Page 84 of Reign

The light paints one side of his face in red, turning him intense and beautiful and deeply, deeply distracting.

Amusement slips into his expression. “I was beginning to think the flight had exhausted that mouth.”

I freeze and stare at him. Then every fragile, sweaty, spiraling part of me catches fire and turns into rage.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

His expression does not change.

Mine absolutely does.

“No, seriously.” I twist toward him as much as the seat belt allows. “You escorted me out of an airport, dismissed my bodyguard, put me in your car, refused to tell me where we’re going, and you’re worried I haven’t been talking enough?”

“I didn’t dismiss him.”

“You separated him from me.”

“He’s with Rafael.”

“That does not make this less alarming.”

“You’re safe.”

I laugh once. Sharp. Humorless. “That is exactly what dangerous men say when they’re doing something alarming.”

“I am a dangerous man, Elena. That doesn’t make me a danger to you.”

The way he says my name does something stupid to the back of my neck. Accent curling around it. Warning tucked inside silk.

I refuse to acknowledge that.

“Are you part of the Sovereigns, or was I just stolen in broad daylight by a man with good bone structure and a God complex?”

A quiet laugh leaves him. Low, brief, and entirely too attractive. It makes me want to hit him with my phone.

“I’m part of the Sovereigns when it benefits me.”

“That was not the comforting answer you think it was.”

The light turns green. He looks away from me and eases the SUV forward, calm as death, like I am not actively unraveling in his passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” I demand.

“You’ll see.”

“No. You don’t get to do the mysterious cartel thing with me. I have brothers. I was raised by men who think a complete sentence is a national security threat. I’m immune to ominous silence.”

“You don’t seem immune.”

“I seem pissed.”

“You seem nervous.”

“I’m pissed and nervous. Women can multitask.”

He smirks.

I hate it. I hate him.