The helicopter lifts off the pad and up into the sky. My headset muffles the roaring of the blades and thrum of the engine. Robert focuses on his phone in the seat next to me. Blue sits at my feet, his attention on my face.
I lean over, trying to read Robert’s screen…but it’s not in English. Tricky fucker.
Robert slips the phone into his breast pocket and then settles one of his hands on my thigh. My first instinct is to push it off but…I don’t. I just stare at it. His thumb rubs a gentle circle on my outer thigh while his fingers lay across the inner.
“Robert,” I say, my voice swallowed by the noise of the helicopter. But he turns to me—my message communicated through the headphones. “What is going on?”
“My son has not given up on ending me.” He says it simply, as if it is just a fact of life. One that has driven us from our hotel onto this helicopter. “He has hired mercenaries—we avoided them on the way here, but Brock received intelligence that they discovered our location and were en route to the hotel. Brock requested I not make this journey due to the threat level and I ignored him.” He’s not smiling but there is no tone of regret in his voice.
He’s still wearing his sunglasses so I can’t see his eyes, only the tight set of his mouth, and my own confused expression reflected in the mirrored lens.
“I guess he really wants you dead?” I know the feeling…
“Yes,” he says. There is a slight tick in his jaw but other than that subtle tell, no evidence that being hunted by his own son is upsetting Robert Maxim.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
Robert turns away, his attention on the water below us. “I will deal with him,” he says, his grip tightening on my thigh for a brief moment.
My hand comes to my belly. How could I for one second consider this man as a father for my child…
“Have you spoken to him?” I ask.
“Not since his arrest, no.” Robert turns back to me. “We can discuss this another time,” he says, his head tilting ever so slightly toward Brock as if he does not want him to hear. Which is bullshit. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. Brock knows all of Robert’s business—his job is to keep him safe and he can’t do that blind.
But apparently Robert thinks I can sleep with him, be married to him, and also be kept in the dark.
“So where are we going now?” I ask, attempting to keep the rage welling up inside of me out of my voice.
“I’d like to get you back to the island,” Robert says. “And I’d like to come with you.”
“I don’t know,” I say, which is a lie. I know. I know he is a sly fox and I am not about to invite him into the henhouse. “I’ll have to speak with the council.”
“I’m sure Mulberry will not agree,” Robert says, his grin flashing predatory and dangerous.
“No, I don’t think he trusts you,” I say, my tone droll.
“We have somewhat of an understanding,” Robert says, his hand on me tightening.
“Do you?” I ask, my hackles rising further. I just love when men come to understandings about me without me being involved. I love it almost as much as being kept in the dark. They may be my two favorite things…
Robert pulls his headphones off and reaches out to slip mine down as well. The rush of sound blares. Our microphones no longer near our lips, he leans right into my ear. “Yes,” he says, loud enough for me to hear over the sound of the helicopter. “We both agree you are incredible. And in control. And that we are but your humble servants.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. Robert sits back grinning, slipping his headphones back into place. I pull my own back on, shaking my head.
“Sir,” Brock’s voice comes over the connection. Robert sits up, leaning forward, his gaze on the front windshield. “I see them.”
“You’re sure?” Robert asks.
“It fits the description.”
“Excellent,” Robert says, shifting forward, his hand leaving my leg. Blue’s head lands on my lap, as if he’d been waiting for his spot to free up. His eyes slip closed as I play with one of his ears. I can’t hear Blue’s sigh through the ear protection, but I feel it against my leg.
“It’s four of them, sir,” Brock says, starting to circle the craft below us. I lean over to see out the window on my side. It’s a black speedboat with a snub nose and two big engines on the back. It looks military or police. It’s streaking across an open expanse of sea leaving a frothing line of white wake in the turquoise water.
There are four figures in the boat—wearing ball caps and shirts so tight they don’t flap in the wind. Brock switches channels, then speaks into his microphone, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Must be communicating with his team.
“What’s going on?” I ask Robert as the helicopter banks away.
“We’re letting our men know the location of the boat so that they can be handled.”
“So where are we going now, then?”
“Back to the yacht, though we’ll track the boat until our men show up.”
“I’m so confused. I thought we had to evacuate the whole area.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary now that we’ve located them. We will eliminate the threat and then continue our vacation.”
“We?” I question.
Robert shakes his head. “You won’t have to kill anyone, baby.”
“I’m deadly serious about that endearment, Robert. Do not call me baby.”
He grins, taking off his sunglasses so I can see the playfulness in his gaze. Robert raises one brow and my lips tighten to suppress the smile trying to escape my stern expression. “Darling?”
“No,” I answer quickly.
“Honey?”
“I am not sweet.”
“But you didn’t mind sweetheart?”
“I do. And I did. But you’re exhausting.”
“So you’ll accept sweetheart?”
“No.”
“Buttercup?”
I cough out another laugh against my will. Robert’s smile grows into something almost boyish. “How about love?” His voice drops an octave into something more serious, not so much teasing as testing. “My love.”
Our gazes meet and there is no humor in his now. The crinkles around his eyes settle and the dangerous blue-green depth of them seems to call to me. Begging me to see him…or to admit, finally, that I can see him. And that he…sees me.
My head shakes a no, my body answering for me. I’m not ready for that. Because that would mean…I couldn’t keep pushing him away if we saw each other. If we were no longer playing chess and instead were actually trying to be together. That…wouldn’t work for me.
My son shifts inside of me, reminding me in his own subtle way that what’s worked in the past won’t work in the future. I drop my eyes, the coward in me pulling my gaze to Blue’s head in my lap.
“Sir,” Brock’s voice comes back online. “Our team is en route.”
“Excellent,” Robert says. “My wife and I are eager to return to our vacation.”
I glance up to see Brock’s jaw tighten—I wonder how he feels about this romantic, tropical idyll while there are mercenaries afoot.
The helicopter banks hard and I tip against Robert. His hands come around my waist to steady me. All I can see out the window next to Robert is the too-close sea.
I force myself to take a slow, deep breath. We are not crashing. This is just how Brock flies helicopters. Badly. But then I see the black speedboat and I realize why Brock pulled that stunt. The fuckers are shooting at us. I can’t hear the discharge of weapons because of the ear protection, noise of the helicopter, and distance, but I know what it looks like when a giant freaking machine gun is mounted on a speedboat and aimed at me.
The helicopter climbs, gaining altitude and distance from the mercenaries. We pass through a cloud and are surrounded in wispy white. “Our men have engaged them,” Brock says in my headset.
“Let’s return to The Sensation,” Robert says.
“The what?” I ask.
“It’s the name of the yacht,” Robert explains. Of course it is.
We pass through the cloud and the sea is visible far below us again. Two little black boats spit fire at each other. Men are dying—fighting a war they have no stake in beyond a paycheck. Yet lives will be lost because of it.
If that isn’t fucked up, I don’t know what is.