He never spares me a look unless he wants something.
Then his gaze shifts to Keira, and something in my chest tightens.
That's different too.
I've been studying this man for weeks. I know his rhythms, his tells—the way his shoulders set when he's irritated versus when he's calculating. Right now, he's neither.
He's watching.
Maybe I'm being paranoid. We're so close to the finish line that every shadow looks like a threat.
I shake off the feeling and climb into the SUV.
The private airfieldis twenty minutes out.
Calder's Gulfstream waits on the tarmac, gleaming white against the gray sky. Sixty-five million dollars of engineered luxury, capable of crossing oceans without refueling.
I have two in New York. His doesn't impress me.
I do a sweep of the exterior while the others board, but my attention keeps drifting to the stairs, where Keira is guiding Hale up with one hand on his small back.
She doesn't look at me.
I know she can't.
But I see her fingers flex against his jacket. She traces a heart into the fabric.
She did that for me, knowing I'm watching.
I wonder if she feels it too—this constant pull between us. Thisawareness that hums beneath my skin like a live wire, even when she's nowhere near me.
I board last, taking my position at the rear of the cabin.
The interior is predictably excessive. Cream leather arranged in clusters, mahogany accents, a full bar with staff. It could easily accommodate a dozen passengers, but today there are only six of us.
Calder. Keira. Hale. The nanny. Marchand. Me.
Calder settles into a seat near the front, laptop already open. Keira and Hale take the couch across from him. My son immediately reaches for the tablet the nanny produces.
The engines hum to life. The plane begins to taxi.
And the next several hours become an exercise in controlled torture.
Why didshe have to sitthere?
I can't stop looking over at her.
Every time she shifts position, I notice. Every time she laughs at something Hale says, the sound cuts through me. Every time Calder glances in her direction, I have to consciously unclench my jaw.
I've got a fucking headache from the tension coiled at the base of my skull.
I want to cross the cabin and pull her into my lap. Want to feel her weight against me, smell her hair, taste her mouth. Want to take her to the back of this plane and make her scream until she loses her voice.
Instead, I stare at security protocols on my phone for the tenth time and pretend I can't feel her presence like a gravitational force warping everything around it.
Two hours in, the nanny is drifting off. Hale gets comfortable on Keira's lap, showing her something on his tablet. She's got anunguarded smile on her face as she wraps her arms around him, resting her chin on top of his head.
My family.
