Air Bound

by Christine Feehan

  “Just ahead is another resort. I’ve been there before and it has a few cabanas on the beach. If I remember correctly the cabanas were set a good distance from one another. I’ll be able to see anything coming at us. You can sit outside and rest while I go in and negotiate.”

  “So you knew where you were going all along,” Airiana said. Sometimes she wanted to kick him. Hard. “You could have just said you knew where you were going so I knew there was an actual destination instead of thinking we were wandering around lost.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “You thought I’d get us lost? Seriously, Airiana, this is me you’re with. I always have a plan and then at least two more backup plans. I don’t ever think things are going to work out perfectly, that would be ludicrous, so I have contingency plans for my contingency plans.”

  She did kick him. His calf felt a little like an oak tree, and it hurt her bare toes. She glared at him, certain it was his fault. “Have you ever considered communicating? Sharing your plan with your partner?”

  “Did you just kick me?” He sounded shocked.

  “There you go again. Your communication skills suck. Clearly I’m annoyed with you. You could at least pretend it hurt.” She hopped the next three steps, keeping the blackest scowl on her face that she could, although her sense of humor was kicking in. “Pretend it hurt. That, at least, would give me some satisfaction.”

  “I’m beginning to think you were underwater too long and it’s affected your brain. Stop hopping around like a rabbit. I’ll have to pick you up and then you’ll start with your attitude.”

  “I don’t have an attitude, Mr. I’ve-Got-My-Bossy-Pants-On.” She took three more steps, trying to ride on her sense of humor, but there was no more fuel in the tank. “I’m sorry. I’m going to sit down right here and wait for you to do your thing.” She stopped walking and would have sunk down into the strip of sand they were crossing, but he caught her around the waist, preventing her from doing so.

  “See that little patio to our right?” Maxim swung her into his arms. “I’m going to put you in a chair. You’ll be in the shadows. Wrap yourself in layers of air to distort your image just in case anyone comes near.” He strode across the sand quickly, blurring their image as best he could.

  Working with air was easy enough if one was still, but blurring a moving image was difficult and took concentration. Looking down at her stark white face with the swelling and bruising actually hurt. She didn’t belong in his world. He cursed himself for ever bringing her into it in the first place.

  Her hand came up and caressed the shadow on his jaw. “Sometimes you look so lonely and sad, Maxim, it breaks my heart.”

  She lifted her face and brushed a kiss across his mouth. Soft. Barely there. He nearly stumbled. His heart turned over. It was impossible not to respond to her. No matter how hard he tried, she was already inside him. There was little point in fighting it anymore, he was just thrashing around, making a fool out of himself. Love had found him in the form of a small, ethereal woman who didn’t have the sense to run.

  “I’m not alone anymore.” He managed to get the words out around the lump in his throat, sounding more gruff than pleased. “I’ve got you.”

  She laughed softly and nuzzled his throat. “That’s my grumpy man. You always have the best declarations of affection. You make me sound like a pain in the ass.”

  “You are a pain in the ass,” he admitted. “But you’re my pain in the ass.” He toed a chair into the deepest shadows and placed her in it, leaning down, one hand on either armrest to cage her in. His eyes met hers. She looked absolutely exhausted. “Don’t leave this chair for any reason. Don’t fall asleep. You have to stay alert and warn me if there’s trouble coming. It will be difficult, I know you’re tired, but I need you to do this.”

  She nodded. “Do you have a bottle of water? That will help.”

  “I won’t be long.” He pulled the bottle from the war bag and then kissed her gently. “Please stay here, Airiana.” His fingers found her hair of their own accord. He was so far gone that he couldn’t just walk away and take care of business. He detested leaving her when she looked so vulnerable.

  She touched his face. “I don’t think I could move if I had to. Just find us a place to rest. I’ll be fine.”

  “I’ve been here before. I can get us anything we need,” he said with confidence.

  He’d used the resort on three occasions over the past five years. All three times he’d been hunting and had used the resort as his base. He’d established his cover—a businessman from the United States, Max Walberg, and all three times, he’d been successful in ridding the world of three very dangerous men. One had been a Russian mobster, another a Colombian drug lord and the third had been a senator from the United States.

  The three men had all died of “accidents.” He was very good at slipping in and out of the shadows without being seen. And he was especially good at establishing a rapport with owners of small resorts.

  His clothes were worse for wear, but they were more damp than wet thanks to the warm wind and the long walk. He entered the tiny office. The family who owned the resort actually resided there and the office was in the front of their residence. The moment he entered a bell rang.

  Jorge Estrada never appeared to sleep. Maxim always arrived in the middle of the night, and Jorge always greeted him within minutes, fully dressed, alert and with a welcoming smile. Over the years Maxim had made certain to recommend the small resort to “friends,” and Jorge appreciated the business. Maxim was also a heavy tipper.

  “It’s been too long,” Maxim greeted the man. “How’s your family?” The resort was a family-run business with uncles, aunts and cousins helping out. Jorge had three beautiful little girls who sang songs as they followed their mother around.

  “Good. Good. But I don’t have your room ready. There was no reservation.” Jorge looked extremely distraught. He prided himself on his efficiency.

  “What?” Maxim looked shocked. “My secretary made all the arrangements. This has been a horrible day. I got married, Jorge. I’ve brought my bride here for our honeymoon. I told my secretary to make certain we had the honeymoon cabana.”

  Jorge looked more upset than ever, shaking his head.

  “We got in a car accident,” Maxim added. He held up his hand when Jorge looked as if he might have a stroke. “We’re both a little beat up but fine. We’re just tired and hungry and now this. Do you have anything open?”

  The honeymoon cabana was set apart on the beach. It was kept for big spenders, the jewel of the resort, and it was exactly what Maxim wanted. There were no other huts close, and he’d be able to see the enemy coming a mile away. He always carried money in his war bag, extra clothes and weapons, and in this case, the money would come in very handy.

  “I told my wife all about the honeymoon cabana. She’ll be disappointed, but she’ll understand.”

  “No. No. You must have it, Senor Max. There is no reservation until two nights from now. I can find something else for them.”

  “But this works out perfectly,” Max said, very happy, all smiles, pulling out his wallet and handing over a huge sum of money without so much as glancing at it. He was beaming. “We can’t stay more than a couple of days. That’s why it was so important to me; I’ve got another trip I have to make and I didn’t want her upset cutting our honeymoon so short. This is great, Jorge, thanks.”

  Jorge handed over the key. “Are you hungry?”

  “Anything would be fine, Jorge. You know me, a burrito will do the trick. Whatever you’ve got.”

  “What about your wife?”

  “Anything you have will be fine.”

  “I’ll bring you something in a half hour.”

  “That sounds great. Thanks.” He’d established Max Walberg’s easygoing personality five years earlier. The staff liked him and always went out of their way for him be
cause he never complained and he always thanked them both verbally and with his money.

  Maxim made his way back to Airiana slowly, his eyes finding her in the darkness. For a moment, he had to stop, love overwhelming him. It rose out of nowhere, that intense emotion he never thought he’d feel. She was curled up like she often did, her knees drawn up in the chair, her chin on top of them. She was alert, just as she promised. Every few moments she’d lift the bottle of water to her mouth and take a sip to keep herself awake.

  “Everything is set, baby,” he said as he approached her.

  She looked up at him and smiled. Just that. A smile. His heart reacted with a strange twist that was actually painful. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever encountered—and it had little to do with her looks.

  “How far is it to our cabana?”

  “Honeymoon cabana,” he emphasized.

  She lifted her head with an effort and pushed back her hair. “Wow. My dream honeymoon. I’m looking like a drowned rat, and you’re all perfect again.”

  His eyebrow shot up. “Perfect? It’s nice to know, when you aren’t thinking of kicking me, that you think I’m perfect.”

  She held up her arms, forgetting all of her former objections to being carried. She was evidently too tired to worry about appearances. She slid her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face against his throat.

  Maxim carried her to the honeymoon cabana, his heart pounding hard with every step. He hadn’t known a man could feel the way she made him feel. He hadn’t known he was capable of such an intensity of emotion.

  The cabana was built solidly, although the roof appeared to be straw and grass. The inside was nice, beautifully laid out for a man like him. The windows were large for views and he could see several quick exits should there be need. He set her down in the center of the room and looked her over.

  He’d never felt so possessive of anything—or anyone—in his life. In that moment, he realized his woman had less choice than he did. He would never let her go now that he’d made up his mind he would stay with her. He would love her with everything in him—and he would guard her with a ferocious passion that would probably drive her crazy.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve gotten us into?” he asked, still half angry that she could change his life in the blink of an eye.

  She smiled. “Right now, Maxim, all I want to do is lie down and sleep. Can we talk about relationships later? If that’s what you’re referring to.”

  “Come here. You need to get in a warm shower. Jorge will bring food in twenty minutes and he’s usually very prompt. I’ll want you to stay out of sight until he’s gone. I need to check your feet again, make certain there isn’t sand in those cuts.”

  She took the two steps to him, standing in front of him, looking up with so much trust in her eyes he nearly groaned. “I used air to cushion them as we walked.”

  “Damn it, honey. You’re killing me.” He didn’t tell her why. What was there to say? He’d already made up his mind she was his, and he was taking her whether he deserved her or not. Whether it was a good idea or not. “Lift up your arms, I’m going to take your shirt off.”

  Airiana’s sky blue eyes met his. She blinked and complied with his command, allowing him to tug off the wet, salty T-shirt, revealing the massive bruises over her ribs where Gorya had kicked her. He expected her to cover her breasts, but she didn’t. She just stood in front of him without a murmur while his hands dropped to the fastening of her jeans.

  He had been thinking only of getting her warm, clean and in bed where she could rest, but seeing the look of absolute trust sent an unexpected rush of heat through his veins. Trust such as hers was a precious gift few ever received in their lifetime. She’d gone into the sea with him when she didn’t know how to swim. She’d shot more than one man for him. He’d given her a crash course in using a tank beneath the water and she’d been terrified, but she’d done it.

  Without a doubt, if he insisted on having sex with her, no matter how exhausted she was—or afraid—she would give herself to him. He could see her consent—her gift—in her eyes. She’d been showing him all along what love was and he hadn’t gotten it. He had wanted to reach for it with both hands, yet he hadn’t, and that hadn’t stopped her from giving to him the same unconditional trust that she was giving him now.

  She offered him the world, right there in her blue eyes, and he’d thrown it back in her face. His offer to her had been more of an order, a command. Her choices were gone—taken from her—almost as though, without realizing it, he was retaliating against her. He’d been arrogant, so certain he knew better than anyone else, yet truthfully, he’d been afraid to love, to have so much to lose all over again. He’d been striking out at the person who had offered him a priceless gift instead of treasuring her.

  He shimmied her wet jeans down her legs, wincing when he saw the stark bruises there as well. It was a wonder she’d walked so long. He’d sustained bruises like that during fights and knew firsthand how painful movement could be.

  He stripped and threw his clothes on top of hers. The resort had a laundry service and perhaps they could save the items. At the moment, he only cared about getting Airiana into a shower to get the sea off of her and then into a bed to rest.

  Taking her hand, he led her into the bathroom, surprisingly luxurious for a cabana. The water was warm immediately and he tugged to bring her under the spray. When he glanced down at her, she was frowning. His heart jumped.

  “What is it, honey?” he asked gently.

  “You’re hurt. In a hundred places.” She reached up to touch his arm just below where one of the bullets had kissed him.

  “Nothing fatal. That’s always what counts.” He forced himself to sound cheerful. She looked battered—completely battered—with bruises coming up all over her body. “If someone saw you right now, I’d be arrested for domestic violence.”

  She glanced down at her body, looking a little shocked. “We both look terrible. I should have checked you out instead of feeling sorry for myself, Maxim. I’m sorry. I could have at least used your first aid kit to close some of the bigger wounds.”

  He used the shampoo on her hair to give himself something to do besides kiss her, because he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to frame her face with his hands and taste her lips, pouring everything he ever was or ever could be into her mouth. He wanted to crush her body close to his, hold her in his arms, feel her softness melting into him and protect her with a fierceness only he was capable of. Instead, he massaged her scalp and then rinsed suds and salt from her thick platinum hair.

  “I’ve had worse, Airiana. I might look bad, but all the wounds are fairly superficial,” he assured.

  She leaned into him, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were both naked. He hadn’t considered that, as tired as he was, as exhausted as he knew she was, he’d become aroused. He had far too much discipline for that, so why the hell was his body not cooperating?

  Her arms slipped around his waist and she clung to him as he rinsed her hair a second time, after using the resort’s conditioner. She was short, far shorter than him, and he found his shaft resting between her small breasts. Her body was soft and warm, and the spray of water didn’t help. She didn’t seem to mind—or notice. Maybe she was just too damned tired, but he had one hell of a hard-on and he wasn’t a small man.

  “Airiana?” She was killing him. He scrubbed the salt from his own hair and body. She didn’t move, but stayed wrapped tightly around him, holding him to her.

  “Mmm?”

  He closed his eyes briefly. She sounded drowsy. Sexy. The last thing he needed. He must be far more tired than he realized to have so little discipline.

  “All right, baby,” he said, gritting his teeth. “We need to get you in bed.”

  “I’ll just sleep here, thank you,” she replied.

  He snapped off the water
with a little more force than necessary. He didn’t mind if she slept on him. His shaft was quite happy in its resting place, although his brain was filling with erotic images that would have shocked his partner.

  “The bed will be more comfortable,” he promised and grabbed a towel to hitch around his waist and a second one to dry her off. “Jorge is going to be here any time with our meal. Let’s get you on the bed. We’ll drop the mosquito netting and wrap air around the bed. He knows me as Max Walberg. If someone comes by asking questions, he won’t be able to describe you and he won’t even consider we’re the couple everyone is looking for.”

  She didn’t answer him, and he swept her into his arms, cradling her close to his chest—to his heart. He might not be able to say sweet words to her aloud without feeling foolish, but he could feel them when she was this close to him. They had two days to recoup before the honeymoon cabana would be claimed by another couple. There was no way he was going to be able to keep his hands off of her for two days. Not and lie beside her in that bed.

  She turned to the pillows the moment he set her down. Maxim took his time examining her feet before wrapping them again. He swept a cover over her body and dropped the heavy netting. Even from the bed the view was fantastic, the waves looking close as they rose and fell, white foam curling invitingly. He glanced toward the main resort to see Jorge coming.

  He hadn’t taken the time to stash a few weapons around the rooms—very unlike him. The sight of her body so bruised and battered really bothered him. He dragged on a shirt to hide the wounds on his own body and opened the door, towel drying his hair as he greeted the owner.

  “Thank you, Jorge. We’re starving.” Maxim stepped back to allow Jorge to enter and put the tray on the table. He kept his hands free, although he felt fairly safe with the owner. There had never been any indication that the man was anything than what he appeared. Still, Maxim wasn’t a trusting man and less so now that Airiana was with him.