Page 3 of Dirty Roxie
“It could be some fancy rich-guy material I’ve never heard of.”
“Are you going to focus on my wealth through this entire trip?”
“Um, hello?” I gesture to our surroundings. “We’re about to take off in this fancy-pants private plane.”
“It’s a jet.”
“Fancy-pants private jet,” I amend.
He stops his ministrations and turns my way. “This is a Dassault Falcon 7x. It’s one of the fastest private jets a person can own with a maximum speed of Mach zero point nine. Not to mention a range of six thousand nautical miles. We can go almost anywhere without refueling and in about half the time as commercial travel.”
“And?” I pretend I’m not impressed. But really, I’m excited as hell to feel Mach anything.
“And hold on to your fancy panties, Red, we’re about to take off.” The jet moves, picking up speed rapidly as we go.
“I’m not wearing any.” I smirk right before my head pins against the seat and my stomach drops. Ronan manipulates something else and before I know it, the ground falls away beneath us and all I see are clouds.
“You never told me where we’re going,” I say.
“Where all the deceived go hunting for Judas . . . to the ninth circle of hell.”
