A tickle of unease raises the hair on the back of my neck. What if this is all a setup—what if Robert is faking this to get me isolated?
We reach the helicopter pad and Robert opens the back door for me while Brock loads black and silver gun cases in from the other side. Blue’s wet nose swipes my fingers.
The interior of the helicopter is dark black leather and gleaming chrome—it matches the freaking yacht and the weapon cases. My gaze meets my own in the reflection in Robert’s glasses. “What is going on?” I ask yet again, not getting in the helicopter.
Robert’s mouth straightens and he closes the narrow distance between us, his hand landing on my hip. He leans close, bringing his lips almost to my hair. “Do you think anything but fear for your life would have pulled me from the sea, Sydney?” His voice is a calm deep rumble against the shell of my ear. “With you naked in my arms. Is there anything I have wanted more in my life?” His voice rasps on that last part and it sends a shiver over my skin.
I shake my head, words failing.
“Good. Now get in the fucking helicopter, Mrs. Maxim.”
Turning my face so that our lips almost brush, I smile. “It’s Sydney Motherfucking Rye.”
Our mouths so close. The sun so hot. Danger swirling in the air. This is so fucking us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The helicopter lifts off the pad and up into the sky. My headset muffles the roaring of the blades and thrum of the engine. Robert focuses on his phone in the seat next to me. Blue sits at my feet, his attention on my face.
I lean over, trying to read Robert’s screen…but it’s not in English. Tricky fucker.
Robert slips the phone into his breast pocket and then settles one of his hands on my thigh. My first instinct is to push it off but…I don’t. I just stare at it. His thumb rubs a gentle circle on my outer thigh while his fingers lay across the inner.
“Robert,” I say, my voice swallowed by the noise of the helicopter. But he turns to me—my message communicated through the headphones. “What is going on?”
“My son has not given up on ending me.” He says it simply, as if it is just a fact of life. One that has driven us from our hotel onto this helicopter. “He has hired mercenaries—we avoided them on the way here, but Brock received intelligence that they discovered our location and were en route to the hotel. Brock requested I not make this journey due to the threat level and I ignored him.” He’s not smiling but there is no tone of regret in his voice.
He’s still wearing his sunglasses so I can’t see his eyes, only the tight set of his mouth, and my own confused expression reflected in the mirrored lens.
“I guess he really wants you dead?” I know the feeling…
“Yes,” he says. There is a slight tick in his jaw but other than that subtle tell, no evidence that being hunted by his own son is upsetting Robert Maxim.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
Robert turns away, his attention on the water below us. “I will deal with him,” he says, his grip tightening on my thigh for a brief moment.
My hand comes to my belly. How could I for one second consider this man as a father for my child…
“Have you spoken to him?” I ask.
“Not since his arrest, no.” Robert turns back to me. “We can discuss this another time,” he says, his head tilting ever so slightly toward Brock as if he does not want him to hear. Which is bullshit. He just doesn’t want to talk about it. Brock knows all of Robert’s business—his job is to keep him safe and he can’t do that blind.
But apparently Robert thinks I can sleep with him, be married to him, and also be kept in the dark.
“So where are we going now?” I ask, attempting to keep the rage welling up inside of me out of my voice.
“I’d like to get you back to the island,” Robert says. “And I’d like to come with you.”
“I don’t know,” I say, which is a lie. I know. I know he is a sly fox and I am not about to invite him into the henhouse. “I’ll have to speak with the council.”
“I’m sure Mulberry will not agree,” Robert says, his grin flashing predatory and dangerous.
“No, I don’t think he trusts you,” I say, my tone droll.
“We have somewhat of an understanding,” Robert says, his hand on me tightening.
“Do you?” I ask, my hackles rising further. I just love when men come to understandings about me without me being involved. I love it almost as much as being kept in the dark. They may be my two favorite things…
Robert pulls his headphones off and reaches out to slip mine down as well. The rush of sound blares. Our microphones no longer near our lips, he leans right into my ear. “Yes,” he says, loud enough for me to hear over the sound of the helicopter. “We both agree you are incredible. And in control. And that we are but your humble servants.”
I can’t help the laugh that bursts out of me. Robert sits back grinning, slipping his headphones back into place. I pull my own back on, shaking my head.
“Sir,” Brock’s voice comes over the connection. Robert sits up, leaning forward, his gaze on the front windshield. “I see them.”
“You’re sure?” Robert asks.
“It fits the description.”
“Excellent,” Robert says, shifting forward, his hand leaving my leg. Blue’s head lands on my lap, as if he’d been waiting for his spot to free up. His eyes slip closed as I play with one of his ears. I can’t hear Blue’s sigh through the ear protection, but I feel it against my leg.
“It’s four of them, sir,” Brock says, starting to circle the craft below us. I lean over to see out the window on my side. It’s a black speedboat with a snub nose and two big engines on the back. It looks military or police. It’s streaking across an open expanse of sea leaving a frothing line of white wake in the turquoise water.
There are four figures in the boat—wearing ball caps and shirts so tight they don’t flap in the wind. Brock switches channels, then speaks into his microphone, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. Must be communicating with his team.
“What’s going on?” I ask Robert as the helicopter banks away.
