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I say nothing and she hisses. “2 pm. What changed?”
“On the contrary, Miss. Kensington.” I lean back in my seat and rest my arm along the back of it, my fingers barely touching the back of her neck, and I smile. “My timing is impeccable. I just never mentioned what’s happening at 2 pm.”
She edges further away and says with disdain.
“Then enlighten me.”
I glance down at her shapely legs, dressed in pantyhose with her ankles crossed above her sharp nude stilettos. Her beige shift dress is the epitome of elegance, and her freshly washed hair is carefully pulled into a chignon behind her. Abigail Kensington is American royalty, and it’s no wonder her marriage has been arranged. That makes this even more delicious, and I shrug, appearing unconcerned.
“All in good time.”
We make the rest of the journey in silence and I’ve no doubt she is wondering what’s going on. She should be afraid, very afraid, because what I have planned for this woman is nothing short of evil.
Rather than head home, we come to a stop at the airfield, and she says quickly, ‘What’s happening?”
The door opens and as I step out, I reach for her hand. “We’re taking a trip, princess.”
She remains in her seat.
“Where?” Her eyes flash as she asks her question and I almost groan out loud. No wonder Mario is besotted with this woman. I’m definitely seeing the attraction because that bastard gets off on control and the woman staring coolly at me would challenge even the most dominant male.
Rather than answer her, I decide to show her who she’s dealing with and removing my gun, I aim it at her head, loving the blood draining from her face as her eyes widen in fear.
“Get out of the car, princess and speak when you’re spoken to.”
This has the desired effect, and she is soon scrambling from the car, all her earlier bravado left in tatters on the floor.
Grabbing her arm, I manhandle her up the steps into the plane and note the amused glances of my flight crew who have seen this all before.
Pushing her into a seat, I snarl, “Now buckle up, baby, and enjoy the ride.”
She doesn’t even question me and I’m a little disappointed about that.
As I take my seat opposite her, the flight attendant offers me a whiskey and a flute of champagne for my guest.
It amuses me when she accepts it with shaking fingers and drains the glass entirely before leaning back and closing her eyes, effectively shutting me out.
Cesare shakes his head and grins as he takes his seat beside her and opposite me and as the plane taxis to the runway, I wonder what she’ll make of our destination.
It doesn’t take long before we’re airborne, and she surprises me by opening her eyes and fixing me with a cool expression.
“Where are we going?”
I bite back my irritation because for fuck’s sake, doesn’t she understand basic instruction now?
Before I can shoot her down and remind her what I said back there, she shrugs. “I only ask because that was too easy.”
“What was?” Cesare looks up and she shrugs.
“The restaurant. You must have something on my father for him to allow this to happen—whatever this is.”
She waves her hand around the plane, and I catch Cesare’s eye, who is suddenly more alert.
“Perhaps daddy doesn’t want his investments becoming common knowledge.”
“His investments?”
“Arms mainly.”
