“Why are we here?” She was looking at the long, sleek jet in front of her.
“Uncle Mitch is lending us his jet to get to Vegas quicker.” Ethan kept her moving as she tried to stop walking by placing a hand against her spine. “It’s easier than waiting for a flight, and we may need to use this to get Cooper back to Brook.”
“People lend shoes and jackets, not jets.”
Her voice wasn’t the usual sassy Annabelle; this one was high-pitched and panicked, and Ethan wanted to pick her up and hold her close, telling her it would be okay. He had no idea what state Cooper was going to be in. They’d deal with that when they found him, but Bills had said it wasn’t good.
“My father has a jet, as does my uncle, and most of my relatives. It’s the way it goes when you have as much money as they do.” He urged her up the steps, and inside the plane, where the pilot was waiting.
“Mr. Gelderman, welcome aboard.”
Ethan shook his hand. The other one he kept on Annabelle’s shoulder.
“We’ll be taking off soon, so if you would find your seats and fasten your seatbelts, please.”
Ethan watched Annabelle look around, eyes wide as she took in the soft cream upholstery and expensive fittings, and he wondered just how many more shocks she could take tonight before she broke. In fact, he wanted to hear her yell and curse; he loved that she didn’t have the same filter that others had and simply said exactly what she was feeling. Right now she was contained, thoughts shut off in her head behind that closed expression on her pretty face. Even her movements were controlled and economical, none of the long-limbed grace he was used to.
She found a seat by the window and slid into it. He took the one beside her and they silently clicked their belts into place.
“You going tell me you’re going to die again?” he teased her, hoping she’d respond; instead, she gave him a shake of her head and turned to look out the window.
“The flight will take just over two hours, so maybe you could try to sleep while I make a few calls.”
“Don’t baby me, Ethan. I can handle this, just like I’ve been handling everything for years.”
He was pleased to hear the snap in her tone. Anger was better than the icy chill she’d just used on him.
“On that subject, what did you mean when you said you’d earned money at the tables?”
The plane had taken off and leveled out and she hadn’t even flinched. Ethan took off his belt and stretched out his legs. It had already been a long day and it would be many hours before he actually found a bed, hopefully with this woman lying beside him.
“Nothing,” Annabelle, said still looking out the window.
“Jake told me you were the one who looked after your brothers after your mother died and you’d moved in with your uncle. Supposedly your uncle wasn’t around much, and Jake was never sure how you managed it on the money you got working for his mother.” Ethan kept talking to her, determined to get her to open up, or yell at him; either would be fine with him. “Did you get the extra by gambling?” It was a guess, but by her reaction, he figured it was an accurate one. Her shoulders jerked backwards and she spun to look at him.
“You talked to Jake about me?”
Her glare wasn’t as fierce as some she’d given him, but there was still a fair amount of heat in those brown eyes.
“Yeah, you’re hot and you intrigued me, so I questioned everyone about you,” he said just to irritate her further. If she was arguing with him, she wasn’t worrying about her brother.
“I don’t like people talking about me. It just pisses me off, so don’t do it again.”
It was a foolish conversation, they both knew it, but she needed a distraction and Ethan was happy to supply one.
“Honey, you’re beautiful, and people can’t help but look at you, so it goes without saying that along with that comes the talking part,” he added reasonably.
“I’m not a fucking doll, Gelderman, I’m real.” She slapped a hand on her chest. “Don’t treat me like I’m brainless just because my face is okay.”
“Okay,” Ethan snorted, then followed it up with smile. “Your face is not just okay, it’s goddamned outstanding. There’s this line of your cheekbones…” He touched it, sliding his finger along the edge, and she slapped his hand aside. “Then there’s this one down your nose to the soft pout of your bottom lip.”
“Cut the bullshit, Ethan.”
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” That she didn’t see what others did intrigued him.
“I’m not getting into this with you, so just shut up unless you have something important to say,” she said, turning away from him again.
“It was your legs that I first saw. You were wearing that short pink skirt and I remembered thinking that one day I wanted those wrapped around my waist—”
