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“A friend who owed me a favor.”
“A private jumbo-jet at your disposal? He must be a heck of a friend.”
“He’s a complete dick,” Dante drawled.
His signature lack of emotion made me laugh. “I can see why the two of you are friends.”
“You think I’m a dick?”
I nodded, not afraid of his creased brow. “Yes. But I also think you like being a dick.”
I tried to draw him into more conversation. I had enough silence in the car and thanks to my nerves, I really needed some companionship. I looked down at my watch. It was almost eight o’clock, which meant we were probably at an airstrip somewhere near Hartford. The drive hadn’t been as long as it had felt.
“Back to the blindfold. You didn’t have to do that, just to keep our destination a secret. I know we’re at an airstrip close to Hartford. There’s nowhere else a private plane this size could fly out of.”
“Congratulations.”
He was so infuriating with his one-word answer.
“You also told me to pack warm-weather clothes. So, we must be going somewhere hotter than Connecticut.”
“Congratulations again. Someplace hotter than Connecticut in December. That leaves most of the planet.”
We were quiet for a few minutes while I thought of what else I could ask to solicit more information from him. Then I remembered who I was talking to. The direct approach always worked with Dante.
“So. Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a dick, remember?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. His deadpan tone was perfect. I laughed so hard at his self-deprecating insult that I had tears in my eyes. I wiped them away. Maybe it was an excessive response. My nerves were wound so tight it was euphoric to be able to let go and enjoy the moment. I enjoyed it so much I didn’t notice that we were in the air and leveling off until the “ding” told me we were able to unbuckle our seat belts and move around the cabin.
The calming reassurance of Dante’s hand over mine disappeared. When he started to move away, I reached out for him.
“Thank you.” I smiled, searching his eyes for something I knew I wouldn’t find.
And I didn’t. His eyes were as dark and emotionless as always. Dante nodded, not saying a word. But that slight inclination of his head was enough for me. He knew what he’d done, and I was grateful for it. We didn’t need to talk about it.
Dante wasn’t a conversationalist. He could have told me to stop talking. He could have ignored me completely. But he didn’t. He engaged me just enough to keep my mind occupied and off the fact that we were reaching altitude and were currently miles above the earth.
I breathed a sigh of relief. I don’t know why take-offs and landings bothered me so much, but once we were fully in the air, my anxiety level decreased significantly. One hurdle had been overcome. Next, I had to get through the landing. Since I had no idea where we were going, I also had no idea how long I had before I had to brace myself for possible death again. Yes, I’m a coward. I’ve only flown a handful of times in my life. I didn’t have the experience or the confidence to fly without hesitation.
Dante, however, had no such qualms. He leaned back in his seat, eyes closed again, hands clasped across his lap. My hand lingered over his arm. I wanted to shake him so he would talk to me, give me something to do with my time. I watched as the stern lines around his face evened out. His mouth relaxed and his chest rose and fell steadily. How could he be so relaxed, falling asleep within seconds? I didn’t have the heart to wake him up just to alleviate my anxiety.
I put my finger to my lips when Sylvia appeared. She looked at Dante and smiled understandingly, motioning me over to a small table on the other side of the cabin.
“Dinner’s being prepared like Mr. Calegari asked. Would you prefer to wait for him?”
“Actually, I’m kinda hungry. I’ll eat now, but maybe, save that champagne for when he wakes up?”
Sylvia took great care of me while Dante napped, serving me a shrimp cocktail Bloody Mary followed by what was the best steak salad I’d ever eaten. Dining alone wasn’t how I imagined our first night together, but the raspy sound of his light snores coming from the other side of the cabin made me smile. Clearly, the man was exhausted.
Once I finished eating, Lyle appeared for the first time.
“Good evening, ma’am. I’m Lyle. Sylvia’s down for the night. I’ll be with you this for the night owl express. Can I get you another drink or some water?”
