30DaystoSyn (39 page)

He glanced at the file she’d set aside. It
seemed as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it. He
searched her eyes then nodded. “Of course,” he said then put the file she’d
handed him back in his briefcase and stood. He gave her one last, commiserating
look. “I really am sorry.”

She nodded, the tears choking her.

She did not walk him to the door. She held
in the misery and the hurt and the deep sense of betrayal until she heard his
car start then she covered her face with her hands and sank to the floor.

* * * * *

“I’ve got a surprise,” he said as he drew
her into his arms. “The chopper is waiting to take us to the airport.”

It was all she could do not to stiffen as
he held her against him. “Sounds mysterious,” she said, trying to sound as
normal as possible.

“I’ve got a special evening planned for
us.”

As soon as his lips touched hers she
thought of Judas in the garden and the betraying kiss that had netted the traitor
thirty pieces of silver. She almost laughed thinking what her betrayer would be
paying her for her kiss in return.

“God you smell good,” he said, nuzzling her
hair. His arms banded tightly around her. “You do things to me that should be
illegal.”

“It looks like rain,” she said, easing out
of his arms. “Should I get a jacket?”

“That’s not a bad idea,” he said.

They were standing in the alcove of the
apartment Jono had moved her to when the press had invaded the home she’d
rented for so long. She went to the closet and took out a waterproof jacket.
When she returned to him, he offered her his arm.

“Your chariot awaits, milady,” he said.
“Don’t worry about the reporters. There are only two out there and Kit’s men
will see to them.”

They’d found out where she lived two days
ago and when he’d dropped her off that morning, all of a sudden they had
multiplied like rabbits after he’d gone.

She reluctantly hooked her arm through his
and he took her to the Veyron. As chariots went, it was certainly top of the
line and the most expensive. He helped her inside, shut the door and went
around to the driver’s side.

Her insides were quivering as she looked at
her watch. It was just a little past five p.m. and he said they would be at
their destination by seven. She had seven more hours with him. At the thought
her heart ached and twisted inside her chest. She wanted to bury her face in
her hands and sob as she had earlier in the day. When he got into the car and
reached for the key she wanted to throw her arms around him and beg him not to
throw her away.

She loved him, she thought as she looked
over at his strong profile. Loved him so much it hurt. He was such a handsome
man yet he had a boyish allure. His crooked smile made her melt all over. She
loved the man but she adored the boy in him. His wicked sense of humor, his
thoughtfulness might well be contrived but they were qualities she admired and
he utilized them to perfection. He was going to break her heart into a million
pieces.

“You’re awful quiet,” he said as he turned
to look behind him as he backed out of her driveway.

“Just tired, I guess,” she said, forcing a
smile she did not feel.

He shifted into gear, casting her a
sideways glance. “I kept you awake. I’m sorry.”

She had to look away from his earnest face.
It cut her to the quick to see the feigned admission of guilt in his eyes. He
was as two-faced as they came yet she loved him with all her heart.

“I thought I’d go with you to visit Drew
tomorrow,” he said.

She was looking out the window. What he
said made her close her eyes. She now knew there would be no tomorrow for her.
He would be rid of her tonight.

“I’d like that,” she said quietly. “He
would too. Drew likes you. He asks about you all the time. He may not remember
me, but he remembers you.” She hoped he would continue seeing her brother but
she very much doubted that would be the case.

“I like him and I asked Mrs. Holloway-Lutz
about the reason for that and she said it was because he didn’t know me before
the accident. His memories before then might have vanished but he has no
trouble making them now.”

“I guess that makes sense,” she said.

They had pulled onto the interstate and he
merged into the lane then reached for her hand.

“I am really looking forward to tonight,”
he said, squeezing her fingers.

She supposed he was. He would be ridding
himself of her tonight.

Her silence was beginning to concern him.
He kept glancing over at her as he drove out to the airport. In the glow from
the dashboard lights her face looked lost, so devoid of expression it frightened
him.

“Baby, are you all right?” he asked.

She looked at him and there was nothing but
emptiness staring back at him. “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” She eased her
hand from under his.

“Just asking,” he said. Even her voice was
without inflection. It was almost as though he were talking to a cybot, barren
of heart and soul. “Is everything okay with Drew?”

“Drew is fine,” she replied. “Thank you for
asking.”

“Thank you for asking?” he repeated. He
looked over at her but she had already turned her attention to the passenger
window once again, effectively shutting him out.

He briefly closed his eyes and felt a
moment of utter panic. The sour taste of fear was hovering in his esophagus. He
was terrified she was going to take the check and walk out of his life. That
thought stabbed at him like a red-hot blade. He didn’t want to lose her.

He couldn’t. She had become as dear to him
as the air he breathed and he wasn’t sure he would—or could—survive without her
now.

He knew he didn’t want to.

Sitting on the private runway was a sleek,
black jet. Eight portholes gleamed with muted gold light along the body and on
the tail was the MI logo. The upswept tips on the ends of the wings reminded
her of something from a
Star Trek
TV show.

“It’s a Gulfstream G650,” he told her.
“It’ll do Mach 0.925. We can fly seven thousand nautical miles nonstop. I’ve
taken her over to Dubai several times. It’s choice, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

She felt his gaze hard on her. “That’s all
you’ve got to say about it?”

“Boys need their toys?” she inquired. She
was watching two male crew members in black-and-silver uniforms boarding the
jet. Pilot and copilot.

“I guess that put me in my place in the
grand scheme of things, eh?” he asked, his voice a tad sharp.

She shrugged and heard him sigh heavily.

He stopped the car, turned off the ignition
then got out without another word. She saw him wave at the last crewmember
climbing the jet gangway. The woman was tall and willowy with dark hair pinned
into a French twist at the back of her head and a figure lovingly molded into
her flight attendant uniform.

“I wonder if you’ve fucked her,” she
whispered as he opened her door.

“Eh?” he questioned, extending his hand to
help her out of the car.

“Just talking to myself,” she replied. As
much as she hated to touch him she took his hand.

“They say that’s the first sign of
senility,” he joked.

She glanced up at him but didn’t reply. She
pulled her hand free and a tight frown replaced his smile of a moment before.

“There’s something bothering you,” he said
then turned his head to look at the jet for the engines were spinning to life.

“I told you I’m fine,” she said, a bit
snappier than she intended.

“Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you,”
he said.

“Where are we going?” she asked as if she
didn’t already know.

“Savannah.”

Hearing him say the destination was like
having the heart torn out of her body. She nodded. “How long will it take?”

“Flight time is fifty-seven minutes,” he
said and she could tell he was getting annoyed with her. He ushered her to the
jet with his hand at the small of her back. He only removed it as they climbed
the steps to the open hatchway.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. McGregor,” the
beautiful woman standing beside the hatch greeted him.

“Evening, Maven,” he said, removing his
jacket. “Miss Wynth will be traveling with us tonight.”

“Very good, sir,” the woman said taking his
jacket from him.

He helped her take off her own jacket then
handed it to the flight attendant.

The flight attendant’s green eyes bored
into her with dislike—sealing the answer to the question in her mind as to
whether or not the Kiwi had slept with the woman. “I hope you have a pleasant
trip, Miss Wynth.” The coolness in her gaze belied the warmth in her cultured
voice. She flicked those cold orbs to her boss. “Would you like a drink before
departure, Mr. McGregor?”

He looked at her and she shook her head.
The last thing she needed on an empty stomach and with such a heavy lump
sitting in her chest was booze.

“No thanks, Maven,” he said and put his
hand to the small of her back once again to escort her to their seats.

The interior of the jet was luxuriously
decadent. The carpet was black and the upholstery on the wide seats was a
medium gray though the sofa at the rear of the cabin was done in black.
Settling into the port side seat, she felt as though she were being cradled in
a marshmallow. The leather was so comfortable she couldn’t help but sigh.

“Nice, huh?” he asked, taking the seat
across the aisle from her. “The sofa makes into a double bed.”

She looked at him and he wagged his brows.
She looked away from him to stare out the porthole.

“Fuck, woman,” he snapped. “What the
hell
is your problem tonight?”

The pilot announced they would be taking
off shortly—saving her the need to reply. She reached down to buckle her seat
beat as instructed. By the time they were taxing down the runway, tears were
falling down her cheeks.

Something was very wrong, he thought. She
had her head turned away from him and was sitting with her hands tightly
clenched in her lap. He doubted she was afraid of flying so it had to be
another cause. Her silence, the way she avoided his eyes, the tenseness of her
body when he touched her—all of it scared the shit out of him. She was acting
as though she were already out of his life and the very thought of that happening
put the fear of God into him.

“Melina?” he queried but she didn’t look at
him. “Have I done something to make you mad?”

She shook her head.

“Did I forget to do something?”

“No.”

“
Should
I do something? Just tell me
and I—”

She looked around at him and he could tell
she’d been crying for her eyes were red and swollen. He started to unbuckle his
belt but she held up her hand.

“Please don’t.” She turned away again.

Now she wasn’t only scaring him, she was
tearing him apart. She didn’t want to talk to him, to look at him, and now she
didn’t want him to touch her. She’d been crying. He was afraid he knew what
that meant and he didn’t like it.

Not one bit.

He wanted to hold her. He wanted to make
whatever it was that was making her sad, to pull away from him go away. If he
lost her…

“Melina, look at me. Please?”

She did as he asked.

“Baby, if I’ve screwed up somehow, I want
to know,” he said. “I’ll make it right. I swear to you, I will.”

“You can’t make everything right, Kiwi,”
she said. “You can’t just throw money at people and expect things to go like
you want them to.”

“What have I done?” he persisted.

“You haven’t done anything,” she said.

He unbuckled his seat belt and squatted
down beside her chair. “I must have because you’re treating me like I’m a piece
of gum stuck to your shoe.”

For the first time he saw emotion in her
eyes. “I don’t mean to,” she said. “It’s just I didn’t want to come on this
trip.”

He felt a glimmer of hope. “Why didn’t you
tell me?”

“I didn’t want to spoil what you had planned,”
she said but the way she said it made the hair stand up on his arms.

“What I had planned? What is it you think I
planned?”

“You’ll have a limo waiting at the
airport,” she said. “It will take us to a private marina where there’s a yacht
waiting to take us out on the water for a dinner cruise. It’s what you do with
all your women, isn’t it?”

A tremor of anger spread through him. “Who
told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “Isn’t that
what you do?”

He wanted to lie but obviously she already
knew it was true. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve brought women down here before. I
have a condo on Hilton Head and I come here a lot but you’ll be the first woman
to see that condo, to sleep there.”

“Tell me the truth, Kiwi. Am I going to
sleep there tonight?” she asked, studying his face.

He had the ring in his pocket. He was going
to wait until the sun rose over the water to kneel at her feet and ask her to
marry him. He wanted the bright rays of the new morning—the beginning of a new
month, a new life—to shine down on them.

“Will I be sleeping at your condo
tonight
?”
she questioned.

“No,” he said. “Not tonight.”

She smiled but the expression did not reach
her eyes. “I didn’t think so.”

“Do you want me to have Capt. Clarke turn
the plane around?”

She shook her head. “No, it needs to play
out as it should.”

“What does that mean?” he asked.

“Mr. McGregor, you need to return to your
seat. We’ll be landing in a few minutes,” Maven told him as she came to stand
directly beside him.

He looked up to shoot her a nasty look for
interrupting him but—as usual—she was blithely unaware of anything save her
exceptionally good looks, which had gotten her the job in the first place.