Lethal Consequences (25 page)

Stomach swirling, Olivia unlatched her seat belt and gripped the back of the captain’s chairs as she made her way down the aisle toward him. “Landon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing.” He downed the shot, then poured himself a second. Her gaze darted to the bottle. Definitely whiskey. Jameson.

Bullshit it was nothing. And she was tired of being treated like an afterthought. “Either tell me what’s really going on, or I’ll have them take us right back to Naples.”

“You won’t do that.”

The calm timbre to his voice only set her more on edge. She watched as he downed the second shot. And the way he still refused to look at her, the way he was acting like all of this was no big deal, shot her temper right through the roof. “Watch me.”

She turned for the cockpit, but he caught her arm before she got two steps away. “Stay away from the pilot, Olivia. Just sit down and stay out of trouble.”

“Why? Does
he
know what you’re not telling me?”

Landon dropped his arm as if just touching her burned his fingertips and frowned down at her. “I’ve told you everything.”

“No, I think you’ve told me what you want me to hear. I know when you’re hiding something, and you’re definitely doing it now. This concerns me. I have a right to know what’s really going on.”

A vein in his temple pulsed. “It wouldn’t concern you at all if you’d listened to me and stayed the hell away like I tried to get you to do for months.”

Her eyes widened. “So this is all my fault now?”

“Yeah,” he said, his face growing taut, his jaw hard. “It is your fucking fault. There’s a reason I never went to visit you. A reason I told you we needed to stop freakin’ texting. Because you’re not tough enough to deal with the shitty world I live in. If you’d stayed in Idaho where you belong, none of this would have ever happened.”

Disbelief whipped through her.
Where she belonged?
He hadn’t actually just said that, had he? “I think I’ve proved I’m plenty strong. News flash, Landon. I don’t have to kick someone’s ass to be able to deal with what’s going on.” She nodded toward the open whiskey bottle on the counter. “You’re the one who’s obviously got coping issues here. Not me.”

She moved for her chair, but he blocked her. “I didn’t ask you to go to Barcelona. I didn’t ask you to fucking follow me.”

“Oh, so now I’m the pathetic puppy dog? You’re the one who followed me last night, or did you forget?”

“No, I didn’t forget. Just as I didn’t forget it was a mistake. I shouldn’t have gone after you last night. Hell, I shouldn’t have opened the hotel room door in Barcelona when you knocked. No, what I should have done was just fuck that woman I took back to my room and forgotten about you like I planned.”

A sharp pain lanced Olivia’s chest, and the air left her lungs, as quick as if he’d punched her. She took a step back, away from him, and every muscle in her body flared as if it were suddenly on fire.

“Well,” she managed when she could find her voice, “I’m sorry I got between you and some random slut. I’m sure you and the venereal-disease-wielding terrorist would have been perfectly happy together. Maybe if you go back to Sardinia, you can find the bitch.”

She shoved past him, this time pushing her arm and shoulder into him hard enough to knock him out of her way, and marched toward the cockpit. She was happy when he didn’t try to stop her. Happy when the door handle turned and she moved into the brightly lit space without him following.

The pilot—she couldn’t remember his name—turned and looked up at her. “Ms. Wolfe. Anything I can help you with?”

She glanced from the pilot to the navigator, who was also looking at her with a curious expression. She’d never been in a cockpit before. On commercial—normal—flights they kept them locked off. But then nothing about her current situation was normal, now was it? “No. Not really. I was just wondering how long our flight time is.”

The navigator checked his charts, then looked back at her. “ETA is roughly eight hours. Sit back, have a drink, maybe watch a movie, and relax. We’ll be wheels down before you know it.”

Relax. Right. Like that was possible. Olivia clenched her jaw and drew a calming breath, refusing to go back into the main cabin just yet. He wished he’d fucked someone else? He wished they’d never met? Suddenly she was wishing the same damn thing.

She glanced toward the jump seat to her right, then to the pilot. “If it’s okay with both of you, would you mind if I sat up here for a while and watched? Aviation totally fascinates me.”

The pilot lifted his brows. “Bores the shit out of me, but sure. Have a seat. My name’s Tony, this is Ben. We’re always up for an attractive woman’s company.”

Olivia pulled the seat down and moved the straps out of the way, then sat.
See that? Fuck you, Landon.
She didn’t need him. She didn’t need anyone.

Son of a bitch . . .

Landon dropped his head, leaned back against the seat behind him, and rubbed a hand over his face. As if he hadn’t already fucked things up enough, now he’d made Olivia feel like shit.

Nerves gathered in his chest, tightening his muscles, making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t sure why he’d said those things. Okay, yeah, that was bullshit. He knew why. Because he was a total asshat. Because she’d dug her way in and gotten closer than he’d ever let anyone else get. And because that fact scared the shit out of him. Fucked with his head. Shut down every rational brain cell when he thought of her not walking away from this.

He dropped his hand when he realized it was shaking. Curling his fingers into a fist, he flexed and relaxed his hand, waiting for it to calm the raging anger and fear inside him. Waiting for Olivia to come back out so he could apologize.

He looked toward the cockpit door. When long minutes passed and she still didn’t return, he swallowed his pride and went after her.

Laughter echoed from beyond the door. Those nerves drew tighter as he pulled it open and looked inside.

The navigator turned his direction and grinned. “It’s party central in here. Y’all are really strange, ’cause I’d rather be out there in those comfortable chairs than stuck in here with this guy.”

Ben pointed his thumb toward the pilot. Tony frowned and flipped him the bird.

They were good guys, friends of Ryder’s, but Landon wasn’t here for them.

He looked down at Olivia, sitting in the jump seat to his right, her arms crossed over her chest, her gaze fixed on the instruments panel past him, trying hard not to look his direction.

She was pissed. She had every right to be.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked quietly.

A muscle in her jaw ticked. “I’m pretty sure you said everything that needed to be said.”

“Livy,” he sighed. “Five minutes, okay?”

Tony and Ben were both silent. Landon wasn’t sure what Olivia had told them, but he didn’t care. He had to fix this.

“Fine.” She pushed to her feet. “Five minutes.”

She moved past him back into the cabin. And, feeling like a complete asshole, Landon pulled the door closed and followed.

“Look,” Olivia said when she reached the first row of captain’s chairs. “Ben said we’ve got like eight hours. So just say what you want to say and get it over with. I’m tired and would like to take a nap before we get there.”

He captured her hand. Surprise filled her eyes when she turned to look at him, but he didn’t let it stop him. He moved into her, pulled her close so her body brushed his, wrapped his arms around her, and closed his eyes.

She tensed against him, tried to push away, but he held on tighter, not letting her go.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m a total dickhead. I didn’t mean those things. I’m just . . . I’m afraid, okay? I’ve never been so afraid. It’s my fault. All of this is my fault.”

She was silent. But slowly, her muscles relaxed, and her fists unclenched against his shirt until her palm was lying right over his heart. “No, it’s not.”

He held her closer, knowing she was just trying to make him feel better. Knowing he didn’t deserve it. “Yes, it is. If I’d been strong enough to keep my distance . . . If I’d just stopped texting you, none of this would have happened. But I couldn’t because . . . Because you were like this ray of sunshine in my dark, dreary life, and I . . . I wanted you. I’ve wanted you ever since you opened your eyes in that hospital room in Seattle. You’re stronger than I am, Livy. So much stronger. I lied when I said that. I don’t know why I said it. You haven’t once freaked out on me, and I’ve lost it several times now. I won’t be able to handle it if something happens to you. I can’t lose you. I won’t . . .”

Words clogged in his throat. He sifted one hand into her hair and lowered his face to her neck, holding her close, letting her heat and warm breath infuse his skin, just needing this. Needing her.

“Dammit, Landon.” Her hands moved around his waist. Her fingertips slid up his spine. She turned her lips against his throat. “You won’t lose me. You can’t. Just don’t shut me out.”

He didn’t know how to stop himself from doing that. Distance was the element that had kept him alive for thirty-two years. But in that moment, as he held her and soaked her in, he knew why the DIA kept the men in his unit isolated. Because caring, loving someone, did make you weak. It impaired your judgment. It made you vulnerable in all the ways someone in his line of work couldn’t be vulnerable.

Her lips pressed gently against his throat, and all the reasons he couldn’t have her, all the reasons they shouldn’t be together disappeared in the ether.

He drew back, lowered his head, and captured her lips. She groaned and lifted to his kiss, her fingertips tightening against his back, her warm, slick tongue sliding over his until all the blood in his body shot straight into his groin.

No hesitation. No more anger. She was stronger than him. So much stronger it blew him away every time he thought of it. She had every reason to hate him, and yet she was showering him with all the love and warmth he didn’t deserve but couldn’t seem to live without.

His fingers curled in her hair, and, cupping her scalp, he tipped her head and kissed her deeper, tasting her sweetness, her fear, the same damn longing he’d been wrestling with for hours. His other hand slid down to her waist, then up under her T-shirt. His fingertips brushed the soft skin of her lower spine, and she moaned against his tongue, pushing her breasts into his chest.

This was what he wanted. Just her. No more worry. No more fear. When he was with her, he felt human. He felt normal. When he was with her, part of him actually believed he deserved to be happy.

He tipped his head the other way and kissed her again, sliding his tongue along her teeth, nipping at her bottom lip, dipping in for a sinful, erotic taste that made him light-headed. His other hand slid from her hair to her waist and then up under her shirt to skim the soft, soft skin of her belly. She sucked in a breath. Her hands moved down his sides and up under his shirt. Tingles rushed all over his skin wherever she touched.

He wanted her naked. Needed to make some part of this up to her. Needed her. Any part of her he could get.

He pulled his mouth from hers, desperate now to feel her skin against his, and yanked the shirt over her head. Dropping it on the floor, he found her mouth again and reached for the hook on the back of her bra.

“Landon . . .” Her voice was breathy. His name a plea on her lips as they brushed his, the sound sending his libido raging even higher. Her silky fingers darted up and under his shirt, and then she pulled back from his mouth, tugging his shirt up and off as she stepped back toward the long sofa behind her that ran the length of one whole wall. Desire filled her emerald eyes. The same searing heat rushing through his veins. The same damn yearning shutting down his brain, making him forget everything but her. “Come here.”

She reached for him, and he was powerless to do anything but give her what she wanted. His hand grazed her shoulder, sliding her bra strap free. He watched as the soft cotton garment fell to the floor, revealing the plump, perfect breasts he’d kissed and sucked last night. The ones he wanted to taste again right now.

“God, you are perfect. Perfect and so damn beautiful.” He stepped into her, slanted his mouth over hers once more, and kissed her deeply as he cupped her right breast in his hand and brushed his thumb over her nipple.

A shudder ran through her. Her warm, slick tongue teased his and he repeated the motion, while he lifted his other hand to her neglected breast and did the same. The tips of her nipples grew taut and firm against his fingers. Blood raged in his cock as he dragged his lips from her mouth across her jaw, then worked his way down her throat, desperate to make her feel good.

“Mm, Landon. I love that.”

And he loved the sound of his name on her lips. Loved the breathy cadence of her voice. Her eyes slid closed. She tipped her head back. He dragged his tongue over her collarbone and groaned himself as he lifted her breast in his hand and drew it toward his mouth.

Soft. Sweet. He laved his tongue over her nipple, loving the way she arched into him. Loving that she didn’t even care that the pilot and navigator were only feet away behind the cockpit door. Loving that she needed him so much she didn’t even notice.