Page 85 of Hard Limits

He gave me a lazy salute. “Priest. Co-pilot.”

“Mr. Priest?”

“No, just Priest.”

Okay, there were some definite downsides to flying private. This guy looked as if he’d be more at home on a surfboard than in a cockpit. Which, coincidentally, was what I tripped over when we walked farther through the plane. The surfboard had been abandoned in the aisle, propped against a seat.

“Sorry about that, sweetheart. I’ll stow it properly once we have your luggage on board.”

I’d almost landed in a woman’s lap, but thanks to the quick reflexes of the man sitting opposite her, who grabbed my arm, I stayed more or less on my feet.

“You must be Indi? I’m Dawson.”

It was strange hearing people use my real name again. “Thank you for coming.”

He was an old friend of Brax’s; I knew that much. He was also big. Tall, broad, muscular, and definitely more polished than Priest. Dawson’s chocolate-brown hair was close-cropped, and he’d remembered to shave.

“And I’m Ari.”

This was the private investigator? Brax had mentioned she was a woman, but I was surprised to find that she wasn’t much older than me.

“I’m so grateful to you for giving up your time to help.”

“Brax can be very persuasive.”

“Oh, I know.”

He’d persuaded me right out of my panties, and I’d enjoyed every second.

Priest ambled past with the surfboard, Brett returned to announce our bags were on board, and a minute later, the plane’s engines roared into life. The front cabin seated ten, and I buckled myself into a seat beside Brax for the take-off.

Brett’s voice came through the speaker. “Weather’s looking good, folks. We should be on the ground in Nevada in just over an hour.”

Nevada? But Meera was in Portugal.

This was clearly news to Brax as well. “Why are we going to Nevada?”

“Need to pick up the rest of the team,” Priest told us. “And the rest of the luggage.” He headed toward the cockpit. “There’s a bedroom at the rear if you two lovebirds want to join the mile-high club.”

My cheeks burned as he disappeared. Although… The mile-high club? With Brax? That would be something to never tell our grandchildren.

“What does he mean?” Brax asked Dawson. “What ‘rest of the team’?”

“Beats me. This is Alexa’s circus. We’re just the clowns.”

Alexa?

“Does he mean that blonde girl? The one who came to your office?” I asked Brax.

Dawson’s turn to do a double take. “Alexa came to your office?”

“It’s a long story, but yes. She showed up on Tuesday morning with a tape of Jerry doing unmentionable things with my ex-wife. Ex-wife. You have no idea how much pleasure it gives me to say those words.”

“Jerry? How did Jerry get involved?”

Ari’s eyes widened. “Do you mean Jerry Knight? From Blackstone House? I thought she disappeared?”

“Well, apparently, she and Alexa have been besties for the past decade, and Alexa just forgot to tell us. They cooked up the scheme between them. And that guy”—Brax pointed toward the cockpit—“was involved as well. I recognise him from the tape.”

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