I shake my head. There would be at least a dozen spare rooms in this mansion. I’m sure I’ll have no trouble finding a warm bed for the night.
“Now!” Isaac barks, startling me.
He moves back to the left-hand side of the bed. As he glides back in between the sheets, his stern eyes never once leave mine. I inhale numerous breaths to settle my rattled nerves.Is this what you want, Isabelle?My head is screaming no, but my heart pleads louder than my brain.
The sternness in his eyes lessens as I step toward the bed.
“Good choice,” he murmurs when I slide into the bed next to him.
By the time two hours have passed, I've counted every rose petal adorning the ceiling medallion. It took longer than usual as I had to wait for the moon to adjust its position to finish the lower half. I shift to lie on my hip and catch the profile of Isaac. Even in the shadows of the night, my heart still skips a beat when I appraise his tempting features.
“Stop staring at me,” he says, his voice gruff.
My lips curve into a smile. “Are you awake?” I grimace at my pitiful question.
Isaac rolls onto his hip, mimicking my position. “Yep. You need to learn to count in your head.”
“I’m so sorry,” I respond, mortified. “I have a terrible habit of mumbling out loud.”
“I’ve realized that,” he jibes, his tone playful.
We lay across from each other in silence for several minutes, each appraising the other’s moonlit face in great detail. I have so many questions I want to ask him. Not one of them has anything to do with the investigation the FBI is running on him.
Isaac exhales a ragged breath while running his hand over his head. “One question, Isabelle.”
After drawing in a shaky breath, I ask the one question I’ve wanted to ask since last night. “Did you love Ophelia?”
“Yes,” he replies without a smidge of hesitation.
Tears well in my eyes and a stabbing pain hit my chest.
“Do you still love her?” I whisper.
“I said one question,” he replies bluntly before rolling onto his opposite hip.
24
Isabelle
Istumble into the plane, my knees clanging with every step I take. My eyes are open wide as my breath comes out in ragged pants. Raising my gaze, I spot Isaac sitting in the only single reclining chair in the entire private jet. This is the first time I’ve seen him today.
By the time I’d awoken this morning, he had already vacated the room. He nods before turning his attention to staring out of the plane’s round window. His brows are lowered down his face so far, he has a line etched between his eyes.His dreary mood from yesterday has apparently returned full force.
I plop into the closest chair I can find and fumble with my seatbelt. Because I'm so scared, I'm all thumbs and can't get the buckle to latch together. Tears well in my eyes as my body shakes. Isaac curses under his breath before he releases the mechanism of his belt to aid in securing my strap.
“Thank you.” My voice trembles.
Once my belt is latched and tightened around my waist, Isaac heads back to the reclining chair. Once everyone is seated, the plane taxis toward the runway. Gripping the armrest, I painfully bite my bottom lip. I want to wipe away the tear that has escaped my eye, but I’m too terrified to loosen my grip on the armrest.
The closer we get to the end of the runway, the more my panicked pants fill the silence of the cab.
“Breathe,” Isaac demands upon hearing my loud wheezes.
I try to fill my lungs with air, but my panic is so intense, I can't get enough oxygen. I'm sweating profusely, and I'm barely breathing. My lungs are burning in protest. I truly feel like I'm suffocating. When my fretful eyes lift to Isaac, I shake my head, wordlessly relaying I can't get enough air to fill my lungs.
Isaac unbuckles his belt and kneels in front of me. I want to scream at him to sit in a seat and put on a seatbelt, but my fear has rendered me speechless. Lowering my gaze to his, I peer into his beautiful eyes as my internal battle continues to rage.
“Breathe, Isabelle.” Isaac’s deep timbre rattles my bones.
