Page 195 of Mine Again
He doesn’t hesitate once, and the small crease of focus between his brows tells me his mind’s already a step ahead of whatever comes next.
I follow the movements of his hands, the way his forearms flex with each adjustment, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the unshakable ease in his posture, like this machine is simply another part of him.
The quiet certainty he carries is magnetic, and it sends a warm rush through me that I try very hard to ignore. His confidence is such a turn-on, but now is really not the time to get distracted by that.
He glances at me, his voice coming through the headset, startling me. “Ready?”
I give him a thumbs-up, my throat too tight for words.
He turns back to the control panel, fingers wrapping firmly around the cyclic.
The next second, the helicopter lifts smoothly, and the hangar pad drops away beneath us. I grip the edges of my seat, my fingers tightening as the distance between us and the ground grows.
The trees surrounding the hangar close in like a dark crown, their tops swaying faintly in the rotor wash. Beyond them, the shoreline curves into view, a pale ribbon where moonlight touches the restless water.
We hover for a moment, suspended between earth and sky, and my gaze drifts past the treetops to where the house sits. From here, it’s dark, looking as if it’s gone to sleep, its windows blank and still. Only the faint outline of its roof catches the moonlight.
A twinge flares in my chest. I’ve only spent a few nights in this house, but it quickly began to feel like my new home.
Luca presses a few buttons, and the roof of the hangar slides shut, sealing away the world we’ve just left behind.
We angle toward the open sea, the hum of the engine settling into a constant roar. I keep my eyes on Luca, studying the way the glow from the instrument panel traces the sharp planes of his face. There’s something so reassuring about his complete control, the way he navigates the dark as if it bends to him.
Despite what we’re facing, I feel safe.
He looks over at me, just for a moment, his eyes catching mine. A small, steady smile curves his mouth, and it’s enough to loosen the tight coil in my chest a little.
Luca’s island slips farther and farther behind, its shape softening until it’s only a shadow on the horizon. I press my forehead lightly against the glass, my breath fogging the surface.
It’s strange how much of me wants to turn back, when this place felt like a prison when I first arrived.
I don’t know when or if I’ll see it again.
I just hope I do.
Chapter Seventy-Two
Isabella
Luca eases the speedboat into Tangier in the late afternoon, slipping into the harbor with minimal fuss.
The city rises in stacked layers, whitewashed walls clinging to the hillside, minarets spiking the pale sky. Above the maze of streets, the heat shimmers in the falling light.
We changed on the boat, trading our travel clothes for something more local and less likely to draw attention. My scarf covers most of my hair, fluttering lightly in the breeze.
Luca looks like he belongs here, dark shirt, worn jacket, nothing that would catch a second glance. I try to copy the ease of his movements, but my spiking pulse keeps me from pulling it off.
The whole trip seemed too smooth.
No problems at the airport. No trouble getting the boat. No delays of any kind.
Luca’s calm has been absolute, his competence carrying us from one step to the next. In Gibraltar he even thought ahead, buying enough supplies so we won’t have to go out for days. Sometimes I wonder if there’s anything he doesn’t plan for.
I should feel safe. Instead, I’m unsettled.
The stillness seems loaded, like a breath being held.
We tie off at a quiet stretch of pier where no one lingers. Luca steps out first, scanning the dock before taking our bags from me and putting them at his feet. When he offers me his hand to help me disembark, I take it, and his fingers close around mine with quiet strength.
