Page 91 of The Art of You

My mind was racing faster than my heart as the reality of what we were up against slammed into me. “You shouldn’t come,” I told Bella.

“That sounded like a statement, not a question.” She reached for my hand. “I’m going to pretend you were asking me, though, and my answer hasn’t changed. If you’re going to Spain, so am I.”

I closed my eyes, feeling like I was being pulled in twodifferent directions. And for the first time, my gut wasn’t talking to me. I didn’t know what to do.

“We didn’t formally meet last time.” A deep voice pulled my attention to the man in the doorway. He walked farther into the room and offered his hand to Alessandro first since he was the closest. “Roman Riviera.” He looked to me next, as if sensing I was a fellow Teamguy. “How can I help?”

Chapter 34

Isabella

In the Air

Now I knewwhy Bianca used to say she’d rather edit the “garbage” she wrote the day before than have to stare at nothingness the next morning. Blank pages were the worst.

If I eyeballed the sketchpad any longer, maybe I’d hallucinate something to appear on paper. I wasn’t sure what made me think that after fourteen years of being unable to draw, I’d magically be able to start up on a semi-bumpy flight aboard our family’s plane.

The jet was a commercial airliner before my father purchased it and outfitted it into a motorhome for the skies. The space and luxury it provided definitely had its perks. Maybe a nap in the bedroom was a better idea than the staring contest I was having with the blank page.

I set the sketchpad on the empty seat next to me and went to unbuckle, but the order, “Don’t,” from a deep voice off to my side, stopped my attempt, freezing my hands in place. “Turbulence. Stay seated.”

From my peripheral view, I spied Hudson in the aisle next to me. I lifted my chin, allowing my gaze to take a nice, slow journey up his body before landing on the blue sapphires pinning me with a hard, broody look.

I let go of the belt, obeying, but couldn’t stop myself from pointing out, “And yet, you’re standing.”

“I’m twice your weight.” He parked a palm on the top of my seat and dipped his head to meet my eyes. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Oh, but I will anyway, and you know it.” I wasn’t sure if I’d mouthed those words or they got lost in the ambient airplane noise.

A quick smile dusted across his lips, one that managed to hit his eyes. I’d consider that a win. He’d been living in broody central since we’d left New York.

The man was a deep thinker, probably even more than I was, and it was clear there was a lot wreaking havoc in his mind.

As he continued to quietly study me like I was an abstract painting that didn’t make sense, I mentally went through the list ofwhyshe’d become a grump since leaving our office, checking off each one.

For starters, he was stressed about this whole mess, particularly after hearing Seth Maverick’s confession.Totally reasonable.

Secondly, I was on the plane with him heading into an unknown situation that could be full of metaphorical or even real minefields. Still a coin toss if his old teammate was on our side or not. Hudson had one hopeful theory he’d asked Falcon Falls to look into—about Alfie being a spy—and sadly, it didn’t pan out.

Thirdly, we received two semi-disturbing phone calls en route to JFK.

And finally, I couldn’t help but wonder if he regretted his joke about my birth control, realizing how forever-like that sounded.

The next bump in the sky knocked my head back to the present, and provided evidence that Hudson being over two hundred pounds didn’t stop gravity from doing its thing. The jolt knocked him sideways, his momentum propelling him around in front of me as his hands scrambled for purchase on the back of my seat. His legs settled on each side of mine as he stood there, anchoring himself in place and forcing me to pin my knees together.

If my brothers weren’t somewhere on board, I’d tease him to have a seat on my lap so I could keep him safe from the forces of physics he’d tried to deny.Who am I kidding?The man was all muscle and would crush me.

The next few little dips down in the sky sent my stomach right along with them. And yet, Hudson remained a statue of stubbornness in front of me. Definitely not a bad view. I tracked the veins in his arm up to his bicep before following along the strong curve of muscle to his broad shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stealing the line I’d planned to toss his way.

“You mean, am I concerned that, according to Jesse—who learned from the freaking President himself—that our Central Intelligence Agency has been compromised from the inside?” The aforementioned phone call number one. “Ordisappointed your father blames us for him winding up in Splitsville with the ambassador, deciding to go for round two of being a jerk to you all in the same day?” And that had been the second call we were graced with en route to JFK.

That snark in my tone was meant for all the assholes causing us these headaches, not for the man before me, whoonly deserved my attitude when I was hoping he’d fix it with his tongue in my mouth. Or between my legs.

His jaw locked tight, straining beneath the facial hair coming in since he hadn’t shaved since last week.

The turbulence seemed to stop, as if someone had hit the snooze button, but Hudson remained in the same position.

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