Griffin gave a deep grunt. “Definitely time to vacate the premises.”
“Yesterday.”
* * *
Private Jet Over Northern Virginia
It was too much to believe. Amid throbbing pain in her ribs and a burn in her lungs, Kasra was on a plane for a nine-hour flight from Germany to America. Thankfully, the plane had room for her to lie down as being upright wracked her back. The men flying with them were the same ones who had been there when Range killed the captain.
There was such relief in her breast that she had thought her lung was torn again because she could not breathe. She wished she could say she had not willed death on that man, but it would not be true. Still, she did regret the loss of life. At least he could no longer torment her or Atia. Her daughter would not have to grow up under the shadow of such a man.
On the flight, she watched Range interact with Atia and take care of them both. Once Atia had fallen asleep, he shifted onto a seat near where Kasra reclined and smirked. “Making me do all the hard work, huh?”
“It is a good change.”
He chuckled. “I’d say that’s mean, but maybe you’re right.”
She gave him a warning look. “You are being nice again.”
His expression slipped. Those blue eyes considered her. “It’s—”
“Nice.”
He faltered. A smile pinched the corner of his eyes. “I’m glad to hear you say that.” He took her hand. Eyes still on her, he kissed it. “Because I plan to be nice a lot from now on.” Angling in closer, he had an intent expression. “Remember on the ship when you got mad at me?”
She winced.
“What I wanted to say then that I struggled to say … It seemed unreal to me …”
“You said the pretty girls did not fall for you, but you were wrong.”
He smirked. “Good, because I think—no.” He cocked his head. “IknowI’m falling in love with you.”
Her heart did this little pitter patter that she had never felt before. A blossom of hope, a promise of love. “I never dreamed this could happen.”
“Same.” He leaned over and kissed her.
“Beginning descent into Dulles. Prepare for landing,” the captain droned over the intercom.
When they landed, two SUVs were waiting that delivered them to a large hotel that they called a lodge. There were trees, a pool, mountains with snow-capped peaks. “It is beautiful.”
A broad-shouldered man in a cowboy hat—must be his brother Stone—waited as the vehicles pulled to a stop in front of him, where he stood with his arm wrapped around a woman who was pregnant. Beside them was an older woman with a warm smile.
“Spey,spey!” Atia exclaimed, her toes stretching as she tried to push herself up to see over the window sill.
A dog? Where?
Sure enough, a large black dog trotted across the grass and sat beside the cowboy.
“His name is Grief,” Range said in Pashto.
“What a strange name for a dog,” Kasra said quietly, the effort to talk still painful. And an odd thing happened in her chest as she took in the scene. Realized … this was Range’s family. His mother, brothers, sister-in-law … Though this lodge was not his home, he was home.
Home.
She had neither a home nor a family.
“Wait here,” he said over his shoulder to Kasra. “I need to find out the most direct route to your room.” He and Canyon climbed out of the truck.
