Page 84 of Hard Limits

“Your father filed a police report saying you stole a watch from his safe.”

“From his safe? How would I do that? I don’t even know the combination—he changes it every month, and it’s not as if he’d trust me with the details.” Indi’s voice got higher in pitch as the news sank in and she began to panic. “And why would I take a watch? I already have a watch.”

“So you could sell it, probably.”

“If I was that desperate for money, I’d have taken the cash he keeps in his desk drawer. There’s a false bottom he thinks I don’t know about. And I didn’t even go back to freaking Springfield before I left Massachusetts. I just sold all the stuff I didn’t need and got on a bus in Boston.” She buried her head in her hands. “Every time I think this can’t get any worse, it does. Is someone coming to arrest me? Should I get a lawyer?”

Brax believed her.

“Not right now. At some point, we’ll have to deal with this, but we have more important things to worry about today.” Brax glanced at his own watch. “We have to leave in thirty minutes.”

“What if I get arrested at the airport? What if—”

“You won’t be.” Alexa had said she’d find a workaround, and although she was a pain in the ass who paid lip service to the law most of the time, Brax trusted her. “I promise you won’t be.”

CHAPTER 31

THE ASSISTANT

He’d really done it. Brax had really arranged a private jet. The gleaming white bird was parked on the tarmac outside the executive terminal, so near and yet so far. Would we make it on board? Because there was a man in a uniform waiting ahead of us, and the police thought I was a freaking criminal. I’d always assumed that Vimal would abuse the privileges of his job to find me, but I hadn’t dreamed he’d actually try to have me arrested.

“Let me do the talking,” Brax said under his breath. “You’re the trophy girlfriend of a wealthy businessman—act entitled.”

I’d always tried not to do that. And would it be enough, anyway? I had “guilty” written all over my face, and I hadn’t even done anything. Well, except for walking into Brax’s life and turning it upside down. He’d just gotten free from one troublesome woman, only to get tangled up with another one.

“Good morning, sir. Ma’am.” The man nodded to both of us. His uniform said he held some kind of authority, but he wasn’t a cop.

“Morning.” Brax had our passports in his hand, but he didn’t offer them.

“Do you need a ride to your plane?”

A ride? Why would we need a ride? The plane was right there, and a porter was taking care of our bags.

“That won’t be necessary.”

Uniform Guy opened the door for us.

“The other members of your party are already on board. Have a good flight, sir. Mind the step, ma’am.”

That was it? No rifling through my suitcase? No removal of shoes? No awkward pat-down? This was my dream life, apart from my best friend being missing, obviously.

Brax gripped my hand as we walked to the plane, and I thought the gesture was part of the act, that he’d drop it as soon as Uniform Guy was out of sight, but no, he didn’t let go until we reached the bottom of the stairs. My father used to march onto planes while my mom struggled with the bags, but with one of those weirdly intimate touches to my lower back, Brax signalled that I should go first.

“You are a gentleman.”

He’d claimed that a while ago, and at the time, I hadn’t believed him. But now I knew he spoke the truth.

“No, my queen. I just want to admire your ass.”

Now he was lying. Brax might have a dirty mind, but chivalry was ingrained in his DNA. Still, I put a little wiggle on as I climbed up the steps, then stopped short at the top when I realised the pilot was watching me.

“Welcome aboard, ma’am. I’m Brett, and I’ll be your pilot for this trip.”

“Nice to meet you, Brett.” I didn’t have to act entitled anymore, right? That was just for the security guy? “This plane is much bigger than I thought it would be.”

“We need the range,” a voice said from my right. “We’ll be flying almost six thousand miles today.”

I turned to find an older man lounging against the wall, early forties at a guess, although the weathered face combined with an obviously toned body made it hard to tell. A lecture about sunblock was on the tip of my tongue, but I held back. In any case, the creases only made him look more appealing, handsome in a James Bond, battles-hard-fought kind of way. But his fashion sense didn’t come close to 007’s. This guy wore a Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, and sandals. At least he’d forgone the socks.

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