Page 60 of The Heir
"I'd much rather shenothate me and stay my best friend."
He opens his mouth, but a hazy look flashes across his face. His beautiful green eyes soften, and I swear, the ghost of a smile plays across his lips. "I think you should talk to her, then. When she's… less occupied."
"What was that?" I ask.
"Oh, love. I'll tell you when we're in a more, ah, private setting." He looks at me wistfully and rubs his thumb across my knuckles. "I promise."
Elliott clears his throat. "We have approximately half an hour before we reach the safehouse."
I flinch. I guess I forgot he was there. Kind of difficult, considering it's just us three strapped into jump seats bolted to the wall—and a driver, ostensibly, somewhere on the other side of the corrugated metal divider. Idon't know. Something about the way Dante looks at me just… makes the world fall away.
"ETA, ten minutes," Elliott announces, waking me from my restless nap. I don't know what it is, but something about being in a car makes me sleepy. If you can even call this thing a car. It's more like a tank and a bus had a baby.
Dante stretches out with a loud yawn, and I hear his back pop. I'm so fucking jealous. I feel so tense, like I need to pop every single joint in my body.
"Soon, love," Dante murmurs. "I promise, when we get to the safe house, I'll give you the massage of your life."
"That's a pretty big promise, babe," I snicker. "Remember the spa day?"
He groans, but it's good-natured. "Don't remind me that exists, darling! We're just going to have to rough it for a little bit longer. And once you've had our little monsters—" He smiles and softly rubs the pooch of my belly. "—I'll buy youso manyespresso martinis."
"Chocolate espresso martinis, sir." I poke his chest. "Don't forget that part."
"I could never."
As I smile at my husband, I feel the gentle rolling of the vehicle slow to a halt. Someone pounds twice on the side, and Elliottalmostsmiles. "Ah, we're here."
Thankgod. I unstrap myself from this goddamn contraption with Dante close behind, and I yank on the door handle—unfortunately, it doesn't budge.
"Not yet." He stares at me with annoyance. "First, inspection. Once we get the all-clear,Iwill open the door."
"Ugh!" I grumble and flop back on the seat, crossing my arms. "I just want to getout. Wait—this isn't another underground bunker, is it?"
"No."
I wait for him to elaborate, but it seems like he's perfectly content to give me just the information I ask for and nothing else.
"Am I going to be able to see the sun?" I press.
"Yes." He frowns at his tablet.
"What?" I ask, practically bouncing off the walls.
"Nothing to concern yourself with. There was a situation at the southern perimeter, but it's been handled."
"What kind of situation?" Dante asks, standing up straight. Ah, work-mode Dante. Sexy. Jesus, what are my hormones doing?
"Again, nothing to concern yourself with. There was a false alarm. Our South Team reported activity on theperimeter; it was nothing." He clicks the tablet screen off, fixing Dante with an almost bored stare.
"Nothing or not, I am entrusting my safety—and mypregnant wife'ssafety—to you and your teams. I understand that you do not work for me. However, I would appreciate it if you would speak to me like I know what the fuck I'm doing." Dante sizes the man up, his verdant eyes flashing with barely contained possessive rage.
"Noted."
I can see Dante prickle before my eyes, and itdoessomething to me. This Papa Bear thing he's got going… woof. Yes,sir.Even though my stomach is threatening to revolt, I swallow thickly and stay silent. Maybe I can get some water, a nice shower, some fresh clothes… and then goad Dante into taking out some frustration on me. A shiver runs down my spine, and I try my best to suppress a cheeky grin.
Before either man can say anything else, someone pounds on the side of the vehicle again.
"Oh, good." Elliottalmostsmiles. "We're clear. Follow me, please."
