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"And if I say no?"
"I’ll simply throw you over my shoulder and carry you there."
"You won’t," I say through gritted teeth, even though I, obviously, know he will.
He reaches for me and I throw up my hands, “Fine, step back, will you? So I can get out.” He moves back just enough for me to swing my legs out. I rise to my feet, straighten my dress, then brush past him. He slams the door of the car and follows me. He draws abreast with me, then proceeds to take my hand in his. I try to resist but he glares at me.
"Behave," he warns in that hard voice that sends a thrill up my back.Gesù Cristo, why am I still so attracted to him, and after that stunt he pulled back there?
He prowls inside the hangar—and it is a hangar, for I see a plane parked in there. It’s a gleaming piece of work and he walks straight over to it and up the steps, pulling me in his wake. Is he flying out of the country? Of course, he’s flying out of the country. If we stayed in Italy, we’d be found very quickly. In fact, I had been counting on that. But leaving the country? Now, that’s a whole new ball game. How had he found someone who would work with him anyway?
A man greets us at the top of the steps. He’s wearing a captain’s hat and uniform. He hands over a phone to Axel, who pockets it before they shake hands.
"We’re ready for take-off," the captain says in a British accent.
"Good," Axel nods, "we are ready to go." He doesn’t introduce me; the man doesn’t ask. Instead, he hauls up the steps behind us and proceeds to lock the door for take-off. I glance around at the plush carpet, the leather seats. Axel walks past me and takes a seat. He pats the one next to him, "Sit down, and belt up, we are about to take off."
Under my feet, the low thrum of the engines vibrates. I walk over and pointedly drop into a seat on the opposite side of the aisle from him.
His lips twist, "Wear your seatbelt."
"So you keep saying," I snort as I fasten my seatbelt, "you don’t fool me though. I know that my safety is the last thing on your mind."
"If it helps you to keep believing that..." he raises a shoulder.
"It does." I lean back and close my eyes as we taxi down the runway. "They won’t leave you alone. It doesn’t matter where you go; they are going to hunt you down and—"
"And what? They’ll punish me? Shoot me?"
He pulls his phone out of his pocket and his fingers fly across the keypad. "We’ll see."
Despite the fact—or maybe it’s because of the tumultuous events of the morning, but as soon as I close my eyes, I fall asleep. When I wake up, we are landing. There is a trickle of water across the windshield. I straighten and a jacket falls off my shoulder. His jacket.
I glance over to find Axel is still tapping on his phone. We touch down with barely a bump, and I glance out at the gray light. The clouds seem to hang low in the sky. I fold my arms around myself.
"Wear the jacket." He pockets his phone as the plane taxis to a stop. He rises up to his feet and holds out his hand. I ignore it, then shrug into his jacket. Not because I want to obey him, but because it looks cold out there.
"Are we in London?" I rise to my feet.
"How did you know?" he asks, sounding impressed.
"The rain." I shrug, "And the captain's accent. I’m not stupid, you know. Makes sense that you’d come back to your home turf. Of course, it’s probably the first place they’ll look for you."
He leans over, and I try to move back, but the seat has me blocked. He proceeds to fasten my buttons, stopping only when all of them have been done up. Then he turns, and once again, threads his fingers through mine as we head to the doorway. The pilot comes over and opens the door. Instantly, the chill air sweeps over me and I shiver.
"Cold?" He pulls me closer and we walk down the steps in tandem. He heads for a car, talks to someone who hands the keys over to him then leaves. I am so tired that I can barely stay on my feet. I slide into the passenger seat, and this time, put on my seatbelt without his prompting. Instantly, I fall asleep. The next time I open my eyes it’s dark outside, and we are still driving.
"Where are we going?" I yawn as I snuggle down further into the jacket. Hot air blows in from the vent of the car and I am grateful for it.
"You’ll see," he slants me a sideways glance and I notice the shadow on his jaw. Good grief, the man is virile, but I knew that already. He switches gears with his left hand and I notice the band around his finger. My husband—we are married. Hell, we are married and he kidnapped me. The panic wells up and I swallow it down. I glance away, close my eyes, and allow sleep to pull me under.
The next time I wake up, I am in a strange bed in a strange room, alone.
36
Axel
I raise the glass to my lips, then toss back the whiskey. Reaching for the bottle, I top myself up.
