Chapter 50
HAILEY
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?”
“How kind of you to inquire after my health, but I’m perfectly fine,” he said, looking obnoxiously amused with himself.
“I will not marry you. I will never marry you.”
“You are going to marry me and let me tell you why.” He released my armrests and straightened to tower over me, making me realize exactly how trapped I was in this giant metal tube in the sky.
“Because of the way you scream my name when you come on my tongue. The way your body clenches me when you come on my cock, and how no matter what you say to deny it, your body melts in my arms when I kiss you.”
He reached for me, but evading his grasp, I slid out of my seat and took a step back.
“I’m not going to marry you just because you’re good in bed.”
“Little bird, we both know I’m far more than just good in bed,” he smirked. “But if you require more reasons, fine. Because I am ridiculously rich.”
Hands on hips, I snorted. “Wow. The Pretty Woman argument actually gets more offensive each time you use it.”
He tipped my chin up, all traces of amusement gone from his eyes. “And because I am the only one keeping you alive right now.”
I shifted back slightly, breaking his grasp.
I didn’t like his nearness…his maleness.
He raised an eyebrow. “My maleness.”
Dammit. “I said that out loud?”
He ran the back of his hand over my cheek. “It’s adorable.”
“It’s annoying.”
He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “I’d know what you were thinking even if you didn’t.”
I bit my lip and reached out for the back of a chair to steady myself. “Has anyone told you, you are an arrogant pain in the ass.”
He ran his mouth along my jaw as my head fell back. “Many. Many. Many times.”
I reached for the lapels of his suit jacket, holding on to him. “You don’t have to marry me to keep me safe.”
“No, I get to marry you to keep you safe.”
Taking a deep breath, I broke free and slipped out from under his raised arm to place some much-needed distance between us. I needed distance…
“And if I refuse?” I crossed my arms over my chest.
“It’s not really a choice you’re going to make, little bird.” He took a step toward me, and my back hit a partition.
“We’re not alone on this plane. There is staff, a pilot. I can tell them the truth, and—”
“And they have all been paid obnoxious amounts of money for their loyalty. No help for you there. Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He traced his finger along my collarbone. “So you should consider being a good girl and coming up with a creative way to stay in my favor.”
“Go to hell.” I put my hands on his chest and tried to push him away. He clasped his hands over mine, anchoring me to him.
“Oh sweetheart, I have no doubt that I will end up in hell. But I have every intention of taking my wife with me.” He bit down on my earlobe and chuckled when a shudder of need passed through me. “You need to trust me.”
“Seriously? Trust you? You helped Jameson fake his death and had no problem letting my best friend go to prison for life, and I should trust you?”
He clamped his hand over my mouth and looked around.
So the staff weren’t that well paid after all.
“Yes, you need to trust me. Marrying me is the only way I can keep you safe.”
I pulled his hand away. “Fine, I’ll be good. I’ll sit in the fancy-ass chair in this obscenely decadent plane, and I’ll read a book.”
“Sure I can’t tempt you into the back bedroom?” He nipped at my ear again.
“I’m tired,” I lied. My body was hot and wet, ready for him, but if I let him take me back there, if I let him take me again and again, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to resist his insistence on marriage.
He scooped me up as if I weighed nothing, carrying me the few steps to the leather couch. The cool surface met my back as he sat and eased me down across it, arranging me so my head rested in the warm cradle of his lap.
For a moment his hands lingered before he reached into a hidden compartment and drew out a soft, furred blanket. He draped it over me with surprising care, tucking it around my shoulders.
“Try to take a quick nap,” he murmured. “We’ll be landing soon.”
“I’m still not going to marry you,” I said, closing my eyes.
A low, dark chuckle rumbled from his chest. “We’ll see about that, my sweet little bird.”
The next thing I knew, Greyson was shaking me awake.
I sat up slowly, my body heavy with sleep. Blinking, I tried to remember where I was. Then it all came back at once.
I pressed my lips together.
I needed to keep my mouth shut.
I needed to wait.
“Sir, we apologize again for the lengthy rerouting delay, but we’ll be landing in New York soon. Is there anything else I can get you?”
The flight attendant smiled a little too brightly, leaning forward just enough to show off her ample breasts.
I hated her. I shouldn’t have been jealous. It wasn’t like I had any intention of keeping Greyson. But she didn’t know that.
“No, we’re good.” Greyson dismissed her without even glancing her way.
“New York? We’re in New York already?” I asked.
“Yes. Unfortunately, it’s going to be a rather quick trip,” he said, glancing down at his phone. “There are things I have to handle back home. A few loose ends that need tying up. But we can always come back for our honeymoon if you like. I have a penthouse overlooking Central Park.”
“Oh, maybe,” I said, not wanting to fight.
New York was good. New York was crowded. Very crowded. All I had to do was wait. And then I’d run. Greyson might be rich, but he couldn’t pay off every cop in New York.
“Good nap?” Greyson asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.
I smoothed my hopelessly wrinkled blouse. “Yep.”
He watched my every move, clearly not trusting my sudden compliance.
He shouldn’t.
Finally the plane landed. We unbuckled and I stood and stretched. Greyson didn’t move.
The flight attendant opened the door, but Greyson simply placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back down into the seat as a man boarded the plane.
“Your Excellency,” Greyson said, standing to shake the man’s hand. “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
The moment I saw the black cassock and black with purple piping sash, a chill slid down my spine. The bishop stepped onto the plane. A leather-bound book rested in one hand, while a manila folder was tucked under his arm.
A bishop. A freaking bishop?
Greyson had told me a priest would be waiting. I just hadn’t believed him. Why would I? This whole thing was madness.
“No, not at all, Greyson. I owe you, as you well know.” The bishop smiled pleasantly, like there was nothing unusual about boarding a private jet under mysterious circumstances. “I take it this lovely young lady is your bride?”
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
This couldn’t be happening.
“Yes,” Greyson said, pulling me firmly to his side. “And I’m afraid we don’t have a lot of time.”
“Of course,” the bishop said with an easy smile. “Let’s make this quick, then.”