Clouds everywhere. Fluffy and thick. Floating in the air.
I screamed.
Calvin’s hands were on me then. “It’s okay,” he said quietly into my ear. “It’s okay, Robyn. You’re safe.”
“Get off me.” I struggled, but the seatbelt kept me pinned down.
I was on an airplane. A private plane. Small and comfortable—lavish even. Calvin sat in the seat next to mine, and an attractive young woman sat up toward the front near the cockpit, frowning back at me as I fought.
She didn’t stand or make a move to help.
Why wasn’t she trying to help me?
“If you can’t calm down, I’ll sedate you again.”
I stared at him in terror. My heart raced wildly.
The blackness.
“You drugged me.”
“I did.” He tilted his head. He looked alien and beautiful and serene. “You gave me no other choice.”
“I told you no. You could’ve respected that.”
“I didn’t.”
“Let go of me.” I shoved his hands away and looked at the hostess. “Excuse me? Excuse me, can you please help?”
She stood, walked over—
And pulled a curtain shut, cutting her off from our conversation.
I gaped, stunned.
Calvin laughed. “My people are extremely well paid. How do you think you ended up here like this? You think a normal flight would allow an unconscious girl on board? My family owns this plane, that girl, and the pilots. You’re completely safe, but you’re in my world now.”
“You need to rethink the meaning of the word safe, you psycho.” I leaned back and squeezed my eyes shut. I still felt heavy and weak. I couldn’t fight him even if I wanted to.
I couldn’t fight him even if I was at full strength.
The realization hit me in the gut. He had me now and I was at his mercy. Calvin, terrifying, gorgeous Calvin, the author of the letters that both excited and tormented me. I hung on every word, obsessed over each and every line, and felt an overwhelming sense of revulsion. I hated myself for loving the attention and hated him for lavishing me with his obsession.
He lapsed into silence. I hated the way he watched me, like every move I made brought him so much joy. I was his favorite movie, playing on repeat, just for him.
The bastard. I was like a toy.
I stared out the window and tried to think.
We were flying to Riga. It was dark out, which meant—it was still Thursday? It couldn’t have been more than a few hours later.
There had to be a way out of this.
“I took your phone,” Calvin said conversationally. “I packed you some things. I hope they fit, but we’ll see. Might be better if they don’t.” He seemed extremely pleased. “I know this isn’t ideal. I mean, I don’t exactly want to have to drug and drag my future wife around all the time, but—”
“I’m not your future wife,” I snapped, anger getting the best of me.
I was trapped on a plane with this man. He was dangerous, and he’d already proved that he was willing to drug me to get his way.
He might be willing to do even worse things if I provoked him too much.
I took steadying breaths. I had to keep calm. I had to think.
“I know this is a lot,” he said quietly, with just a hint of contrition. I almost believed him. “I wanted to do this the right way. Invite you like a gentleman. Give you every opportunity to come along on your own. But you refused, and now here we are.”
“A gentleman doesn’t drug people.”
He sighed and spread his hands. “Gentleman was the wrong word. I’m far from a gentleman.” He leaned closer, showing teeth. “Is that what you want? Someone nice? You won’t get that with me, Robyn.”
“I won’t get anything with you.”
He lingered, so close. His lips were parted, and I almost wanted to jerk my head forward and bite down hard. I could rip him to shreds, make him bleed—but that wouldn’t help at all.
It’d only make things worse.
He pulled back and stood. “Do you want anything? Something to drink?”
“Bathroom.”
He gestured. “Right there. Go ahead.”
I hesitated. I sensed a trap. But I was already stuck on this plane with nowhere to run.
Which he was intensely aware of.
I stood and slipped into the aisle. His body was close. Hulking and powerful.
I hurried to the bathroom, slipped inside, and locked the door.
It was the nicest airplane bathroom I’d ever seen. It was more like a real hotel bathroom with gold-plated appliances and stone countertops. Everything gleamed with a perfect polish.
I stared at myself in the mirror.
I looked like hell. Bags under my eyes, hair a frizzy mess. I was haggard and exhausted.
I wanted to scream.
There was nowhere to go. I tried to pry a panel off the wall, but it didn’t budge. Some crazy part of my brain thought I could sneak into the belly of the plane and survive in there somehow, then slip away after landing—