Page 61 of Beast

“It’s quite simple,” I begin. “I intend to properly court you here in America. Flowers, romantic dates, the whole nine yards.”

Blake scoffs. “You must be joking. You think you can just swoop in and pretend to be Prince Charming after everything?”

I set my glass down and lean toward her, meeting her gaze directly. “I understand your hesitation. But I’m quite serious. I want to prove to you how deeply I care. I want you to choose me of your own free will, not because I’ve forced you into submission.”

Blake scoffs, shaking her head. “So you’re just going to live in America for as long as it takes? And what happens if I never feel that way.”

I smirk. “You will, that I don’t doubt. And I’m in it for the long haul, however long it takes.”

“If your phone call was anything to go by, it doesn’t sound like you can leave Mexico for the long haul,” she goads.

I stare out the window of the jet, watching the clouds drift by below us. I know it won’t be easy. She’s stubborn as a mule and has plenty of reasons to despise me, but I’m not one to back down from a challenge.

“I don’t know what kind of fantasy you’re living in if you think you can just sweep me off my feet now,” she says.

I meet her gaze. “I don’t expect it to happen quickly. But I’m a patient man. And persistent.”

She rolls her eyes. “Right. Because buying me from captivity in Mexico was just the first step in your grand romantic plan.”

I sigh. “Why don’t we start over?” I suggest. “Pretend we’re meeting for the first time.”

Blake looks incredulous. “Seriously?”

“Humor me,” I say with a small smile, extending my hand out to her.

She’s silent for a moment, then extends her hand tentatively. “Blake.”

I take it in mine. “Gaston. A pleasure.”

We shake.

“See? Not so bad,” I say lightly.

The corner of Blake’s mouth quirks up into an almost smile.

Progress.

I decide not to press further for now. Baby steps. We have a long flight ahead of us. Blake stands and walks over to Alice, whispering something to her. They both get up and head toward the back of the plane, likely to use the restroom.

Every instinct in me wants to follow them, to keep Blake within my line of sight. But I know I need to give her space if I ever hope to gain her trust. So I refrain, taking a sip of whiskey instead.

A moment later, Taren comes over and sits down opposite me. I brace myself for whatever is coming next.

“What happened to make you so soft, Marques?” he asks. “The great and powerful Gaston Marques, chasing after a woman across borders like a love-sick fool.”

I take a slow breath, keeping my voice even. “I wouldn’t exactly call it ‘soft,’“ I reply. “More like tenacious in achieving my goals.”

Taren snorts. “Call it what you want. But I’ve never seen you act this way over a woman. She must really have her claws in you deep.”

My jaw tightens. “Careful, Taren. That’s dangerous talk.”

He holds up his hands. “No offense meant. Just an observation. We’ve known each other a while, no?”

I nod slowly. Taren has been by Illeana’s side for years and I’ve gotten to know him over that time. “People change,” I say with a shrug. “What matters to us shifts.”

Taren appraises me for a moment. “Just don’t lose yourself chasing this girl. She won’t make you happy, not really. A man like you gets bored quickly.”

I meet his gaze evenly. “I appreciate the concern, but I know what I want.”

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