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He emerged into the bedroom and tossed my toiletries bag onto the bed. “Wear something comfortable. Jeans or something. And bring a scarf to wear around your head.”
I stopped, frightened almost to tears by his urgency, and turned to him. “Duran, what is going on? You’re scaring me.”
His dark eyes fell on me and his hard edges softened and he was beside me in a moment. Strong arms slid around me and pulled me against his chest, enveloping me in warmth.
“The Russians attacked and they have a hostage, princess, but I’m handling it. Your family isn’t safe, least of all you. Lucien is taking them to a safe house, but he’s concerned they’ll want you most because of me.”
My throat went dry and my heart fluttering like a bird against my ribs. “Where is my family?”
“Trust me, Lucien will keep them safe. But in case either you or they are captured, you can’t know the other’s location. So just trust me for right now.”
“But why am I in the most danger?”
His mouth pressed together and he picked up my suitcase and hauled it to the door. “Because of me. They’ll try and use you to get at me.”
I finished dressing in jeans and a white t-shirt and wound a silk scarf around my neck. “Why would you care if they captured me? I don’t know anything.”
He jerked the door open and paused, his head bowed and his shoulders tense. Then he turned, running his hand through his hair, and his gaze met mine, bubbling with turmoil. “Because I fucking care, princess. That’s what you want to hear, right? I thought you’d be a fun time when I picked you up at the resort and now I fucking care. Now can we please go?”
I was speechless, my heart thumping in a completely different way now. He gathered my bags and seized me by the elbow, dragging me out into the hall. I followed him, running to keep up with his long legs as he ushered me down the stairs and out into the empty hall. Lucien and Olivia must have already left because the mansion was deserted.
There was a black SUV in the driveway and Duran opened the door, helping me climb onto the leather seats. There was a strange material on the ceiling and insides of the doors and it took me a moment to realize it was bulletproof paneling. I shivered and pushed myself further into the car, pressing up against the opposite wall. Duran finished loading up my bags and slid in beside me. He hit a button and the wall panel separating us from the driver slid down.
“Get us to the airstrip,” he said.
The driver took off, the driveway and the mansion disappearing behind us until it was enveloped by the gates. We drove down the secluded lane for several miles, Duran leaning back in his seat with his face impassive. When he shifted I saw a pistol strapped to his side, glinting black steel against his thigh. The sight sent a shiver through me and I draped my inner elbow over my eye to block everything out.
“Not too much further,” he murmured.
I squeezed my eyes shut even though my vision was already blocked and kept still. After several minutes, I felt the vehicle slow and come to a stop and I sat up and looked around.
We were in a field encircled by a distant treeline and there was a private plane parked on a concrete runway. Duran got to his feet at once, jumping from the car and flinging open the trunk to get my bags out. Then he came around and took my hand, weaving his fingers through mine, and made for the plane at a fast clip. I struggled to keep up with him, stumbling a few times on loose stones.
He handed the bags over to a man waiting by the stairs and put his hand on the small of my back, guiding me up the steps. The touch sent a wave of relief through me, as though my body was agreeing to trust him of its own accord. Perhaps it was; after all, it was beginning to know his touch. It was beginning to look forward to the sight of him, the feel of his palms on my skin, the taste of his mouth on mine.
The plane was empty save three security guards. Duran moved me down the short aisle and into a private room in the back. There was a bottle of sparkling water and a bucket of ice on the center table. I moved across the room and ducked to look out at the window just as the doors closed and we took off down the runway.
Duran sat down and I lingered by the window, too anxious to sit still. He reached underneath the table and opened a drawer and took out a crystal bottle of whiskey and a glass. I watched, wondering how he could behave so normally after everything that had just happened. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to dissolve into tears, and watched him pour a drink and lean back in his seat, casually crossing his legs.
“What’s your poison?” he said.
I lost it, a hiccuping sob rising in my throat and erupting in a strangled sound. He was on his feet in an instant, his hands on my waist, drawing me against his chest. There was a gentle rumbling in his chest and I knew he was humming as he rocked me back and forth.
“I know what I’m doing, princess,” he said. “And, swear to God, we will keep your family safe. Don’t worry your head about them for an instant. It’s you we need to focus our attention on so we can keep you safe. And that’s what we’re doing right now. Okay?”
I sniffed, wiping my eyes. There was a wet stain on the front of his shirt and I attempted to rub it out with my knuckle. “Okay,” I agreed.
“You need a drink,” he said.
I sank into the chair opposite his. “Honestly, I haven’t had breakfast or coffee. I’m not feeling a drink right now.”
“Oh, how about some iced coffee and something to eat,” he asked.
I nodded and he rose, leaning out the door to speak briefly with someone on the other side. In a few moments, he stepped back inside with a tray in hand and laid it before me on the table. There was an iced coffee with cream and a ham and cheese sandwich on a croissant. My stomach rumbled in response and I took a sip of the coffee and curled up in my seat with the sandwich in hand.
“Can I know where we’re going at least?” I asked.
He dragged his eyes from his phone. “Cairo.”
