Accepting her concession without grinning like an idiot took effort. “Smashing. Don’t want to talk about that bloke anyway.”
She followed him back into the cockpit, and he dropped to his seat. She slid into the seat behind him, and then he handed her the laptop. “Don’t worry about the tracer they put on the thumb drive. That computers encrypted, and it’s designed to box up malware and keep it secure.”
“Well, don’t you have all the toys. Since when do you own a private plane?”
He shrugged. “Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies.”
“Were you really on the take?”
He dared a glance over at her, but she wasn’t looking at him. Her gaze was fixed on the screen of his computer with the mouse hovering over the files. But she hadn’t opened them yet.
“Would you believe me if I told you the truth, luv?”
She moistened her lips, then raised her chin and met his gaze head-on. “If you tell me, I’ll believe that it’s true.”
Having her quote his own words back burrowed right through the emotional barrier he’d placed to keep himself divorced from the situation. His soul ached with the great big gaping emptiness her loss created. “I never took a bloody dime in my life that wasn’t owed to me by the British government and secured via a paycheck. And I didn’t burn you.”
“I didn’t ask about the last,” she said with a sigh, then double-clicked the file. “I know exactly who burned me.”
So did he. He’d killed him.
Chapter 5
Their arrival in Newfoundland was utterly uneventful. Their second stop in Iceland, even less so. In addition to his papers, Sam also had papers for her. Papers he didn’t explain, nor did she inquire after. At this point, very little Sam could do would surprise her. Once they cleared customs, they made their way to the commercial side of the airport.
She almost wanted to ask him what would happen to his plane, but since he took care of everything else, she assumed he had a plan for that as well. Using her credit card, they purchased their tickets to a small airport well outside of Paris. From there, they could drive to the coast and take the ferry. Currently, their IDs listed them as British subjects, which meant they wouldn’t get held up too much when they arrived back from a “day” spent in the French countryside.
It was late, and she was exhausted, but they still had an hour to wait before they could board their flight to France. Sam took her to a small restaurant in the airport, and bought food. Though she wasn’t hungry, she made herself eat anyway. In the back of her mind, she was playing over the information she’d obtained about the Earl of Bonneville. In the meanwhile, Sam settled himself in and began doing his own research.
She considered reaching out to Clark. If nothing else, just sending him a quick encrypted message to let him know she was okay. But a message would only invite more fire and scrutiny. The team was good. If they knew where to begin looking, it wouldn’t take them long to begin unraveling the threads. As long as they had no idea where she was, she was a needle in a very large haystack.
She’d left her hair down, brushed it fully out, and used it to help disguise her face. A baseball cap added to the effect, with her choice of clothes leaning toward a touristy bohemian vibe. Sam offered to buy her more, but she only purchased sandals. Only problem with airport security, they couldn’t take any weapons through. They were going at this unarmed.
Their flight to France was quiet and only four hours in length. They sat in first class, but unlike the other passengers, she didn’t bother to put her seat back. Sam chose the aisle seat while she sat nearer the window. Throughout the flight, Sam’s hand was less than an inch from hers. But she didn’t touch him, and he didn’t reach for her.
Deplaning in France, she told the custom’s officials the story of honeymooners who’d lost all their luggage, but had the most wonderful time and were eager to get back to Britain.
The amused man waved them through. Sam gave her a little beaming look the whole time she was talking. She was only attempting to play a part, but understood right off the bat his smile had less to do with the role they were playing and more to do with the story she was weaving.
In fact, as they walked away, he leaned over and stole a kiss. She allowed it, reminding herself once more they were undercover. When he took her hand, she didn’t fight it, merely interlaced their fingers together and kept right on walking. They hired a car, then drove down to the ferry. It’d been years since she traveled over the channel to Dover, but she was actually looking forward to it. The channel was choppy, the wind brisk, and the skies gray. Damn, it was good to be home. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved the English coastline, the dampness, and the chill in the air. For far too many years now, she’d spent her time in hotter and hotter places. A lot of people might enjoy the sun, but she wasn’t one of them.
A jacket dropped over her shoulders as Sam came to join her.
“How long has it been?”
“You know exactly how long it’s been.” Since the night he’d tried to kill Clark. She’d left and hadn’t come back. The same night she’d been burned, finding out too late they’d also sent Sam to kill her brother.
“I suspected, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Are you sorry they didn’t give you me?”
She could almost feel the weight of his stare, but she didn’t turn away from the sea.
“Am I sorry they didn’t send me to kill you?” He actually sounded offended. “Yes, I’m sorry they didn’t give me that job. I’m sorry, because you wouldn’t have had to take out the two sons of a bitch they did send.”
She took off the baseball cap then ran her fingers through her hair. The breeze kept jerking at the long strands, and the weight of it pulled her head.
“I could’ve ended up shooting you instead.”