Page 93 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
A smile trembled over her lips as she strapped on her seatbelt. She’d given him tonight. Here was to many more nights to come!
The helicopter lurched as it lifted off the ground, its blades beating rhythmically, churning the air as they climbed toward the stars. The eastern wing of the palace was engulfed in flames, the orange glow reflected in the flooded city below, and somehow, unaccountably, they were leaving it all behind and starting over. His palm slammed against the reinforced panel and an arsenal tumbled out—Glocks, spare magazines, and combat blades clattering against the metal floor.
So, this was married life? That sounded about right.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Wednesday, December 25th, DAY 34
— Christmas Day—
TheIslandofAeaea.She’d have to hand it to Achilles. No one would guess that they would land straight into the nest of these serpents on purpose.
Bris stepped onto the creaking steps of the cottage, her hands sliding against the weathered stone exterior that had been polished smooth by decades of Aeaean winds. A wooden cross wrapped in basil sprigs hung above the door to celebrate Christmas, the herbs still green and fragrant.
The coordinates had led them to this secluded house in the middle of the woods, but the basil decorating this cutesy place was too fresh to be some abandoned vacation home. Charisse’s father must’ve been here recently, or they’d paid someone to keep the place clean and presentable.
Her mind felt like it was on overdrive after battling for her life once again. They’d spent all night huddled together in the back of the helicopter, sharing Achilles’s coat—well, supposedly sharing, she’d actually hogged the warmth like she did the blankets, the pillows, his arms.
And the poor man let her. She couldn’t get enough of him, couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop seeking desperately for his protection after everything that had happened.
Now his broad shoulders shadowed the doorway as he tried the handle. The soft golden glow of morning light filtered through the cypress branches, gilding his roughened jaw as he broke into the home belonging to Charisse’s father.
He’d always been rebellious and headstrong, but now he was leading her right along into that same trouble. The surprising thing was that she was going right along with it. More than that…she was racing for that danger like a ship sailing straight for the rocky cliffs of Scylla.
They entered the idyllic cottage cradled among ancient olive trees and wild lavender that perfumed the morning air with its sweet fragrance. Strange that after all this time of her marriage, she finally had some alone time with her husband.
Like alone—like really alone—not a soul around for miles, no servants or spies or surveillance or trackers. This might be the strangest Christmas morning of her life, but this also felt so cozy, so peaceful!
As they moved through the kitchen, his dark eyes found hers across the small space, the center of that storm focused on the sequined fabric whispering against her skin. “You know,” he said with a wicked grin, “between that dress and this empty cottage, I’m thinking we should have a proper honeymoon.”
And how was it that she was racing for trouble again, flying over hand-woven rugs and falling headlong into his arms? His lips captured hers with desperate hunger, his hands tangling in her hair, anchoring them both to this moment where they’d somehow found their freedom.
And they’d found it on this island of all places. Aggie Mnon was here, possibly the Myrdons too, but it was his father that Achilles hunted. They should be running away, not towards the danger. Her mind was clouded with fear, sadness, and confusion… but there was one thing that was never in question—how she felt for Achilles.
His kiss sparked in her a fire, and she melted into him, feeling the solid warmth of his chest against hers, the gentle pressure of his wedding band. For once, she truly felt married—the sacred vows had finally come to life.
“Whatever we find here on this island,” he said between kisses, “whatever forces try to tear us apart, my loyalty is to you. I trust you with my soul.”
The words sent a little start through her as she remembered the horrific cross her father had forced her to give to him—but Achilles had taken it off, thrown it away. They could start fresh, couldn’t they?
“You’re staying here where it’s safe.” he whispered against her temple before she could admit what she’d done. His voice was raw with emotion. “I love you!”
“I love you too,” she breathed, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. And she had to stop him from being so reckless! All she could think about was how much she wanted to grow old with this man… but if he didn’t survive this? The thought sent a shiver through her, and his arms tightened around her in response. They must survive—they had too much to live for now. She drew back. “What will you do if you findhim?” She didn’t have to ask who.
“I’ll stop him any way I can.”
“No!” She kept her voice stern as she threw her fist against his chest and looked him squarely in the eye. He’d tucked the combat blades next to the Glock in his belt like he’d gone back to his Myrdon days. “You’re not killing him!”
He could not have that blood on his hands.
“I’m sure it won’t come to that.” A noncommittal answer that he immediately swept aside as his fingers pressed into the emerald sequined fabric against her back. Her heart soared to the sky the same instant he swept her off her feet and set her on the worn wooden table. It creaked beneath her weight and then his, and she hardly noticed as his mouth found hers, and all she could think about was him.
Heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel path outside, followed by an irritated voice calling out in rapid Tirrojan: “Ti kanete edo? Afto einai ieros topos!”
Achilles moved protectively in front of Bris, but his reply came in the same fluid Tirrojan: “Sygnomi, Pater. Den irthaMe na epivealoume. Psaxnoume to spiti mas, alla exasame ton dromo.”
Her eyes ran to him in surprise. He’d done that better than when under their tutors’ stern gazes… and to be quite honest, she had no idea what he’d said.
