Page 63 of Unwillingly His

The corner of his mouth twitched up just a little.

I would have missed it if I hadn’t been looking so closely.

I had no idea why I was looking so closely. I pushed that aside as he motioned for me to follow him.

I expected to go out the front door, but instead, he took me to a back hallway that I hadn’t been to before and pressed a button for an elevator. I said nothing as I stepped in, my hands folded in front of me, clenching the leather handles of my powder blue Kelly bag.

When the doors opened, we were on the roof, and a helicopter was waiting for us. Its blades were already spinning, sending gusts of wind to tousle my hair.

“Come on,” Lucian said, grabbing my arm. I used my other hand to hold my hat to my head, and we both ducked down under the blades to get in. “Have you ever been in a helicopter before?”

I shook my head, knowing that if I said anything, there was no way he was going to hear me.

He nodded and put a large headset over my head, holding my hat in place as we took off.

The pilot checked in with us once before lifting off and taking us over to New York City.

I had seen videos of other people in helicopters.

I’d even seen clips from YouTube of New York City from drones. They didn’t compare to actually being above the city flying over it.

Yes, I had traveled all over the world, but New York City was my world, and to see it in all of its gleaming glittering glory from a thousand feet in the air was spectacular.

However, that still didn’t take my mind off of whatever could be in that duffel bag. I thought back to every movie I had ever seen and every book that had mentioned duffle bags.

Nothing good was ever in them.

I had seen everything from guns, to heads, to piles of money.

Soon, the gleaming steel towers and crowded roads gave way to lush green fields, and we touched down in front of a sign that said NY Polo Club.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“Patterson, New York. Driving here would take over an hour, and frankly, I don’t have the time,” he said, grabbing the duffel bag and dragging me through the open grass fields to several large white tents.

“Stella, you’re here,” a high-pitched feminine voice called.

I turned just in time to see Charlotte before she threw her arms around me and pulled me into a hug. She smelled of sweet floral perfume and mint.

“I’m here,” I said, still not 100% sure what the hell I was doing there.

“Did you bring the equipment?” Luc said to his father, his arm firmly around Amelia.

Lucian gave his son the bag, and immediately Luc dropped it to the ground and opened it up.

I held my breath.

Inside were several different helmets, knee pads, and what looked like a few polo sticks. Or were they called mallets? I had no idea, but I was extremely relieved there wasn’t a single stack of bound cash, firearms, or a severed head in the bag. At least not that I could see.

I released the tense breath I had been holding.

“Stella,” Lucian snapped harshly, making me think he may have said my name a few times.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Stay here with Charlotte and Amelia.”

“Of course,” I said, giving him a pleasant smile. I didn’t mean it, but it was what was expected of me.

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