Riled (The Invincibles Book 4)

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Riled (The Invincibles Book 4) Page 5

by Heather Slade


  “Which airport?”

  “White Plains.”

  I rushed out of the main residence and ran toward the guest house. The man who’d attacked me was on his way here and would probably arrive within a half hour.

  Not knowing what else to do, given the urgency of my situation, I called the number Cortez had programmed into my mobile, praying he’d answer.

  “Kensington,” he said before I heard it ring.

  “I’m sorry to—”

  “Stop. I’ve just received a report that Konstantine von Habsburg is in the States. He may very well be on his way to your mother’s estate as we speak.”

  Had he not interrupted me, I would’ve told him that very thing. “The reason for my call.”

  “You are aware, then?”

  “I am, and in fact, he’ll be here as soon as he’s able to clear customs.”

  “I’ll ring you right back.”

  “Cortez?” The bloody bastard ended the call!

  My mobile rang within minutes.

  “I’ve bought us some time.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Von Habsburg will not be out of customs any time soon. Now, listen very carefully to what I want you to do. Do you have a vehicle at your disposal?”

  “Yes.”

  “I want you to go directly to the Indian Harbor Heliport. Do you know it?”

  “It’s ten minutes away.”

  “Good. Perfect. Once you’ve arrived, ring me. I’m making arrangements now for someone to meet you there.”

  I changed my clothes, pulled my hair back, and threw as much of my stuff as I could into a bag. I looked into the lavatory mirror and took several deep breaths before doing one more check to be certain I had my mobile, wallet, and passport before rushing to the garage. Thankfully, I didn’t have to pass the main house to get there.

  “Hello, Miss Kensington,” said Thomas, one of my mother’s chauffeurs. “Can I give you a lift somewhere?”

  “As a matter of fact…”

  No more than twenty minutes after my call with Cortez ended, the driver pulled up to the heliport.

  “Thank you so much for getting me here so quickly, Thomas. I have one more favor to ask.” I reached into my wallet. “I’d rather my mother not be made aware of my departure.”

  He held up his hand rather than out when I tried to hand him some money. “Say no more, Miss Kensington. I haven’t seen or heard from you in several days.”

  “Please, Thomas, take this.”

  He shook his head. “Be on your way, Miss.”

  I leaned over the seat and kissed his cheek.

  As Thomas carried my bag inside the small lobby despite my protests that I could handle it on my own, I heard someone calling my name.

  “Kensington!” I looked up, and Teagon was racing toward me, arms outstretched.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come to collect you,” she whispered.

  “You have?”

  “Yes.” She looked over my shoulder. “Can we lose Lurch?”

  “Oh, that’s Thomas.” I turned to him. “Thank you so very much for delivering me safely.” I took my bag and pressed the folded money into his hand. “Buy your wife something nice with it.”

  He left, and I tucked my arm in Teagon’s. “Okay, explain, missy.”

  “I’ve a heli pilot’s license.”

  “You don’t!”

  “I do, as a matter of fact.”

  “How do you know Cortez DeLéon?”

  She leaned in close. “I used to work with him,” she whispered.

  “SIS?”

  She nodded and put her finger in front of her lips.

  “I can’t believe you can fly a helicopter,” I said as she helped me buckle up and handed me a headset.

  “I’ve had my license several months now. You have to fly a million hours to get one, so don’t worry, you’re safe with me.”

  I smiled. “I didn’t doubt it.”

  Once in the air, I asked her where she was taking me.

  “Teterboro.”

  “And from there?”

  Her playful demeanor turned serious. “I’ll be returning to London with you, Kenz.”

  “As?”

  “Security.”

  “Is it really necessary?”

  “DeLéon will fill you in once he arrives.”

  “We’re traveling to London with Cortez?”

  “I thought you knew.”

  “You said you used to work with him. Have you left MI6?”

  “No, he did.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Rile, as he’s known within the ranks of SIS, resigned a few months ago and formed a private firm. I still work for SIS, but was brought in by my boss to assist with your detail, given my relationship with you.”

  “Detail?”

  “As I said before, security. Same thing, Kenz.”

  “Do you work for him, then?”

  “If by him, you mean Rile, not really. Although when we were both with MI6, he outranked me by quite a bit.”

  “I’m confused. Did the Queen hire him?”

  “What do you think, Kensington?”

  “That is what I’d suspected initially.”

  When she didn’t say anything more, I looked out at the island of Manhattan below us, thinking how I used to love spending time in New York City. The few trips I made into town while staying with Kiki had been disappointing. Even visiting the Whitney, my favorite museum in the world, left me feeling uninspired. The first real excitement I’d felt since I arrived at my mother’s compound was when I heard Cortez’s voice an hour ago.

  Once back in London, I was sure I’d forget all about him, especially with Teagon around. “I’ve missed you,” I said, looking over at her.

  “Me too.”

  She landed the helicopter seemingly with ease and helped me get out of the complicated harness system.

  “I’m afraid we have some time to kill.” Teagon was chewing the inside of her cheek. “But Rile insisted I get you here as quickly as possible.”

  I raised a brow at her use of the name; she appeared to be intimidated by the idea of him. “Explain to me again, do you work for him?”

  “Not officially, but this is his mission. You could say I’m on loan to his firm.”

  “Mission? I’m a mission?”

  “It’s a figure of speech.”

  “Did he say we couldn’t leave?”

  “No, but…”

  “How long before his flight lands?”

  “Another three hours, at least.”

  “What do you say we head over to Buvette?”

  “That would be bloody brilliant. I haven’t been since we were last in Paris.”

  Two hours, thirty minutes, five texts, and three unanswered phone calls from my irate mother later, we were back at Teterboro Airport, waiting for the arrival of Cortez’s plane.

  “Are you okay?” Teagon asked.

  “You mean because of Kiki?”

  “Has she given up?”

  I looked at my phone. “No, but she has gone from ‘where the fuck are you’ to ‘you’ve embarrassed me for the last time you ungrateful brat.’”

  It didn’t matter what my mother said or did; it never had, if I were being honest. I was happier than I’d been in months, and I had Cortez to thank for it. Or was it the Queen I should thank?

  Teagon told me over a bottle of Burgundy that her “assignment” with me would last through the new year.

  “I’ve an excuse not to spend the holidays with either of my parents thanks to you.”

  Not wanting to spend time with our parents was something Teagon and I had in common.

  We were on our second glass of wine in the airport lounge—which meant our fourth of the afternoon—when she broached a subject I’d hoped she wouldn’t.

  “I’ve noticed that whenever you say ‘Cortez,’ your cheeks flush.”

  “They don’t.”

&
nbsp; “Yes. They do. You’re hot for him. Don’t try lying to me.”

  “You’ll take the piss out of me for his age.”

  “You always fancy the older ones.”

  “He’s not that old.”

  “He’s not as old as—” She stopped talking and peered over my shoulder.

  “He’s here, isn’t he?”

  “I’ll just run off to the loo before we board the plane.”

  I turned around and watched Teagon leave and Cortez walk toward me.

  “Kensington.”

  “Rile.”

  He smiled. “I see you’re pleased with my choice of escort.”

  “How did you know she’s my best mate?”

  “I have my sources.” He stepped closer, and I breathed in the scent of him.

  “I’m sorry I panicked. I suppose I could’ve gotten myself away from Kiki’s, but the idea that Konstantine could arrive at any moment overwhelmed me.”

  He reached out and cupped my cheek with his palm. “You look well.”

  “It’s been unseasonably warm, so I’ve been spending time at the pool.”

  “Not racing speedboats?”

  I smiled and felt flush, in part because of the wine, but more because of his closeness. “That too.”

  “I came to say goodbye that day.”

  “I know.”

  “And yet you ran away.”

  “Cortez, I…” What could I say? I rushed off because I wanted him to kiss me again and I knew he wouldn’t? Or that I wanted to beg him to take me with him instead of leaving me at Kiki’s? And that I wanted to be with him more than I wanted to get away from my mother.

  Teagon approached slowly, and I waved her over.

  “Hello, Rile,” she said, bumping his shoulder.

  “Good afternoon, Angel.”

  Angel? He called her angel? And I’d just admitted I was hot for him? Or maybe she’d accused me of it, but either way…oh my God. Cortez and Teagon were together.

  She grabbed my arm, probably because I’d gone from flushed to ghostly pale. “It isn’t what you think. Angel is my…code name. Work, remember?” She pointed between the two of them. “Rile and Angel.”

  “I knew that,” I lied. Clearly, neither believed me, but at least, they allowed me to save face. “When do we leave?”

  “The plane should be fueled and ready whenever you are.”

  I excused myself and went to the lavatory as much to douse my face with ice-cold water as to use the facilities. Saying I was hot for Cortez was an understatement. Being close to him set my body on fire. Thinking about our one kiss—the best kiss of my life—made my pulse race.

  I couldn’t help but wonder if we were traveling in the same plane we’d flown from London and whether I’d be able to lure him back into the stateroom.

  When I came out, Teagon was standing outside the doorway, looking at something on her phone.

  “Everything okay?”

  “What?” she asked, shoving the phone into her bag.

  “What’s going on?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Come on, Teag. I’ve known you since we were kids. Something is up.”

  “Otto von Habsburg is in the hospital in a coma.”

  “What happened?”

  “Someone tried to kill him.”

  8

  Rile

  The reports out of Budapest were sketchy. Some said Otto von Habsburg was dead, others said he was still alive, but on life support. No one was reporting what had happened that left him in either state.

  “When did this occur?” I asked Decker, who had been the one to alert me.

  “Sometime yesterday.”

  “Do the authorities have any leads?”

  “Only that they believe he knew his assailant.”

  My every instinct told me Konstantine had something to do with his cousin’s attack, but what would his motive be?

  “Where are you now?” Decker asked.

  “Teterboro Airport, about to leave for London. Teagon Evans and Kensington Whitby are traveling with me.”

  “Angel?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I remember reading in the brief they were friends.”

  “I’ve made arrangements with Z for Angel to cover Kensington’s detail indefinitely.”

  “In London?”

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Do you have another suggestion?”

  “Somewhere more remote.”

  “You can’t be suggesting…”

  “She’d be safer there, Rile.”

  Once on the plane, I excused myself to the stateroom to give Kensington and Angel privacy to talk. Or that’s what I told myself.

  When I heard the chime indicating we were at cruising altitude, I pulled out the bunk and stretched out on my back. With my hands behind my head, I stared at the ceiling above me, wondering if bringing someone under my protection into my home was a mistake. It certainly wasn’t wise.

  I’d just let my eyes drift closed when I heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

  Kensington stuck her head in. “Hi.”

  I sat up. “Hi.”

  “The co-pilot came out a few minutes ago and said we were on our way to Spain, not England.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Why?”

  I motioned for her to come closer, and she sat beside me.

  “Angel informed you of the attack on Otto von Habsburg?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where we’re going affords more…security.”

  “Where are we going, Cortez?”

  “To my home on the island of Mallorca.”

  She turned her head away. “I feel like such a bother.”

  I reached out and put my fingertips on her chin. “Look at me, Kensington.” Staring into her amber eyes, I was transfixed. I longed to touch her lips with mine, but I couldn’t let myself.

  “Your safety is all that matters.”

  “Who are you protecting me from? Konstantine? I know it was stupid of me to go to Budapest with him. I would never put myself in a position of being alone with him again. It’s why I couldn’t stay at Kiki’s.”

  “And what if he comes to you in London?”

  “Security would keep him away.”

  “Would they?”

  “Of course. It’s what they do.”

  “Would you feel comfortable leaving your home? Going to the market? Out for dinner or to the pub?”

  Her eyes bored into mine, questioning. “How long will this last?”

  “Until we have a better understanding of what Konstantine is up to.”

  “I should let you get some rest.”

  “Kensington.”

  She smiled. “Yes?”

  “I wish I were younger.”

  “I don’t.” She kissed my cheek, stood, and walked out.

  Ten hours later, my plane landed at the small airport on the island of Mallorca, where Kensington and Teagon would be spending the holidays.

  I had the valet bring the Range Rover to the airfield, and on the way to the other side of the island, I showed Kensington and Angel around Palma, pointing out the Christmas markets in Puerto Portals and Plaça Major.

  “Most of the locals have a bigger celebration on Fiesta de los Reyes or the Three Kings Festival than they do on Christmas, but you’ll find holiday events all over Mallorca. Perhaps tomorrow night we’ll come back into town and see the light and ice festival and have dinner.” I looked over at Kensington as she took it all in. “Is this your first time on Mallorca?”

  “I was trying to remember the last time I was in Spain. It’s been years.”

  “In Madrid, yes?”

  “I was nine or ten. A girl.”

  A child. And I’d been a man of twenty. The idea of it reinforced what I’d said earlier when I told her I wished I were younger.

  I peered in the rearview and caught Angel studying me. Our eyes met and she smiled. It was u
nusual for me that I couldn’t get any kind of read on what she was thinking.

  “Here we are,” I said, pulling into the drive that would take us through the acres of oak forest, past the olive terraces, two guest houses, and finally, to the main residence. To access the small chapel and cemetery and the winery that hadn’t been used in several decades, one would have to travel farther north, beyond the house.

  When the property I now owned came up for sale, I’d purchased it immediately. The historic estate sat on over two-hundred acres and had direct access to the sea along with spectacular views of the entire Bay of Palma.

  The main house had four floors plus a solarium on the roof, all easily accessed by a lift and completely renovated before my purchase. Each level above the lowest had decks or terraces that stretched the entire width of the structure.

  The pool area and the trail that led down to the sea, along with terraced gardens with fountains and waterfalls, were on the lowest level. There was also an indoor-outdoor kitchen and barbecue, two changing rooms each with a full bath and shower, a wine cellar, laundry, and several storage rooms.

  Still on that level, there was a one-bedroom apartment where my housekeeper lived, that had a lounge, kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom.

  The next was at driveway-level and had a garage with parking for five vehicles. Here, there was a large workout and game room, an indoor pool and jetted spa, and two combination bathroom-changing rooms bigger than most locker rooms I’d been in.

  Above that were the main quarters with an expansive living room, a gourmet kitchen with a walk-in pantry, an office, two bathrooms, and two dining areas—one formal and one informal.

  Four bedrooms were on the next level. Two had bathrooms en suite along with a shared lounge and dual dressing rooms. The other two bedrooms were smaller and shared a bathroom.

  On the fifth floor, there was the solarium with an infinity pool and kitchen and two bathrooms. At the far end, I’d added another master suite with a dressing room, full bath and shower, a double-sided fireplace, and windows that rolled into the ceiling above, giving the bedroom area open access to the view of the bay. It’s where I slept every night I was home.

  While the house was far too large for me to live in alone, I did, and the thought of sharing it with anyone rankled. It would be better if Kensington and Angel stayed in one or both of the guest houses. However, the reason they were with me at all was for Kensington’s safety. Could I ensure it if she wasn’t living in the main residence? Not as easily.

 

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