Page 111 of Carnal Urges
My sarcasm makes his patience snap. “I know you don’t care about the bloody money! But it might make your life easier once I’m gone!”
My heart pounds. My hands shake. I want so badly to sock him right in the nose. I manage to keep my voice steady, though everything inside me is churning.
“The only thing that would make any of this easier is if you weren’t who you are. But that’s impossible. So let’s not entertain hypotheticals about futures that can never happen.”
Nostrils flared and lips thinned, Declan looks like a bull with a rider on its back about to explode from a holding gate.
“And don’t glare at me, either. If you want to drop me off on the next corner, that’s fine.”
As it turns out, that was the exact wrong thing to say. He regards me with entire cities burning to the ground in his eyes.
Pulling me close with a hand wrapped around the back of my neck, he growls, “I’m not dropping you anywhere, hellcat.”
I flatten my hands over his chest and push. It’s useless. I might as well be trying to move a mountain. “I hate that nickname, by the way.”
“No, you don’t. You fucking love it. And you hate that you love it. Get used to being seen, and being with a man who won’t let you hide, and who won’t cower when you lash that barbed tongue of yours.”
He crushes his mouth to mine.
I’m starting to get that this is going to be what’s politely called a volatile relationship.
I break away. He allows it, but only just. I fold my arms across my chest and stare straight ahead out the windshield, trying to get my ragged breathing under control.
He says darkly, “Why don’t you try some box breathing? I’ve heard it’s helpful in stressful situations.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Kieran glance back at me in the rearview mirror. If he’s worried his boss is about to get his eyes scratched out, he’s right.
The remainder of the ride to the airport is spent in silence. Thick, tense, burning silence. The left side of my face is peeling off in layers due to Declan’s blistering stare.
We come to a screeching stop at the heliport. I’m removed from the car by a tense Declan and led across the tarmac to a big black helicopter that looks like it was made to transport military troops. He opens the passenger door, settles me into the seat, buckles me in, and kisses me. Hard.
Then he says gruffly, “Please don’t freeze me out. Be angry all you want, but don’t shut down on me. I need you right now. I won’t be able to think straight if you don’t communicate with me.”
I’m such a wuss. That softens me up like microwaved butter.
“Okay,” I say, looking into his searching eyes. “But just because I’m not freezing you out doesn’t mean I’m not breaking vases inside my head.”
He kisses me again, this time more softly. “I know,” he murmurs against my mouth. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Then he slams shut my door, trots around to the other side, and gets in the pilot’s seat. He buckles himself in and starts flipping switches. He gestures to a pair of green headphones resting on a stick on the dashboard, or whatever the console of a helicopter is called.
“Put those on.”
“Don’t tell meyou’reflying this thing.”
“Of course I am.”
Of course he is. Why am I even surprised?
Looking over at me, he smiles. “I told you I was in the military.”
“You didn’t say you were Tom Cruise inTop Gun.”
“Didn’t I? Must’ve forgotten to mention it. Now put on your headphones.”
He dons his own pair of headphones and hits a switch that starts the engines. Above us, huge black blades begin to move in slow circles, quickly picking up speed.
I watch him go through the preflight checks with a deep sense of awe. I thought he was pretty macho before, butthis…
