Luke did a thorough and rapid scan of his controls. “We’re leaking fuel.”
Isabella’s eyes snapped open. “How long do we have?”
“Not long.” He ran over their options in his mind, then decided how to proceed. “We’ll give them a false lead. We’ll land at the airport and switch planes. We’ll leave this one there for them to find. We’ll buy tickets to Seattle, and they’ll think we caught a ride to the Lower 48.”
The plane was vibrating now, and he knew more vital parts had been hit. Twenty minutes to the airport. Was that too much to ask of his damaged aircraft? No way. He was making it.
“You’re so confident they’ll think we went to Boston?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
Her expression became suspicious. “What exactly did you put on that note you left them?”
“I wrote, ‘See you in Boston.’”
“You did?” She sat up. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t want them around here anymore. I want them in Boston, away from Cort and Kaylie.” His fingers tightened on the controls. “It’s my game now, and they’re playing by my rules.”
“And having them waiting for you when we get to Boston is what you want?”
He shrugged. “It’s what we’ve got. We’ll make it work.”
Isabella grabbed her harness as the plane bucked. “I have to ask you something. I want an honest answer.”
“Ask.”
“Are you trying to get us killed?”
It riled him that she had to ask. “Fuck, no. You’re staying alive, and so are Cort and Kaylie. No other option is acceptable.”
She met his gaze. “And you think you can take them on head to head?”
He ground his jaw. He’d lost every other time. But this time would be different.
The lives of three innocents demanded he get it right this time.
“Luke?”
“Yeah, I can.”
She leaned her head back. “I hope you’re right. I really, really do.”
So did he.
They’d landed at the airport on fumes, but Luke had made quick work of borrowing another bush plane and checking them on to a commercial flight bound for Seattle. In less than twenty minutes they were airborne in another bush plane, but even that brief time on the ground had made both of them antsy.
Once they were on the way to Luke’s house to pick up supplies, Isabella finally relaxed. Only in the air did she feel truly safe right now. In Luke’s capable hands, high above the spray of bullets, being airborne was her respite, and she was asleep almost instantly.
By the time Luke was preparing to land his borrowed plane, Isabella had woken up, but she was still so tired she could barely keep her eyes open. She watched as he did the third flyby of his property. “You really think it’s safe to land?”
“Yeah. We can crash here for a few hours while I get stuff together. There’s no way for them to find out I own this property. “
“Even Leon?”
Luke didn’t hesitate. “Even Leon.”
“Okay.” She sighed and rubbed her shoulder. It was throbbing, and she felt like she had been run over by a couple of cars and a motorcycle.
After fighting so hard to get Luke to go back to Boston with her to save Marcus, she’d finally succeeded, and it was as if her body hadn’t been able to keep going a moment longer.
It was nearing dusk, and as Luke banked the plane to land, he said, “Check out the sunset.”
Isabella turned her head and gasped. The sky was filled with the most vibrant oranges, yellows and reds she’d ever seen. Purple clouds hung low in the sky. Brilliant orange coated the trees in a haze of color. Huge mountains stood in the distance. A vast expanse of nature’s beauty in a way she’d never seen in her life. “It’s unbelievable,” she breathed, as she leaned forward, trying to get closer to the magic.
Marcus tried to create beauty in his house, and she’d always thought he succeeded, but it was nothing compared to the vista before her. This was untainted. Pure. Unlike anything her life had ever been.
“First time I saw it,” Luke said, “I was on a run for Marcus that he’d piggybacked on an expedition I had up here. Alaska won me over that very minute, and I knew I’d end up here someday.”
Isabella was surprised by the regret in his voice. He was watching the sunset intently, as if drinking it in for the very last time.
“I’ll miss this,” he said.
“Why do you have to miss it? We won’t be in Boston forever.” She cleared her throat. “I mean, you won’t be.” Because Luke wouldn’t be staying with her.
Luke straightened up and turned the plane again, and the vista vanished from sight. “Can’t come back. Too many roots. I won’t endanger them.”
“So you’ll just leave again? Like you left your dad?”
He shot her a hard look. “Yeah. Just like it.” His sarcasm was evident, as was the fact that he had no interest in discussing it. He landed the plane on a bumpy clearing and taxied the plane around. “That’s my place.” He nodded at the magnificent log cabin in front of them.
His house was two stories high, with massive windows that faced the sunset. A giant curved pane of glass spanned the entire west side of the second story, and a deck stretched around the whole house, sporting beautiful carved furniture. It was refined and elegant but rustic as well.
Not a decrepit log cabin.
A beautiful, beautiful home that was honest in its beauty. “Who built this place?”
“I did.” He stopped the plane and leaned on the dash. “Nice, isn’t it?” He pointed slightly to the right. “There’s a lake down there you can see from the edge of the clearing. I fish there sometimes, but mostly just breathe it in. Have you ever experienced the purity of air that surrounds a pristine lake? You can practically breathe the lake into your lungs. Incredible.”
He stopped the plane, and Isabella stepped out. The air was crisp and fresh, her breath clouding in it. She felt as if she were inhaling pure cleanliness into her lungs. “It’s incredible.”
“It is.” Luke walked up beside her and brushed his shoulder against hers. “I’m glad you appreciate it.”
“I do.” For a moment, they stood in silence, simply enjoying it together. Her throat tightened, and she had a sudden urge to lean into him. “It feels like peace out here,” she said quietly. Never had she experienced anything like this. It was an oasis of nature and safety. There was no noise of civilization. No cars. No clutter. Just soothing quiet.
“This is where I come to find peace,” Luke agreed. “Cort’s the only one who has ever been here. It’s my sanctuary. I don’t share it.”
He was gazing over the valley, a look of utter relaxation on his face. She’d never seen him so at ease, and it make him look so much younger. Almost boyish. She understood it, because being here, in this moment, she felt the same way. As if all her problems were surreal and distant.
She could see for a hundred miles. Acres and acres of woods. The lake down below, cast into a golden glow by the sunset. Total freedom.
Everything her mother had ever wanted and never had. She’d come so close to her dream, and it had been jerked out from under her at the last second. Killing her.
Tears filled Isabella’s eyes. “Too late, Mama,” she whispered. “It came too late.”
“What did?” Luke began rubbing Isabella’s shoulders.
“God, that feels good.” She closed her eyes as his fingers dug into her back. He was staying away from her injury, but her body was so tense from trying to compensate for it, and from all the stress. It felt so incredible to have his thumbs working away at the knots in her shoulders.
“Figured it would.” He rubbed her neck. “Tell me about your mom.”
She tensed at his persistence. “I don’t want to talk about it.” If he knew the truth about her, she wasn’t sure he’d still come to Boston. Luke wanted those he loved to be pure and perfect. If he couldn’t love his own father due to some s
hady dealings, how would he possibly stay with her if he knew the truth?
But a part of her wanted to be wrong. She wanted to tell him what she’d done and give him the chance to show he was more than she had initially believed. Maybe she should give him a chance. Maybe—
A faint roar made Luke stiffen, and she followed his gaze across the valley toward a small plane barely visible in the distance. “We need to go.” Luke caught her arm and hustled her back up toward the house.
Isabella hurried along beside him. “Do you recognize that plane?”
“Yeah, it belongs to a bush pilot named Titus Fector. He always flies this route. Shouldn’t be anything to worry about.” But Luke kept an assessing eye on the horizon as he unlocked the front door.
He shoved her inside, and she barely had time to gape at the magnificent interior of the not-so-rustic cabin with its panoramic windows and two-story ceiling with exposed beams, before Luke herded her toward the kitchen. “Get some food, then crash in the bedroom.” He looked at his watch. “It’ll take me a couple hours to get everything together, and you need to rest.”
The kitchen had granite counters and hand-carved wood cabinets. She loved its traditional clean lines. There was a thick rug on the wood floor, and she wanted to pull her shoes off and dig her toes into it.
The place felt like home, and she’d never been in such a cozy house. That felt so right.
It was the place of her dreams. A dream that had always been vague and fuzzy, unclear, because she’d never actually seen or experienced what it was she wanted. But this house, the way it made her feel, it resonated. This was her dream. To feel this way. And now that she felt it, had found a building that made her feel like she was home, she knew that it existed. Really and truly.
Her dream could come true. Someday. Somehow. She would have this. And Luke, he was her enemy, and she could never trust him, but he was going back to Boston with her to help her. On this mission, for this moment, she wasn’t alone. On some levels, he was the personification of her dream as well: a wonderful, passionate, powerful man who could protect her and keep her safe, just because he wanted to. Not because she paid him or had some other leverage over him.
Luke was helping because he’d decided he wanted to, and she knew nothing would shake him.
Her throat tightened, and she was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.
“Isa.” Luke caught her arm and turned her toward him. “Are you listening? You need to catch some sleep. Do you understand?”
She threw her arms around his neck. “Thank you.”
His gripped her waist with his hands, and his eyes went dark and stormy. “For what?”
“For showing me your house. For going back to Boston with me to save Marcus.”
Luke’s face became grim. “Isa, I’m not going back to save—”
She kissed him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
She didn’t want him to ruin the moment with some negative talk about his father. She wanted to engrave the feel of it into her cells so she could re-create it, so she could pull the memory out in the future when life got tough, as a reminder that she had once felt this way and she could feel it again.
Luke fisted the back of her hair and took over the kiss almost instantly. His kiss was ravenous, as if he’d been stalking her, waiting for the moment to attack. His tongue plunged between her lips, a hot, wet probing that made chills shoot down her spine. He grabbed her hips and in one motion, hoisted her up and forced her legs around his waist, never letting up the assault on her mouth.
It felt so good to be against his hard body and to be held in his arms. He was strong, he was hot, and his kiss was so demanding, as if he couldn’t live another minute without her. The way he held her and kissed her made her feel wanted and beautiful. Sexy.
He kicked open a door, and she opened her eyes as he carried her into a bedroom. Against the right wall was a huge king bed with a light maroon comforter. The walls were soft beige, the ceiling raw wood, and windows stretched along two full sides of the room. Scenic paintings decorated the walls, and big, comfy throw pillows filled half the bed.
The bed was lived in, loved and personal. It looked like a bed that had been chosen because it made him happy, not because it would be impressive when Architectural Digest did a story on the house.
The room was probably completely different from the one in which Luke had grown up.
She remembered the story of his mother’s death, and her heart tightened. Like her, Luke had never had a home. He’d created one here for himself. She might hate the way he judged his own father and the fact that his love was conditional, but at the same time…they were the same. At their hearts, at their cores.
He might, just might, understand her and what she’d done. She framed his face with her hands as he carried her across the room. She wanted him to know the truth about her. “Luke—”
He kissed her again. The kiss was so intense, so passionate, filled with such fire she forgot what she was going to say and got lost in the emotions rushing through her. She felt the mattress beneath her back, and then she was tossed into the pile of the pillows. She had no time to sink between them before Luke was on her. His weight pinned her to the bed, his kiss teased down the side of her neck, and his hands caressed her waist.
Excitement pulsed through her, and she threw her hands around his neck and pulled him toward her as she kissed him back, desperate to get closer. She wanted to bury herself in the gift he gave her: the sensation of being safe, of being home, of being protected.
Luke was going to Boston.
He hated Marcus, and yet he was going for her.
“Luke.” She arched her back as he tugged her shirt out of the waistband of her jeans, and then gasped when he kissed her bare stomach. The kiss was so tender and passionate, but it was also aggressive and dominant, exactly how Luke was.
She ran her fingers through his hair and he kissed his way up her body to her bra, and then he caught the waistband of her shirt and lifted. “Sit up, hon. I don’t want to hurt your shoulder.”
She did as he instructed, startled by the intense passion on his face. He didn’t take his eyes off hers as he pulled her sweatshirt off, but he was so gentle as he guided her injured arm through it that she almost felt like crying. He was intense, he was passionate, and he was also tender. Gentle. Caring.
Everything she wanted. Everything she’d craved.
Except he would leave her if he knew the truth about her.
Her stomach turned and she pulled back. “No, Luke, I can’t—”
He kissed her again, and this time it was pure tenderness. Deliberate. Seductive. A kiss that made her feel like a treasured lover, like a best friend. It was how she’d always wanted to be kissed. She didn’t want it to end. She couldn’t bring herself to walk away.
Maybe there was a way it could work between them. Maybe Luke could be healed. Saved. Maybe he would kiss her like this forever, not just once. Maybe—
He cupped her breast, and Isabella gasped with pleasure. God, she wanted it. She wanted him to touch her. To kiss her. To make her a part of this amazing house. To bring her into his pain, pain she shared and understood. She could help him. He could help her.
And he could destroy her as well. If she let herself care, if she trusted him too much. If she forgot that he believed love should be conditional…She wasn’t perfect. He wouldn’t be able to cope with her past. “Luke!” She caught his head as he began kissing his way down her belly. “Stop!”
He looked up at her, but his hands kept working on the fly on her jeans. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m not the woman you think I am.”
He raised one eyebrow at her as he unzipped her jeans. “How do you know?”
“I—” She caught her breath as he began to tug her jeans down her hips, following the path of her pants with his mouth. A kiss over her belly. Another kiss lower. And lower. And then on her inner thigh. He had such intense passion on his face, she couldn’t
bring herself to speak. She couldn’t force herself to blacken her image in his eyes. She didn’t want him to look at her with revulsion. To—
“I think you’re courageous.” He pulled her jeans over her feet, and then ripped off his shirt. “I think you’re a survivor.” He unbuttoned his fly and began to slide his jeans over his hips. Slowly. “I think you love unconditionally, and that’s pretty fucking incredible.”
She stared at the expanse of skin he was revealing. Dark hair, narrowing to a V, and then…He was erect. Ready. Wanting her.
“It’s naive, and it drives me nuts that you love Marcus.” He moved over her, a deliberate tease, giving her the chance to stop him.
She couldn’t do it.
All she could do was watch in nervous anticipation as he moved between her legs. He lowered his hips between her calves and wrapped his arms around her thighs. He kissed the tuft of hair at the top of her cleft. “I think you overestimate your ability to deal with the people after you, which could get you killed. That annoys the hell out of me.” He kissed lower, and her body clenched. “I think you try to be so tough.”
His tongue swept between the folds, and she closed her eyes. Dear God, it felt so amazing. “I’m not tough,” she whispered. “I’m scared all the time. Scared of losing everything that matters to me.”
“Which makes all you do that much more amazing.” He kissed her again, and her whole body shuddered as his words resonated in her. He thought she was courageous. Tough. Beautiful. And he recognized her need to love. And thought it was incredible.
This man…he was broken. But not irrecoverably. There was so much good stuff beneath the surface, beneath the pain…
He upped his assault. God, she wanted him. Wanted this man to be inside her. Now. To feel close to him. To reach him. To bring him closer to her heart and her soul. It was foolish, but she didn’t care. She needed him. She needed what he gave her. And this was her moment. “Make love to me, Luke. Please.”
He shifted position, kissing his way up her body as he wedged his hips between her thighs. He nudged at her entrance, and she was filled with the need for him to be inside her. To connect with him. To turn the bond she felt with him into something physical.
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