Page 20 of Beautiful Scar

Dasha

“We’reflyingto Baltimore?” I climb onto the private jet, frowning around. “What about your car?”

“Damian will take that back.” Tigran collapses into a luxurious leather seat and sighs. “This is faster.”

I frown at him and squint out the window. I’m nervous and feeling a little sick. “I haven’t been on a plane in a really long time.”

“Lucky you.”

I hesitate and then choose the seat as far from him as I can get. I curl up in the big chair, pulling my knees to my chest, and he sighs before coming back to me. He slumps down in the seat beside mine. Not too close, but still,too close.

“Do you have to sit there?” I ask, frustrated by the way I react when he’s near. Like my body has a mind of its own.

He looks at me for a long moment as the crew gets the plane prepared to take off. I squirm a little under that gaze, hating the way my eyes keep drifting to his lips.

“When was the last time you ate something?”

That’s not what I expected him to say. “Uh, this morning, I think.”

“Dasha,pisik, you need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’ve had other things on my mind. You know, like leaving the only home I’ve ever known to move in with a stranger?”

He chuckles, low and intense, and flags down the flight attendant. She’s a pretty woman with high cheekbones and huge tits. He barely glances at her, which is a surprise.

She’s easily a ten, while I’m a six-and-a-half, and the half is being generous.

“My wife needs something to eat. What’s available?”

“Well, sir, there’s no meal?—”

“I asked you what’s available, not what you don’t have.”

She laughs nervously. “Of course, sir. I believe there’s a gourmet cheese and cracker plate?”

“That’ll do fine.” She scurries away, and Tigran leans toward me. “I want you to eat everything she brings.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“I’m not asking permission. You’re my wife now, which means you’ll take care of yourself. No more forgetting to eat.”

“Why do you even care?”

He grunts as he looks away. His face screws up like he doesn’t know how to answer that question before scowling back at me. “Because it’ll help you get through this without fainting again,and I don’t feel like peeling your unconscious body off the floor for a second time.”

My hands grip my knees tighter. “Right, that makes more sense. It’s not altruistic, right? Just making sure I don’t become a burden.”

“Exactly.” He smirks and leans his head back. “Now you get it.”

The flight lasts barely half an hour. He sleeps the whole time, and I reluctantly eat. I hate to admit it, but he was right—it makes the stressful experience slightly better.

As soon as we’re up, it’s like we’re coming back down for a landing. I’m busy eating, and I don’t even realize I should be freaking out.

At least, until the runway slips into view and we’re hurtling toward it.

I feel myself tensing like it’s the last thing I’ll ever see. How did I end up here? With a man I don’t know? A bossy, selfish asshole who only cares about making sure I do what’s expected of me?

Like have his babies.

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