“That what you chose for the trip?” I ask.
Her mouth curves. Not sweetly. “Do you hate it?”
“Yes.”
The smile deepens. “Then it was an excellent choice.”
She moves toward the front door, and I step aside to let her pass. The skirt brushes my trouser leg in the narrow space between us. A whisper of fabric. Barely anything. It still feels like a dare.
Outside, the evening air makes her shiver, but it’s the two cars that make her pause.
“Why are there two cars?”
“I’m being cautious.”
Her brows rise. “How dramatic.”
I open the door to the car Cesaro isn’t driving and motion for her to slide inside. She does and goes as far from me as she can. I purposely sit closer than I need.
The first car takes off followed by five men on motorcycles. A moment later ours does the same.
“Armed guards?”
“Yes.”
She tips her head. “Do I get my own set of handcuffs, or are we skipping straight to the kidnapping aesthetic this morning?”
“Have a kidnapping fetish, eh?” I let my gaze travel over her, slow enough to be insulting. “Because the dress and the mouth are sending very mixed messages.”
Color rises at her throat.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet you wore that in front of me.”
She opens her mouth, then shuts it. Because we both know I’m right. Not about why. Maybe not even about what it means. But right that the dress is not accidental. Not after the boutique. Not after the way I looked at her in those mirrors. Not after she saw exactly what it did to me.
She looks away first.
“Save your energy, Birdie,” I say. “It’s going to be a long flight.”
I could try to entertain her as we go to the airport, but I don’t. Instead, I pull out my phone and get to work. There’s a penthouse near the building I own that I’ve been looking at ever since the thought of bringing Elizabeth home crossed my mind. It’s private, new, and won’t have ghosts of our past haunting it.
I put in a bid that I know no one will be able to outdo.
Then I get to work on seeing what Russo has been up to. He’s been gathering information for me, which is to be expected, and has even reached out to the local crime families in London. Too bad I already beat him to it. He won’t get anywhere, and even if he does, we’ll already be gone.
The SUV slows as we enter the grounds of Heathrow Airport.
Elizabeth turns to me. “I thought we were taking your jet?”
“Think you’re too good to fly commercial?” I wait a beat. “My jet is being watched.”
Understanding flashes in her eyes. “You were afraid Dante would know we were leaving and save me.”
Save me.
Those two words should not get under my skin. They do anyway.
