Page 35 of Tempting God

“I’ll be out in a moment.”

I wash my hands, splashing water on my face. There’s no hiding the fact that I’ve been crying. Using a paper towel, I dab my skin, drying the water. At least I don’t have on those disgusting panties anymore. They went into the trashcan the moment I entered the bathroom, and then I wiped away as much of Grant Carter as I could. It’s not enough. I meet my gaze again. It’s never going to be enough. Now that I’ve had him again, I fear I’m ruined.

Opening the door, I find the same flight attendant who gave Grant the club soda earlier.

“Sometimes I get a bit sick when I fly,” I lie.

“I understand. Would you like a ginger ale?”

“Yes, please. And maybe some crackers.”

“Of course.”

I return to my seat, keeping my gaze downcast. Grant moves, so I can enter our row. Once seated, I dig out the small blanket located in the armrest of the seat and cover my lap with it. The flight attendant returns with the ginger ale, crackers, and a paper vomit bag.

“Thank you,” I say weakly.

She nods, moving to help another passenger.

My stomach really does feel unsettled, so I open the can and take a sip of the ginger ale.

Grant shifts next to me, scrolling on his phone. For a moment, I think he’s going to say something. When he doesn’t, I reach for my bag, pulling out my phone and earbuds.

Screw Grant Carter.

The plane finally lands in Las Vegas an hour later. The landing is bumpy and does nothing to help my stomach. When it’s safe, Grant exits the row, pulling his carry-on from the overhead storage. He glances at me before pulling mine down, too.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He hesitates. “How are you getting to Moretti’s?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

He steps aside so I can enter the aisle. Grabbing the handle of my bag, I hurry off the plane. He’s right behind me. I can feel the heat from his body as we walk. I expect him to back off, especially when someone calls out his name. But he doesn’t. No, he follows me to the bathroom, waiting until I come out. Then he follows me to the lower level to the baggage claim.

I spin to face him when he follows me outside.

“What are you doing?”

“Walking.” He gestures. “Hurry along. I’m sure your car is waiting.”

My gaze narrows. “How do you know I have a car?”

“Charles informed me. Since we’re both staying at the same hotel, he suggested that we share a ride.”

My jaw hurts from gritting my teeth together. Freaking Charles! That must be who Grant was texting during the flight!

The black sedan pulls up, and a man in a black suit gets out.

“Good afternoon, Brother Carter.” He dips his head at Grant and then at me. “Ms. Blanc.”

Great. Not only is my ride getting hijacked, but the driver is in the Brotherhood.

He opens the door, gesturing for me to slide in. I have half a mind to order an Uber, but I know I’m running out of time. So, I slide in. When Grant gets in, I move away as far as I can. It’s not far enough, though. It’ll never be far enough.

The ride is silent as we go to the hotel. The moment I’m able, I get out of the car and head through the revolving doors. Even though the Brotherhood owns this hotel, it’s still one of my favorites in the world.

I’m smiling as I go to the check-in counter.

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