhausted.”
Just the suggestion of sleep caused me to yawn. He chuckled, then reached out and shook the attorney’s hand. ‘Thanks.”
She nodded. “I’ll be in touch if anything changes.”
“Make sure it doesn’t.” He opened my car door and I sank into the seat.