Watching him, she wondered if his side was hurting him. He didn’t indicate that it was. Though she had seen it when he opened the closet door, it wasn’t until they were in the car that she looked more closely at it. It covered him from his armpit to midway down his stomach. Then across a few inches with a single wrap that went around his body.
When he had said he was shot, all she saw was Brian dying in that hospital bed from a gunshot to the chest. Now Zachary had been shot there, too, and it had scared her that she could have lost him from her life and that she wouldn’t have known for days, maybe weeks, maybe ever.
Just as quickly as he ran in, she saw him running out. Though the distance was far, he wasn’t winded when he climbed back in the car. His fly was all buttoned up now—she hadn’t even noticed he had done it up. It was a little sad that she would not be able to see the peak of black underwear anymore.
Smiling, he handed her the bag. He seemed so proud of himself and his success in his mission. Looking in the bag, she pulled out a light blue sweatshirt. It was exactly what she wanted, except the color. She never wore blue. She slipped it over her head, and when she pulled her hair out from underneath it, she saw he was watching her. He quickly turned away, but not before she noticed the look of desire in his brown eyes. She had never seen that look on his face before, but she really liked it.
It wasn’t until they got to the airport that she remembered she did not have her purse or her ID. There was no way she would be allowed on a plane.
“Zachary, I have no ID,” she reminded him as he parked the car.
She watched as he pulled up his pants leg and pulled a gun out from a holster there. Sitting up, he said, “In the glove box.”
Inside were three cards: two credit cards and her driver’s license, except her name wasn’t on any of them. “These are wrong, Zachary.”
“For this week, honey, we are married. You are Zephyr Wainwright, and we are newlyweds,” he replied, putting the gun in a case in the backseat.
Her mouth went dry as she looked at the three cards. Wainwright. Married. Married to Zachary.
“I-I don’t know if it will work.”
Zachary stopped and took her chin in his hand. “All marriages have problems, Zephyr. I think we can make ours work.” Then he kissed the tip of her nose and got out of the car.
She sat there a moment, stunned, then pushed her way out of the car. “Not what I meant, Zachary. We don’t get along.”
“After last night, I plan on sticking closer to you then a husband would. It’s only for a week, remember?” He lifted his bag out of the back seat.
“What about the credit cards? Are they fake?” she asked, following him. She clenched her computer to her chest while sliding the cards into the pocket of her sweatpants.
“Honey, those are real. We hooked them to your bank account,” he answered as they walked across the sunny parking lot towards the building.
“I thought you talked to Ken yesterday about this. How did you get these done? Stop running! I can’t keep up.” It was only then that he slowed to a pace she could keep up with.
“I’m a cop. I have my ways.” He put his arm around her shoulder.
“But that’s what my real license looks like, except the name.”
“It is as real as they come, honey. Now stop talking about it.” He pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, “You’re supposed to be in love with me.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say she was in love with him, but she bit it back and stuffed it deep inside her. That would never get out.
CHAPTER 6
They had breezed through security and check-in with one checked bag and one carry-on. Once they had sat on the plane, he was happy to find out Travis had booked them in first class. The seats were big and comfortable, but farther apart than they had been in the car for the last couple of hours. She felt miles from him instead of just a foot or so.
The moment she had sat down, she had put on her seatbelt and clutched that laptop. How long could she do that? But then again, every time she wasn’t holding it in front of those glorious breasts, they were all his eyes could see. When she had pulled on the sweatshirt with her arms in the air, her shirt had ridden up enough that he saw a strip of skin between the top of her pants and the bottom of her shirt. His hands itched to touch the skin, then slide up to cup those beauties. Her nipples had made enough appearances that he wanted nothing but to see if they felt as good as they looked.
Before boarding, they had slipped into a gift shop and had bought snacks, and he had picked up a book for the trip. Every book she had released had been in the shop, and she hadn’t even glanced at them. Maybe she didn’t notice. Or did she not care?
“Are you going to write on the flight?”
“I don’t know.” She sat in the aisle but looked out the tiny window.
“Do you want me to put the computer in my bag?” he asked, pointing to his bag.
“No.” She was still clenching the computer to her chest and looking past him out the window.
“You have to put it down when we take off,” he informed her.