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She is my everything.
I undo her seat belt, and she climbs into my arms while I cling to her. I let her sob, my own eyes closing, until she calms.
When I lift my lids, Mack is watching us. He gives me a brief nod, and his eyes dart toward the rear of the plane. I know what he’s telling me, and it’s a good fucking idea.
“I’ll check to see if there’s any damage,” Mack says, heading towards the cockpit. “Nate, you’re making dinner.”
“Cheese and crackers it is.” Nathan nods and tugs up his sleeves like he’s about to prepare a three-course meal.
He shoots me a wink.
They’re giving us space and I appreciate it.
––––––––
IPLACE ISABELLE downon the bed and kick the door closed behind me.
She glances around, surprised, and I hold my hands up.
“Not what it looks like. I thought you might like a shower and to get some sleep. It’s a good ten-hour flight back to JFK.”
“What?” Isabelle asks, then frowns as she gets my meaning. “No, I just had no idea there were bedrooms on private jets.”
I place a hand on the wall as light turbulence moves us around. “On Connor’s jet there is.”
She smiles. “We’re going home.”
“Yeah, darlin’,” I say, taking in her state. A bruise on her cheekbone is swelling and her clothes are rumpled. Her face is stained with tears, her eyes blotchy, and her hair matted. I want to turn back the plane and kill every single one of them.
This isn’t entirely over for Isabelle.
Pablo knows who she is and may seek her out. We’ll deal with that when we return to American soil and provide her with full security.
If I have my way, it will be in my arms twenty-four-seven. However, one step at a time.
“There should be soap and shampoo, etc., in there.” I pull open a sliding door to show her the small shower and bathroom. “Our bags are out there, so I’ll bring them in while you bathe.”
“Okay.” She climbs off the bed and when I turn to the door, I feel her tiny hand take mine. I freeze, pressing my eyes closed.
“Izzy.”
“Decker, please—”
My mouth is on hers before the last syllable is out. I hope like fuck, this is what she wanted because I’m not sure I can stop.
When notes of mint and strawberry hit me, it’s like coming home. The feel of her small, vulnerable body against mine makes me feel like Superman. I move her, pressing her against the wall and lean into her.
“Sorry,” I lie.
“Kiss me again,” Isabelle pants.
I gaze down at her, a trillion hormones racing through me as my heart thumps and my cock throbs. “I can’t. I won’t be able to stop.”
“Then don’t,” she says.
“Izzy, you don’t know—”what you are saying.
“I nearly died. I nearlydied, Deck. Please. I need you. I want you. I wantthis.”
