by Michele Hauf
Eric climbed in front of Brian, donned his own helmet, and took off. She started the car and drove behind the Harley, exhaling in relief when her Honda didn’t squeal as it usually did.
Soon the sun peeked over the horizon, and the sky colored in pink and orange. A big sign welcomed them to Arizona. With each passing minute, the light increased. Hope returned to her heart as she recalled the brush of his lips on hers, his bone-melting smiles, and his concerned gaze lingering on her face. Starting a new life in Boston with Eric’s support might not be a bad thing. Without disturbing noises from her car, the hour and a half passed quickly enough.
Eric signaled they would exit the highway. She focused on the Harley and its riders and resolutely put aside the worries of the past. They stopped at a fast-food place and ordered breakfast.
“How was the ride?” she asked.
“Fabulous,” Brian exclaimed, the sparkling stars in his hazel eyes proving his excitement. “It’s like you are so powerful, so free, so relaxed. You stop thinking. You just feel the wind.” Her brother tried to describe his joy. “Thank you, Eric. It was amazing.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.” Eric ruffled Brian’s hair. “Motorcycle riding is an exhilarating experience. It gives you relaxation, pleasure, and a surge of adrenaline.”
“Exactly,” Brian said, his first ride making him an expert.
“Great.” Natalie shrugged.
“One day I’ll take you for a ride and you’ll see.” Eric’s warm gaze promised the moon.
Riding on his precious Harley, wrapping her arms around his waist, holding on to him... A wave of heat washed over her, and she averted her gaze to the menu sign on the wall. “I’m ready to order. Coffee and a bagel with cream cheese.”
“I’ll have the same,” Eric decided. “Brian?”
“A chocolate muffin and a glass of milk.”
Eric put in the orders and they settled at a corner table. “Next, we’ll head toward Phoenix,” he explained while they ate. “It’s a three-hour drive.”
“Geez, I hope my car lasts that long.”
“It will. And if it doesn’t, we’ll go with plan B.” His confident tone didn’t reassure her.
“What is plan B?” she and Brian asked at the same time.
Eric smirked. “I’ll keep it secret for the time being. Now let’s take a bathroom break.” But instead of walking to the restrooms, he pulled out his phone and went out to the street to talk.
Was he calling his wealthy cousin? Asking for help?
Fastening his helmet, Brian insisted on riding on the Harley again. “If you get sleepy, let me know right away,” Eric cautioned. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” Brian answered in a serious man-to-man tone and climbed on the bike’s rear seat.
Before she started her Honda, Eric asked Natalie to open the hood for one more check and then approached. She lowered the window. “Anything wrong?”
“Nope. You’re good to go. But wait...”
She frowned and he leaned inside.
“For good luck.” He stole a quick kiss and laughed. “Without fake hair this time. It works. We didn’t have any problems, right?”
She burst out laughing. “You’re incredible.”
“I hope you’re okay with that. If only for good luck.”
“For good luck.” She raised the window and blew him a kiss.
“Doesn’t work like that,” he shouted before striding to his Harley.
Oh, but his kiss had definitely worked. It gave her tingles all over, distracted her more than once, and almost made her forget to focus on the road and the motorcycle she should follow. Her mind popped various images of Eric—throwing her a rose at the theater, frowning in concern in her dressing room, smiling a mind-boggling smile, winking at her in the restaurant, serious or mischievous, but always generous and helpful. Geez, she was falling under his spell faster than her brother. To avoid dwelling on her charming companion, Natalie started singing.
Suddenly, the Harley’s lights blinked a right signal and Eric took the exit. Natalie followed all the way to a family restaurant with an appended souvenir shop and parked.
Eric came toward her. “We’re taking a quick restroom stop, and then Brian will ride with you.”
“But—” the boy started, his lips pinching and his eyes darkening with a mutinous shadow.
“You didn’t answer when I called you twice.” Eric fixed a stern look at Brian. “No distractions allowed on a motorcycle.”
“I didn’t hear.”
“You heard me well enough at other times. You shouldn’t push yourself, and I can’t afford you falling asleep behind me.”
“Can I come back with you after I rest, please?” Brian’s tilted head and pleading eyes could melt any soft heart.
Eric resisted. “We’ll see. Now everyone to the restroom.” His hand on Brian’s back, he didn’t give him more time to protest and ushered him straight to the men’s room.
Natalie followed their examples and went to the ladies’ room. She admired Eric’s firm handling of her brother. When they returned, Brian had lost his grouchy expression.
“We wasted enough time here. We have two more hours to go and a plane to catch,” Eric said.
“A plane?” Natalie squealed in relief. She’d been wondering if she’d have to drive all the way to the East Coast.
“A plane?” Brian’s eyes rounded in interest.
“The plane leaves at noon. We’ll need to speed a bit. Okay, Natalie?”
“Okay.” With the hope of a plane saving her in two hours, she’d do her best, but God help her car.
Next to her, Brian buckled his seatbelt, hardly answered her attempt at conversation, and played on his iPad. Soon he fell asleep, and she concentrated on the speeding motorcycle.
“Slow down,” she muttered when Eric maintained a seventy mile per hour speed. At one time he must have forgotten her presence and pushed to eighty. She swallowed hard but didn’t try to accelerate in the heavy late-morning traffic.
Sometime later, she huffed, frustrated at the lack of a clock in the car or a watch on her wrist, or a cell phone. What time was it? How much longer would she have to drive?
With Brian sleeping next to her, she couldn’t afford to sing. A buzzing sound startled her. Forget about singing. She focused on listening. The buzzing stopped for a minute, then resumed, louder now.
Jarred out of his nap by the strange noise, Brian jerked. “What’s that?”
“A problem.”
“Eric said to honk if you have problems.”
“Not yet. We’ve already delayed him. Maybe it will disappear,” she added as the buzzing faded. She kept going.
“Look.” Brian pointed at the road sign. “Phoenix is in twenty-five miles. We’re not too far.”
She wasn’t planning to stop. The buzzing resumed and intensified for five noisy minutes, then the car hiccupped a couple of times.
“Shit.” Natalie wisely veered off to the right and slowed down in the emergency lane.
“Better honk, sis.”
She did, and hoped Eric would hear her loud SOS before the many drivers passing her got annoyed by her continuous honks. A mile later, the car emitted a weird sputtering that soon morphed into scary rattling, then her dear old Honda shuddered and stopped. “That’s it. She’s dead. Now we wait for Eric. I wish I had my phone.”
“I’m sure he heard us. Or at least he’ll notice we’re not following.”
“It’ll take him a while to exit the highway, re-enter in the opposite direction, and join us.”
Cars kept passing them. The traffic continued to build up.
Ten minutes later, a truck stopped behind them. A man walked out and knocked on her window. “Ms. Natalie?”
“Yes?” She lowered her window.
“Mr. Eric Devereux called us. Apparently, your car died, right?”
“Yes, unfortunately.”
“We’re here to tow it. Mr. Devereux is following.”
The rumbling of an approaching motorcycle brought a sigh of relief to Natalie’s lips.
“Eric’s here,” Brian squealed.
Brian jumped out and ran to throw himself at his savior.
“I’m taking you on my bike. But sit here on the ground. Don’t move one step until I get your sister and bring your helmet,” Eric ordered.
“Okay.” Obediently, Brian dropped to the ground.
Eric walked to the passenger side of Natalie’s car. “Natalie, take your purse and get out from this side. They’ll tow your car and you’ll ride with them. No need to take the rest of the stuff. We’ll collect it at the garage. Just hand me Brian’s helmet and jacket.”
She nodded, squeezed over the center console to the passenger seat, and jumped out. “Thanks for coming to the rescue one more time.” She held his hand in both of hers.
He’d pushed her to her limit, driving for several hours at high speed, worrying about her junky car. Now she seemed so vulnerable. He pulled her against him and held her. “Things will improve soon.”
She bobbed her head with a weak smile of disbelief. “I guess it can’t get worse.”
“You’ll see. Trust me for just another half hour.” He stroked her back and then released her. “We need to go.”
The two mechanics had loaded the car on the tow-truck flatbed. “We’re ready to go. The lady’s coming?”
“Yes. Go with them, Natalie. I’ll follow you to the garage with Brian.”
Eric called Brian and settled him on his Harley.
The boy smiled to his ears. “Love your bike, Eric. If you want, I can clean it for you every day.”
Eric laughed. “Not a bad idea. We’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later, they all pulled into the garage yard, and Eric called his cousin’s bodyguards. “Hi, Ken. We are at a garage on Lincoln Street. I have my Harley, but my friends need a ride.”
“On my way.”
“What do we do now?” Natalie asked after retrieving her overnight bag and handing Brian his backpack.
“We get a drink and relax for a few minutes.” He’d already paid the garage and told them to dispose of the junkie car. “There’s a soda pop machine there. What d’you drink, Natalie?”
“A Coke.” She dropped on a bench and wriggled her shoulders. “We’ve been on the road since dawn. I wouldn’t mind a nap.”
“Eric, I’ll come with you to carry the cans,” Brian said. “Am I riding with you when we leave again?”
“No, we need a rest. The three of us will go in a car, and my friend will ride the Harley.”
“Ah. Are you really tired?”
Eric nodded. They got the cans and returned to sit with Natalie. A moment later, a black SUV pulled into the yard, and his cousin’s watchdogs climbed out.
Ken came to hug him. “Good to see you, man. This is Rob, our new guy.” Eric shook hands with Rob.
“I’ll ride your bike. Hey, nice piece.” Rob patted the shining red metal.
“Go easy on my Harley,” Eric warned.
“See you later. Or maybe never,” Rob called over his shoulder with a big laugh.
Eric ushered Natalie and Brian to the SUV. “Climb in the front, Brian. Ken will tell you where we’re going.” Eric held the door for Natalie and exhaled with relief when he settled next to her and Ken drove away. “By the way, let me do the introductions. Our driver Ken works for my cousin Philip. And here are my friends, Natalie and her young brother Brian.”
“Welcome to Phoenix, Natalie, Brian. If only for a very short time.”
“Where are you taking us, Ken?” Brian asked.
Counting on Ken to explain the next part of their journey, Eric leaned back against the seat and extended an arm behind Natalie’s back.
“We’re heading to the Deer Valley Airport. It’s only a twenty-minute drive. We’ll board a plane and fly to Boston. So from now on, just relax.”
Exactly what Eric planned to do. His palm closed over Natalie’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better, now that I’m not driving a dying car.” She didn’t ease away, but looked at him and smiled.
He smiled back and leaned toward her. A last-second scruple held him in check, an internal debate raging between his mind and his heart. He was dying to kiss her, and she seemed willing and pleased. But she was exhausted and vulnerable.
Tightening his hold around her back, he pressed his lips to her temple and kept her snuggled against his side in a friendly way.
6
Nestled against Eric’s firm shoulder, Natalie wished the ride to the airport would never end. Resourceful and supportive, he’d managed to accomplish the impossible—getting her and Brian away from Las Vegas and the men who thought they owned them. For a few peaceful minutes, she allowed herself to relax and stop worrying about the future.
“We’ve arrived,” Ken announced.
With a sigh, Natalie lifted her head from her muscular cushion and scanned her surroundings. “But...we’re on a tarmac.”
“Yes, we’re flying to Boston. The plane is here.”
“So...you don’t enter a terminal, buy tickets, go through security. Don’t tell me we’ll just sneak into a plane.”
“It’s my cousin Philip’s company plane. He sent it to pick us up.”
“Good Lord, who’s your cousin Philip? Another Hugh Callahan? Another powerful man who’ll soon expect me to repay him in some way?”
“Not at all. Philip Devereux is a generous, noble soul.” Eric sounded offended. “He’d never refused to help people in need. And right now, we need him. Or at least I do. And you’re coming along. Don’t worry about repaying anything. Philip is flying me back to Boston in a rush first to save me from the poker mob trying to get me, and second because they have a technical problem with their network and he’s counting on me to solve it.”
“Are you that good in technology?”
“I think so.” He sounded confident yet not smug. “Come. We can’t waste time here. We’ll have a five-hour flight to talk and answer all your questions.” He climbed out of the car.
Meanwhile, Ken held the door open for her on the other side. She got out and found Eric at her side, offering a reassuring smile. “Here are the pilots.”
Two men in blue uniforms approached them and shook hands with Eric, who immediately introduced them as employees of Devereux International Finance, or DIF, as he referred to the company.
So, Eric would soon work for a company carrying his family name. WOW. A bit dizzy, Natalie pondered this new information as Eric ushered her to an airstair and they boarded the plane. She stopped short at the opulent sight of white leather. A small but luxurious plane to say the least—a double-club seating arrangement with fully reclining seats. Brian and Ken settled in the bucket seats facing each other with a cocktail table between them, and Rob occupied the seat on the other side of the aisle.
“Natty, have you seen this?” For his first time in a plane, her jubilant brother was flying in style. “Ken showed me the cockpit. A beauty. I’ll have one like this when I grow up, after I buy a Harley. Nice going, Eric.” His admiration for Eric was turning into pure adoration.
With such a wealthy cousin, why was Eric cleaning floors and collecting dirty dishes in restaurants and hotels? What type of family was he related to?
Eric ushered her to the seats in the back of the plane, where they could enjoy limited privacy, and sat next to her. At closer examination, she realized the seats were in fact a sofa with removable arms that could be lowered to form several seats.
“What did they do with your Harley?” Natalie asked after buckling her seatbelt.
“Rob and Ken stowed it in the external baggage area.”
One of the two pilots came out of the cockpit and explained the safety measures to be followed in case of an emergency landing. A moment later, the plane took off smoothly, glided through a cocoon of clouds, and then soared in the blue sky.
Jaw sagging, lips parted, Natalie kept scanning
the plane. “What’s that gold and green design?” She pointed at the circle above the cockpit door.
“The logo of the company: big R and I letters in green, and over them, DIF in gold. The R and I stand for Rensy Island, where the company is registered.”
“Ah, I remember you mentioned coming from that island. That cousin of yours must be a very powerful person.”
“Not powerful in the way you mean it. He’s the complete opposite of your Mr. Callahan.” She arched a dubious eyebrow and he hoped she wouldn’t form the wrong opinion about Philip and, by association, about Eric. “Philip is generous, supportive, and always helping people in need.”
She shrugged. “So was Hugh Callahan.”
“Maybe, but Philip doesn’t expect people to repay him in a cheap way that degrades them. Besides, he’s happily married and adores his wife.”
She bit her lip, probably pondering his last statement, and caught his gaze, hers full of questions. “You said you grew up in...on that island. When did you come to the States?”
Ah, the moment of truth had arrived. He’d just met her the day before, even if it felt like he’d known her for months. Yet she’d find out about his family and title the moment they arrived in Boston and would accuse him of lying. If he revealed the truth about his family now, chances were she’d categorize him with the not to be trusted. He’d take his chances and hoped for the best.
“I grew up on Rensy Island, a gorgeous island in the English Channel that enjoys a lot of privilege, like no taxes and free health coverage for children and the elderly. A lot of beautiful beaches on one side and ragged cliffs on the other.” He remembered the wild bicycle rides with his cousins and visualized their fun vacations in their grandmother’s house.
“It must have been wonderful growing up there.” She smiled. “You have such a dreamy expression.”
“It was.”
“Why did you leave?”
He sobered, picturing the terrible week forever engraved in his memory. “I was nine when my parents left in a rush, following a family dispute. We settled in Boston, and I attended public schools with my brothers and sisters. My father was often scowling and my mother crying. At home, the atmosphere was gloomy for years. I joined the track team and the karate club, and often stayed late at school. The next ten years in Boston brought a lot of sorrow to my family.”