“Did you know that private planes are nearly as deadly as cars?” she said loud enough so the whole plane could hear her.
“That’s not true,” Amo retorted before looking over at Dante. “Is it?”
“Oh, it is,” Nadia confirmed as she finally clicked her seat belt together before continuing, “Loads more people die flying private than commercial.”
“You’re lying. She’s lying, right?” Amo asked, looking at his boss. You could practically see the nerves as he loosened the tie around his neck.
“Just Googled it.” A younger voice came from behind them, one belonging to a face that must have been plastered to his phone. “She’s not.”
Amo was no longer loosening his tie. He ripped it off his neck.
Taking the slack from her seat belt, she gave it a good, dramatic tug so it practically dug into her organs. “But, if you think about it, if something happens to your car, well, at least you have a chance of fixing it. Something goes wrong up there”—she pointed to the sky—“well, good luck fixing that.” Letting the tip of her finger fall in a decrescendo, she whistled as if it was an airplane about to crash.
“Ms. Brooks,” Dante called her name, as if in warning, while he reached over to cover her hand with his, “enough.”
Nadia drifted her eyes to the strong hand over hers.
CLICK.
The sound of Amo’s seatbelt finally clicking had her senses returning as she ripped her hand out of Dante’s.
She gave the bodyguard in front of her one hellish look, now that he had killed any hopes of her getting off this plane.
It was worth a shot.
Four
Fucking Florida
Nadia didn’t know who was more grateful—she or Amo—when the plane finally touched the ground and slammed to a screeching halt. It actually might’ve been Amo, since he was the first to stand and leave the second the door was opened. She would be proud of herself for getting inside the Caruso’s bodyguard’s head if she weren’t still in shock from doing the one thing she swore she would never do. She had still yet to even unbuckle her seat belt.
Again, the only thing she still saw of Dante’s son was his back as he followed behind Amo.
“Are you coming?”
Nadia blinked a few times before looking at Dante, who was standing over her.
“Well?” His voice was as cold as his stance. She could practically see the agitation she was causing him by having to tag along.
“You know I don’t want to be here, either. So, if I’m annoying you, remember that you only have yourself to blame for the situation you put me in,” Nadia told him, point blank.
“I already apologized, Ms. Brooks, for the circumstances of why you are here, and I only ever offer my apologies once.” He spoke as bluntly as she had. “And your presence wouldn’t be half as annoying if you weren’t trying to place your irrational fear on one of the last few good men I have left.”
Nadia had figured that her constantly asking if the turbulence was normal when they had been up in the air was getting under Dante’s skin, especially when Amo had finally taken over the job of asking.
It’s not my fault the big ones are usually the biggest scaredy cats. The big buffoon’s fear just happened to be the same as hers.
“If you’d like to stay on the plane, however, be my guest,” he kindly offered from over his shoulder as he headed toward the exit.
Asshole.
* * *
The woman had about five seconds to get her ass off the plane before he turned around and dragged her out.
Luckily for her, he heard the sound of the seat belt unclicking.
The small smile that played on his lips went unbeknownst even to him.
* * *
It was déjà vu all over again when she got into the back seat of another town car with Dante. Amo and Leo had already taken their places in the driver’s and passenger’s seats while the trunk was finally shut as the last of the suitcases was loaded by the small airport staff, just like it had been unloaded in Kansas City.
Long way from there now.
The sticky, muggy air that was practically suffocating her reminded her that she wasn’t in Kansas City anymore. The bright city lights from the tall buildings were now replaced with palm trees, while the smog from the city was replaced with salty air. She could practically feel her slick, silky black hair rising from the humidity.
Florida, she huffed. The disdain for the state that wasn’t hers could even be heard in her mind. Nadia had practically forgotten that getting on the airplane ended up in a completely different destination, and it hadn’t been until the pilot had spoken the name of where they were landing, followed by the weather, that she’d remembered that fact.
“What?” Dante asked.
Nadia turned her head from the window. “Huh?”