Chapter Thirteen
KHALIDA
“There is an entire plane, and you are going to sit there?”
After another fitful night of sleep, Khalida was not in the mood to be nice or patient.
Especially when she didn’t have an audience.
She sank deeper into the soft white leather seat, counting to three before she turned to face Talik.
They were on Dante’s private jet—Dante’s very empty jet.
And by her last count, there were at least ten empty rows between her and the front of the plane.
Dante and Rieka had remained near the front, and she had wanted to give them privacy.
Talik was right across from Khalida. Near enough that if she stretched out her legs, she was going to touch him.
Even the small, polished oak table between them wasn’t enough of a barrier.
She felt his warmth. It radiated off him in waves. It made her want to move closer to him, to be enveloped within it.
Boundaries.
That was the only way it was going to work between them.
She needed to survive the mission first before she thought about the wager and what it really meant.
It had been less than ten hours since she had seen Talik in the dungeon, and it had taken all her effort not to take back the agreement to work together.
It was already too easy to fall back into old habits and the good memories.
All she had ever wanted was a place where she belonged and for eight decades, she had it.
And with Talik nearby, he made her long for days long gone and dreams she didn’t deserve, had never really deserved if she was being truthful with herself.
Far easier to pretend to hate someone when they were on the other side of the world than sitting right next to you.
Placing her hands on her lap, she forced herself not to give into the urge to tap her fingers on the armrest. If she did, Talik would know he had gotten under her skin.
“I thought you said you wanted to work together,” Talik responded with a hint of a challenge in his voice. “That requires talking to each other.”
She gritted her teeth, keeping her expression neutral. Work together, not be glued together. That was two very different things.
When they were in Rome, was what she wanted to say, even if it sounded petty, but she refrained. She did not want to give Talik an excuse to lord it over her.
“I assumed you would be busy.”
“You assumed wrong,” Talik answered. “No uniform?”
She glanced down at her dark-green T-shirt, black jeans, and flat boots, uncomfortable enough without Talik mentioning the obvious.
The T-shirt and jeans felt foreign to her; the cotton was far too soft when compared to her uniform, and the jeans were as constricting but without any of the protection.
Only her boots remained the same. Traveling to Rome in an unofficial capacity, and with the need to remain as inconspicuous as possible, meant her uniform was not an option.
It would have brought too much attention to what they were doing, attention that they couldn’t afford to have on them.
That didn’t stop the lack of uniform making her feel like an outsider with no direction or the feeling of smallness that was beginning to seep through her.
As old memories of her childhood abandonment threatened to resurface, she stared at the fluffy white carpet, refocusing her thoughts so she wouldn’t give away what she was thinking.
Hands clasped together, to an outsider she would have looked like a paragon of virtue.
“How did Sypha explain the request to visit Rome?” she asked, not quite understanding how they had managed to confirm the approval within twenty-four hours.
Her status as head of House Azaes’s security precluded her from randomly visiting most regions, and the occasional times she had, the approval process had taken weeks, if not months.
Bureaucracy and red tape were not only a human problem.
“Personal reasons.”
Khalida crossed her arms across her chest. She looked out the window.
The yellow desert beneath them looked like it was a world away.
For a moment, she wished she was there, in the middle of nowhere.
Things were far simpler when she wasn’t as easily distracted or conflicted. “What personal reasons?”
“Sypha may have emphasized our relationship.”
She closed her eyes. “There isn’t a relationship.”
“According to House Mneseus there is—otherwise you would not have been approved entry,” Talik answered.
She glanced at him as he looked at his perfectly manicured black nails. There was no hint of emotion on his handsome face, but there was something just beneath the surface. Too bad she didn’t want to look any closer because she might have had to actually analyze her own emotions and feelings.
“You just have to pretend to like me and not threaten bodily harm if we come across anyone from the House.”
“You make it sound like I threaten you all the time,” she protested. Most of the time, she didn’t voice the desire to stab him. Just happily thought it.
Talik leaned closer. “How many knives do you have hidden?”
Her throat constricted at his nearness. “Knives?”
Talik smiled. The light laugh lines around his eyes twinkled as he waited for an answer.
“Enough to defend myself.”
Talik moved back, settling into his seat as he pulled dark glasses over his eyes and muttering under his breath, so low, she almost didn’t catch it, “That’s my girl.”
It should have fucking annoyed her.
Instead, it sent a small thrill through her.
She grabbed her tablet, opened up a document and just stared at the page, unable to read a word. But she dared not turn to Talik. She wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t pretending to be asleep.
His leg brushed against hers.
It was going to be a long flight to Rome.