Turbulent Waters (Billionaire Aviators 3)

Three good people had lost their lives while Nick had lived. Hadn’t she once heard that many drunk drivers survived because they were too wasted to tense up during an accident? It seemed to be the case with Nick.

But Chloe didn’t like to go into any situation blind, so she’d done her homework on the Armstrong family, had studied everything she’d been able to get her hands onâ??especially pertaining to Nick. She hadn’t found anything to back up her father’s convictions.

Guilt ate through Chloe. Guilt at losing her brother and not doing everything in her power to avenge his death, guilt at lying to a patientâ??even if that patient was guilty of murder, guilt at plotting the demise of a manâ??even if that man was not guilty of murder, guilt at doubting her father.

Chloe was torn. She hated that she felt attracted to this man who was supposed to be her enemy, and she hated that she had ulterior motives and that her oath to “do no harm” as a medical professional felt like a lie. She had to treat him as any other patient, had to leave him able to walkâ??even if he were doing so behind bars.

Chloe was so deep in thought, she nearly tripped over a branch when her phone rang, yanking her back to the present. Normally, she would ignore a call while she was exercising, as it cut off the music that helped motivate her to keep on moving, but that ring tone was her best friend, and Chloe needed to speak with her.

She answered just before the call was sent to voice mail. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Chloe had to quickly push the button on her ear set when her best friend’s voice boomed over the line.

“It’s a good thing you answered, because I was getting ready to hang up, which means I would have called back over and over and over again,” Dakota said.

Dakota and Chloe had met in elementary school and had been best friends from the very first moment they’d found out they shared a love of chocolate. Chloe had been shy and afraid, thanks in large part to her unaffectionate father. Dakota had been full of life. Against all odds, the two of them had sparked an immediate bond that hadn’t broken in all the years they’d known each other.

Chloe credited her sanity to Dakota. Without having her friend around, Chloe wasn’t sure what she would do most days. Dakota had gotten her through the best and worst of times, and the two had even stuck together through college.

“I’m running,” Chloe told her, but her steps faltered, and then she began moving slowly along the path she’d been on. She suddenly wasn’t in a hurry to return to the house. She needed to speak to her friend more than she needed to get Nick’s therapy started.

“Pssh, you are gorgeous and don’t need to run every stinking day,” Dakota told her.

“Says the woman every other woman hates,” Chloe reminded her.

“Whatever. You have to say that since you’re my bestie and therefore responsible for stroking my ego.”

“Your ego doesn’t need to be stroked, Dakota,” Chloe pointed out.

“Ah, darling, we’ve had this conversation before. Every woman needs her ego stroked,” Dakota countered. “Among other things,” she added with a giggle. Chloe sighed and the silence was piercing for several moments.

“What’s wrong? I know that sigh,” Dakota said, her voice instantly understanding. It brought tears to Chloe’s eyes.

“I’m on a job, and I fear it’s going to be a hard one,” Chloe admitted.

“The patient is gonna have a hard-on?” Dakota said with too much innocence.

Her friend’s wit did the job, and Chloe smiled though Dakota couldn’t see the gesture. “If you were here, he most certainly would,” she said.

“Someday you are going to see yourself for who you truly are,” Dakota said with irritation.

“I look in a mirror every morning,” Chloe said.

“But you don’t see what’s gazing back.”

“Now it’s my turn to tell you that you have to say that,” Chloe said.

“I cannot tell a lie. You know that’s my most debilitating fault,” Dakota reminded her.

“But you can if you believe it hard enough.”

“I might have to make a trip to see you so I can slap some sense into that calculating brain of yours,” Dakota threatened.

“I might have to tick you off so you do just that if it means I get to see you,” Chloe said.

There was silence again for a moment. “Do you need me, Chloe?” The question was serious.

“Always, but no, I’m just feeling sorry for myself,” Chloe assured her.

“If you do, you know I’ll drop everything and be right there,” Dakota told her.

“I know that, too.”

By the time Chloe hung up, she felt a smidge better, but as she walked up to the house, her nerves came back tenfold. She thought about running some more, but she was already late.

She had a nice gleam of sweat coating her as she walked into the house and made it to her luxurious bedroom. If there was any benefit to the job she was currently doing, it was that she had an exquisite bedroom with an even better bathroom. She would love to take a nice hour-long bath, but maybe she could do that later in the evening.

As much as she’d like to cause the conceited man some much needed pain, she had taken an oath to help the injured. She would attack him in legal ways that wouldn’t cost her the job she loved so much.

Taking a quick shower, she changed into her unflattering scrubs and headed to the kitchen with no time to spare. She wasn’t much of a morning eater, but she found some apple-cinnamon muffins and munched on one, washing it down with a glass of ice-cold milk. She already felt better. good people had lost their lives while Nick had lived. Hadn’t she once heard that many drunk drivers survived because they were too wasted to tense up during an accident? It seemed to be the case with Nick.

But Chloe didn’t like to go into any situation blind, so she’d done her homework on the Armstrong family, had studied everything she’d been able to get her hands onâ??especially pertaining to Nick. She hadn’t found anything to back up her father’s convictions.

Guilt ate through Chloe. Guilt at losing her brother and not doing everything in her power to avenge his death, guilt at lying to a patientâ??even if that patient was guilty of murder, guilt at plotting the demise of a manâ??even if that man was not guilty of murder, guilt at doubting her father.

Chloe was torn. She hated that she felt attracted to this man who was supposed to be her enemy, and she hated that she had ulterior motives and that her oath to “do no harm” as a medical professional felt like a lie. She had to treat him as any other patient, had to leave him able to walkâ??even if he were doing so behind bars.

Chloe was so deep in thought, she nearly tripped over a branch when her phone rang, yanking her back to the present. Normally, she would ignore a call while she was exercising, as it cut off the music that helped motivate her to keep on moving, but that ring tone was her best friend, and Chloe needed to speak with her.

She answered just before the call was sent to voice mail. There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Chloe had to quickly push the button on her ear set when her best friend’s voice boomed over the line.

“It’s a good thing you answered, because I was getting ready to hang up, which means I would have called back over and over and over again,” Dakota said.

Dakota and Chloe had met in elementary school and had been best friends from the very first moment they’d found out they shared a love of chocolate. Chloe had been shy and afraid, thanks in large part to her unaffectionate father. Dakota had been full of life. Against all odds, the two of them had sparked an immediate bond that hadn’t broken in all the years they’d known each other.

Chloe credited her sanity to Dakota. Without having her friend around, Chloe wasn’t sure what she would do most days. Dakota had gotten her through the best and worst of times, and the two had even stuck together through college.

“I’m running,” Chloe told her, but her steps faltered, and then she began moving slowly along the path she’d been on. She suddenly wasn’t in a hurry to return to the house. She needed to speak to her friend more than she needed to get Nick’s therapy started.

“Pssh, you are gorgeous and don’t need to run every stinking day,” Dakota told her.

“Says the woman every other woman hates,” Chloe reminded her.

“Whatever. You have to say that since you’re my bestie and therefore responsible for stroking my ego.”

“Your ego doesn’t need to be stroked, Dakota,” Chloe pointed out.

“Ah, darling, we’ve had this conversation before. Every woman needs her ego stroked,” Dakota countered. “Among other things,” she added with a giggle. Chloe sighed and the silence was piercing for several moments.

“What’s wrong? I know that sigh,” Dakota said, her voice instantly understanding. It brought tears to Chloe’s eyes.

“I’m on a job, and I fear it’s going to be a hard one,” Chloe admitted.

“The patient is gonna have a hard-on?” Dakota said with too much innocence.

Her friend’s wit did the job, and Chloe smiled though Dakota couldn’t see the gesture. “If you were here, he most certainly would,” she said.

“Someday you are going to see yourself for who you truly are,” Dakota said with irritation.

“I look in a mirror every morning,” Chloe said.

“But you don’t see what’s gazing back.”

“Now it’s my turn to tell you that you have to say that,” Chloe said.

“I cannot tell a lie. You know that’s my most debilitating fault,” Dakota reminded her.

“But you can if you believe it hard enough.”

“I might have to make a trip to see you so I can slap some sense into that calculating brain of yours,” Dakota threatened.

“I might have to tick you off so you do just that if it means I get to see you,” Chloe said.

There was silence again for a moment. “Do you need me, Chloe?” The question was serious.

“Always, but no, I’m just feeling sorry for myself,” Chloe assured her.

“If you do, you know I’ll drop everything and be right there,” Dakota told her.

“I know that, too.”

By the time Chloe hung up, she felt a smidge better, but as she walked up to the house, her nerves came back tenfold. She thought about running some more, but she was already late.

She had a nice gleam of sweat coating her as she walked into the house and made it to her luxurious bedroom. If there was any benefit to the job she was currently doing, it was that she had an exquisite bedroom with an even better bathroom. She would love to take a nice hour-long bath, but maybe she could do that later in the evening.

As much as she’d like to cause the conceited man some much needed pain, she had taken an oath to help the injured. She would attack him in legal ways that wouldn’t cost her the job she loved so much.

Taking a quick shower, she changed into her unflattering scrubs and headed to the kitchen with no time to spare. She wasn’t much of a morning eater, but she found some apple-cinnamon muffins and munched on one, washing it down with a glass of ice-cold milk. She already felt better.