For a moment, even surrounded by Italian marble and Egyptian cotton, it feels like this could be ordinary.Normal.
If normal included private planes and mafia connections and the constant underlying knowledge that Eva’s world is built on violence and fear.
But lying here in the dark, listening to her breathe, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest, I let myself pretend for just a moment that normal is possible.
I let myselfhope, despite it all.
Chapter 19
Eva
The private jet hums through the sky. I should be focused on the approach to Vegas. I can use this opportunity to meet with the Colombos again, assure them of my commitment. Ishouldbe planning that meeting.
Instead, I’m hyperaware of Robin sitting across from me.
She’s curled up in her seat, legs tucked beneath her, pretending to read some paperback she picked up in the airport. But I can see the tension in her shoulders, the way her fingers grip the book’s spine too tightly.
Rome changed something in me. The way she looked at the Colosseum with such wonder. The tears in her eyes when I told her we were going to Vegas. The realization that I would rearrange my entire schedule just to see her smile.
Dangerous territory.
I force myself to stare out the window. But my gaze keeps drifting back to her. The soft curve of her mouth. The way her strawberry blonde hair curls over her ear. The rise and fall of her chest beneath that simple white blouse.
The plane hits a pocket of turbulence, and Robin gasps, her book sliding to the floor with a soft thud. Her knuckles go white as she grips the armrests, and those blue eyes flash to mine—wide, startled, but trusting.
That trust hits me hard. Have I earned it from her?
Have I finally made up for all those terrible things I said to her when I lashed out, hurt her, made her hate me?
The plane steadies almost immediately, but Robin’s breathing is still quick and shallow. She’s never really gotten used to the occasional turbulence, has always been a nervous flier ever since the first time I spirited her away from Las Vegas. Without thinking, I unbuckle my seatbelt and stand.
“You’re scared,” I murmur, crossing to her.
I slide onto the seat beside her, my thigh pressing against hers through the soft fabric of her skirt. The contact sends heat spiraling through me. I reach up and cup her jaw with one hand, tilting her face toward mine.
“Eva—” she starts, but I silence her with my thumb against her lower lip.
“Shh.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. “Let me take care of you.”
The first kiss is slow, exploratory. I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue until she sighs and opens for me. For a moment she melts into me, soft and pliant. Then her hands fist in my collar, dragging me closer with a desperate hunger that matches my own.
The second kiss is harder, hungrier. I press her back against the seat as our teeth clash, tongues tangling in a battle fordominance that she surrenders with a moan that makes my clit throb. Her lips are already pinking up, her breath quick and harsh.
My hands seem to move of their own accord, skimming down her throat, feeling her pulse flutter beneath my fingertips. I pull off her top, yank down her bra to get at those perfect tits, nipples already hard for me. My thumbs brush over them, making her shiver.
I dip my head to pull one tight peak into my mouth. She gasps, arching her back, and I reward her with a gentle bite, just hard enough to make her squirm.
Her hands fumble with my jacket, pushing it off my shoulders. I shrug it off and toss it aside carelessly—something I never do. Everything about Robin makes me forget my own rules.
Her fingers tug at my silk blouse, sliding underneath to trace the taut muscles of my stomach. I suck in a sharp breath at the contact. Her touch is gentle but insistent, exploring me like I’m something precious she’s afraid to break.
And then she climbs into my lap.
The shift in power sends electricity through my veins. Robin straddles my thighs, her dress bunching up around her hips, and suddenly I’m the one struggling to maintain control. She looks down at me with those blue eyes, and I can only smile at her.
And when she leans down to kiss me again, her strawberry blonde hair creating a curtain around our faces, I know the truth I’ve been trying to ignore.
She matters more than anything has mattered in years.
