Chapter Five #3
Growing up, she’d had boyfriends, but something of those few seconds in Tribeca when she’d seen Henry kissing his lover had stuck inside her head, acting as a brake whenever things got too hot and out of hand.
The kiss was tangible proof that men could not be trusted.
It acted as a warning to keep her distance and avoid the hurt and deceit of her parents’ marriage.
Before Gray, there had been one other man, so he wasn’t her first, but after him, no one she could call her boyfriend.
Now the idea of trusting someone enough to call them ‘my’ anything was beyond her.
In those few months post break-up, she’d hooked up with strangers. Not many. Two. She hadn’t wanted to be known, hadn’t wanted to know them. The sex had been good, but mainly it had been about getting Gray out of her system. There was nothing that made her want to stop and be held. To stay held.
Until last night.
With Antaeus.
There were obvious reasons for that. Not excuses. But one way or another, it had been an emotionally charged day. In those terrifying moments as the helicopter spun out of control, he had been like the binnacle on Henry’s yacht, an immovable object in the eye of the storm.
But it was more than that.
Mostly she was so guarded, so careful. But trapped in that helicopter, she’d found a rare freedom. In Antaeus’s arms, she had unlocked a version of herself she’d always kept imprisoned. A different Cassie. Eager. Uninhibited. Unanchored to a name or the past. Just herself.
Her gaze moved furtively over his profile to where his skin stretched over those glorious cheekbones.
The flawless symmetry of his face was as shocking and exhilarating as a cold shower.
And like a cold shower, the shock never diminished.
Probably it would take a long time to get used to his beauty. Maybe forever.
But she didn’t have forever.
Soon she would be back on a plane to the States, and this whole unsettling episode would be in the rearview mirror. Because obviously things had changed. After last night, things had moved on.
She wasn’t talking about the sex.
Her breath knotted. That was a knot she didn’t need to unpick right now.
But nor could she ignore it, because last night they had been two people, not two opposing sides of a feud, and they weren’t fighting each other but the storm.
Of course it was just fear and adrenaline driving it, but surely that raw, undeniable connection transcended all the silly games they’d both been playing.
After what happened on the mountain or what so nearly happened, this was a chance to reset, to move on from the past and put aside all those old wounds and grudges.
One day she would give herself time and space to replay that night in detail, but what mattered was that out of that night had come a new dynamic.
They had faced death and survived, together.
In so doing, they had seen a different side of each other, stripped away the anger.
Surely now they could put aside all the plans for retribution and talk like rational people.
She tried out some sentences in her head. But there was no need to be word-perfect. She had seen another side to Antaeus. Someone more measured.
Her pulse stilled as she remembered his hand clasping the back of her head and his breath staggering against her throat—
And less measured.
Cheeks burning, she blanked her mind to that image and let her gaze drop to the landscape passing beneath them.
They had been flying for a quite a long time now, a good twenty minutes at least, and yet there was no sign of the city sprawl they had flown over on the way to the Krokos facility yesterday afternoon.
Her heart thudded. Maybe Antaeus was flying more slowly than the pilot.
She took a breath. ‘How much further is it to Thessaloniki?’
It was the beat of silence following her question that snapped her focus back to his face so that she was staring at him when he answered. ‘We’re not going to Thessaloniki.’
She felt her spine stiffen against the leather upholstery. ‘But I thought—’
‘You thought what?’ There was a mixture of tension and volatility in his voice that hadn’t been there a moment earlier.
‘Just that, you know, after what happened last night, I thought you might have changed your mind.’
The memory of the storm was still a raw, terrifying thing, but for some reason, she felt more exposed now in the sunshine streaming through the cockpit window.
‘Then you clearly weren’t paying close enough attention to what I told you yesterday.’
Her hands felt huge and helpless in her lap, and she pressed them together to stop them shaking as her mind flashed to the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the night, and then further back still to that conversation they’d had in the helicopter just before the storm.
‘But that was before we—’ The words caught in her throat. ‘Surely you can’t… Things are different now.’
His gaze stayed fixed on the horizon. ‘Nothing’s different. Nothing’s changed.’
‘But it has,’ she said, her voice trembling despite her best efforts to keep it steady. ‘Last night showed us that the past is the past. It showed us what’s really important. It showed us how petty it is to hold a grudge—’
‘Petty!’ Now he looked at her, his eyes blazing with a cold fire. ‘You think ruining three people’s lives is petty?’
‘That’s not what I meant. You’re twisting my words.’
‘You really can’t help yourself, can you? You will literally say anything, do anything to save your skin.’ His rough, raw tone robbed her of her breath. ‘Was that what last night was about? Saving your skin?’
A wave of dizziness rushed over her, the shock of his words ripping a hole in her composure.
‘No, that’s not what—’
But Antaeus cut her off.
‘You wasted your time, Princess.’ His voice was edged with a dangerous calm.
‘Did you really think that having sex with you on the floor of my helicopter was going to make me forget everything? Forgive everything? You think that because we had sex, I’m just going to let you walk away from this whole thing with a slap on the wrist? ’
Her mouth fell open. ‘No! You’ve got it all wrong. I wasn’t trying to manipulate you.’
‘You still are. You know that trembling lower lip and wide-eyed innocence might work on some men. But you forget, I met your father. And you really are his daughter.’
Cassie felt the blood drain from her face. The brilliant morning light suddenly felt harsh and unforgiving, illuminating the chasm that had opened between them. He hadn’t heard a word she’d said. He’d only heard what he expected to hear.
Her stomach twisted. Last night hadn’t swept aside the past. It had hauled it into the present.