Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 525(@200wpm)___ 420(@250wpm)___ 350(@300wpm)
He still hadn’t decided which way to go. Maybe both.
Cairn knocked on his door and he slid out, rushing around to where a worried-looking Scot was opening her door. Alejandro nodded to him before reaching in to undo her seatbelt.
“I’m all right, Papi,” she said quietly.
“You’re not. I’ve seen you wincing. You’re hurt.” He should have had someone check her over, but he didn’t trust anyone in North Dakota with Cat.
Picking her up, he moved past The Scot, who gave her a gentle smile. “You doing all right, Little Queen?”
“Sure am. You should see the other guy,” she attempted to joke.
A dark look filled The Scot’s face. “Believe me, I’d like to. Wanted the boss to leave me here.” He cracked his knuckles. “Teach those assholes to touch our Little Queen.”
Alejandro was grateful his men all cared for Cat. That they’d lay down their lives for her. And he knew The Scot saw her as his little sister. But his emotions were on edge right now, and so he found himself glaring at the other man.
“Mine.”
“You got it, Boss.” The Scot held up his hands. “No touching the Little Queen. I promise. I like my balls where they are.”
“You have balls?” Cairn asked with a rare joke.
The Scot grinned, and this time, his face lit up. “Sure do, mate. You want to see them? I’ll wear my kilt for you one day so you can have a peek.”
Cairn groaned as they made their way to the plane. He knew that their levity wasn’t because they were relaxed or slacking off. But they were trying to distract Cat.
“Not gonna peek under your damn skirt.”
“Hey! It’s not a skirt! It’s a kilt! And I know you’ll peek. But don’t blame me when you get some dick envy. It’s why I don’t bring the kilt out often. You Americans just can’t measure up to us Scots. Aye, lassie?”
“I’ve never seen a Scot’s dick,” Cat said solemnly.
“And you never will,” Alejandro replied with a growl.
Cairn and The Scot grew quiet, probably realizing he’d reached the end of his endurance for this conversation.
“I can walk on my own,” she grumbled.
“Hush, Cat,” he said firmly as he entered the airplane. “You’re in enough trouble as it is. I wouldn’t test me.”
He settled her in a seat by the window, putting the belt over her, then taking a blanket from above them.
When he turned back, she was looking out the window, shoulders stiff.
Shit.
Had he done that? Had he been too harsh on her before?
She’d just been fucking kidnapped and terrorized. He needed to find a way to be gentler. He’d learned to be softer with her over the years they’d been together. But it didn’t always come easily to him.
Alfie, the flight attendant, approached and he ordered a whiskey and a chocolate milk.
“I don’t want the chocolate milk,” she whispered as Alfie walked away.
“Why not, mi Pequeña?” he asked softly.
“Because I don’t deserve it.” She curled into a ball, bringing her feet up onto the seat and wrapping her arms around her bent legs.
It must have been hell on her bruised body, and he especially didn’t like that she was trying to make herself small.
His Cat was never small. She was fire. She was life.
She was his entire world.
Alfie walked over with their drinks and he nodded his thanks.
“I packed up everything in the hotel room, Boss. It’s in the backroom.”
“Thanks, Alfie.” He set his drink in the cupholder, then held hers out to her.
Alfie had given her a straw and a small umbrella.
It was cute, and under any other circumstances, he knew she’d be smiling in delight. But she didn’t move, so he set the cup down.
“Mi Pequeña, I need to apologize.”
She turned sharply, hissing in pain.
“Careful,” he admonished. “Do not hurt yourself.” That wasn’t allowed. He just hated her being in any kind of pain.
“You need to apologize . . . you never apologize. Do you even know how?” she asked suspiciously.
“I apologize occasionally. It’s just not very often that I’m wrong.”
She snorted. And he hid his relief at the sound.
“And of course I know how.”
“I’m not sure that you do. You still haven’t said it.”
“Said what?”
“That you’re sorry.”
“Why would I need to say it when you know? Surely actions speak louder than words.”
“Papi,” she admonished.
“Take two sips of your chocolate milk,” he instructed.
She shook her head.
“Mi Pequeña, I’m sorry that I took my fear and anger out on you. I shouldn’t have. Even though you shouldn’t have run off like you did, I understand that you thought you saw your mama.”
She’d told him everything in the car ride over.
Fuck. It wasn’t her fault her brain was playing tricks on her. Even after seven years, he knew she missed her mother terribly. And he hated that this was the one thing he couldn’t give her.
He’d searched for Penelope. Had even hired private investigators, but no one could find her. It was like she’d disappeared. It didn’t help that they were searching years after she’d vanished and any lead that might have been there had dried up.