Page 110 of Stolen Faith

A destination. Izabel looked at her fiancés. Where were they going? She’d wanted to go home, but now that it was time to actually go, she realized that her condo in Boston wasn’t where she wanted to be. Walking in there would mean confronting the aftermath of their kidnapping. She knew they had to do that, but not right now.

They could go to her parents’ place, and she did want to hug her parents, but again, not right now. She’d called them, talked to them, but physically she needed time.

She wanted to go home, but home wasn’t a place.

She met Rowan’s gaze. He turned to look at Brennon.

The mercenary shifted his feet, waiting.

Brennon turned to look at her and Rowan, then he smiled.

“California,” Brennon said. “Tell the pilot we’re going to L.A.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Thank you,” Izabel said, as the flight attendant welcomed them aboard. The pilot stepped out of the cockpit and told them it would be at least half an hour before they could take off as they waited for some final paperwork.

Izabel didn’t care. She could happily move onto this plane and call it home after the places she’d been the past few days.

The private jet was very nice, similar to the one her parents owned. It wasn’t until she walked in and grabbed a seat that she realized Rowan and Brennon were both a bit shell-shocked by their accommodations.

Brennon let out a low whistle. “Damn. So this is how the other half lives.”

Rowan didn’t reply, his attention directed toward the cockpit rather than the bar that Brennon was currently walking toward.

“I’m sure the pilot would let you take a look up there if you wanted,” Izabel said, hoping Rowan rejected the idea. They’d all gotten good medication, but Rowan was a bit pale and moving gingerly enough that she knew he was still suffering.

“Maybe later,” he said, claiming the seat next to her, as Brennon started reading off the top-shelf listing of booze available.

Brennon never turned around as he exclaimed, “Jesus. Some of these bottles go for two, three thousand a pop.”

Izabel grinned and turned toward Rowan. “Clearly his first time not flying coach.”

Rowan sighed. “Gotta admit, my air travel has been limited to military planes and…coach.”

Rowan had shaved off his three-day shadow when they were at the private hospital, but Brennon hadn’t. When she’d asked him about it on the ride from the hospital to the airport, Brennon confided that he planned to keep it, deciding it made him look like John Krasinski. She’d laughed at the time, but now, as he walked back toward them, she had to admit he had a point. The beard was definitely hot.

Brennon handed Izabel a vodka Collins. “It’s just a light one because…pain meds.” Then he handed Rowan a whiskey with water on the rocks before going back to the bar to grab his drink. He took the seat across from them. “Thought we needed a do-over of…that night.”

Izabel smiled, recalling the evening in her condo. The second night after their binding ceremony had felt so exciting, their new relationship full of promise. That night, she had experienced sexual attraction mingled with curiosity about who they were, concern that they’d use her as a pivot point, and determination to build a marriage like her parents. Rowan had been quiet, Brennon charming. She’d been optimistic about the match, thinking them off to a good start.

If they hadn’t been kidnapped, hadn’t endured the hell of the past few days, she suspected she would be feeling exactly the same way, the three of them likely still tiptoeing around as they got to know each other.

Those first impressions were so damn lukewarm compared to her feelings right now, but Izabel couldn’t find a way to put any of that into words she thought they might understand. She didn’t want to imply that the kidnapping and what followed were somehow good. They weren’t. They’d be dealing with the fallout for years, but still…

She focused on something easier instead. “I’m not sure Rowan is physically able to kneel down on the floor. More’s the pity because…” There weren’t words big enough to describe how incredible the orgasm he’d given her that night was.

“Mad skills, huh?” Brennon finished for her. “Your dress was in the way. Next time, I want a front row seat, wanna better view of the action.”

“Your skills are pretty mad too,” she said, recalling their time in the cell. She couldn’t regret that their first time together had been there because Brennon had given her exactly what she’d needed in that moment.

“You know, I’m willing to give it the old college try,” Rowan joked, though the fact he didn’t move an inch confirmed her suspicion that he was still in a great deal of pain.

She pointed a finger at him and used her sternest voice. “Don’t move. I promised the doctor I’d look after you.”

Rowan gave her what he probably thought was passing for a grin but was more grimace. “Just so long as you’re offering sexy nurse and not Nurse Ratched.”

“That all depends on what kind of patient you are.” She laughed briefly at their playful banter, shocking herself when it turned to a sob.

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