Page 33 of Forgotten Deeds

“What was that?” he demands.

“Thank you, Darius,” I grit.

“Good girl,” he says quietly, and I ignore the ridiculous tingling between my legs.

“Where are we going?” Iris calls from the backseat.

“A surprise,” Darius answers.

“Yay, I love surprises!”

“Me too. Your mama, I’m guessing not so much.” He glances over to me. “She likes to think she’s in control.”

“You don’t know me,” I say dismissively, even though he just hit the nail on the head.

“Hmm,” is all he says.

I fidget in my seat, nerves taking over as we enter the Interstate and head out of downtown.

“It’s killing you,” Darius muses.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lie. Craning my neck, I smile at Iris in the backseat, who’s playing quietly with her mermaid doll.

Turning my attention back to the road, I twist my mood ring before finally pointing out, “If we’re just going to dinner, then why did we need overnight bags?”

“Killing you.” He chuckles. Sticking my tongue out at him is too childish, and I can’t flip him off with Iris in the vehicle, so I do neither.

Darius takes an exit ramp, and we drive seemingly to the middle of nowhere until we reach a small regional airport. “Iris, see the jet?” I point out.

“Where?” she asks.

I tap my window. “Over there on the runway.”

“Oh, I see it!” she exclaims.

“Are we eating at a restaurant in the airport?” I wonder. Iris will like that—she’s never flown before, so this will be a fun experience for her watching the planes take off.

Darius doesn’t answer my question, driving us to a gate and rolling down his window. “Evening,” Darius tells the attendant, handing the man a piece of paper.

“Evening.” The man writes something on the paper before handing it back to Darius. The gate opens, and the man hops in his golf cart, and we follow him down the ramp. To my utter shock, we stop near the private jet I just pointed out to Iris.

Darius opens my door for me and helps me out before hustling around the vehicle and getting Iris out of her seat. He hoists her up on his shoulders. “Look at me!” she says excitedly, holding onto his curly hair like reins.

“I see you!” So much for my daughter not getting attached to this dangerous man.

Darius holds out his hand for me, but I refuse to take it. Just because Iris is attached to him, that doesn’t mean I have to be. Recalling my time spent in the trunk of Darius’ car helps me keep things in perspective.

“You think too much, aggeloudhi mou,” he informs me.

“Do not,” I childishly reply.

We reach the steps of the jet, and Darius pulls Iris off his shoulders and places her on her feet. “Ladies first. And I whole-heartedly agree with that philosophy,” he tells me with a wink.

Ignoring his sexually-laced comment, I hold Iris’ hand as we walk up the steps and enter the lush private jet. The captain greets us—presenting Iris with a golden wings pin.

“Fancy seeing you here.” A familiar voice has me scanning the back of the plane.

“Kat.” I smile. “What a nice surprise.”

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