Page 62 of Hostile Extraction

“Aren’t you worried about Stan?”

“He’ll be fine. If they stop him, he knows four languages. He’ll pretend he’s a local who gave us a taxi ride. Or he’ll just babble in Arabic until they give up.”

They approached the ticket booth.

“I’m surprised you’re up and running so soon after the storm.” Dusty took a bite of the crunchy waffle cone.

The island girl smiled, then nodded to the harbor. “Cruise Liner. The company wants things for their customers to do when they come ashore. We have a contract with them. This is one of theiron island excursions.”

Dusty nodded and put his arm around Asia, taking the tickets the lady handed.

She nodded to their matching shirts. “I see you’re newlyweds. Congratulations, and enjoy your ride.”

“Thank you,” Asia chimed and smiled up at Dusty.

They walked up a ramp, ditching their cones in a trashcan. Another employee opened the doors to one of the aerial gondolas as an intercom message began. “Please keep clear of the doors and remain seated for the duration of your ride.” They were the only passengers in theirs and slid onto the bench seat as the doors glided shut with a whoosh.

Once they cleared the terminal and were high above the streets, Dusty put his arm around her and dragged her against his side. “Don’t worry. We’ll make it back to the estate, and everything will be fine.”

She felt the gun tucked in his waistband and knew he’d use it if it came to it. “I trust you. I know you’ll take care of me.”

She leaned her head against his chest, and it just felt right.

“It’s kind of fun pretending to be your fiancée.” She chuckled, wondering if he was feeling the same. Hoping maybe more could come from this thing between them after all.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, it reminds me of a lifetime ago when I used to fantasize about it.”

“You used to fantasize about being my wife?” Dusty titled his head and couldn’t help the grin spreading across his face.

Asia laughed a tinkling laugh. “Yeah, big white dress and everything.”

“Well, I guess I screwed that one up,” Dusty murmured as the gondola rocked to a stop. The doors opened and they stepped out.

Before Asia had a chance to reply, Dusty’s phone vibrated. He pulled it from his pocket, taking her hand with his free one and leading her to the railing of the viewing platform.

“It’s Stan,” he whispered to her, putting it to his ear. “Yeah? You okay?”

He talked for a few minutes and then hung up.

“What did he say?” Asia asked.

“He lost them. He’s going to pick us up across the street. Come on.”

They rode down in silence, but she cuddled to his side, and he put his arm around her. She felt hope when he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Her old fantasy kept popping into her head. Maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched after all.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Stan pulled up in a Jeep Cherokee and rolled down the window. “Get in. Asia, get in the back. There’s a jacket you can cover yourself with.”

Asia did as he said, and Dusty slid into the front seat. “New wheels?”

Stan sped off. “Figured I needed to get rid of the pickup. Too many eyes were looking for it.”

“You hotwire this one?” Dusty asked.

“Yeah.”

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