by Carter Blake
Getting by them is going to be difficult. It’s going to require some kind of diversion.
Just my luck, the Fates have heard me and answered my call.
A waiter drops a tray of wine glasses by the bar, and the men turn to look.
With them distracted, I move away from the bar and toward a rear exit.
As I slip by, I notice several men in black suits standing near the entrance. One in particular stands out. Along his neck is a long red scratch mark—a fresh one at that—and he seems to be favoring his right leg.
There’s something about him that feels vaguely familiar, though I can’t quite place it. Whoever and whatever he is, something is off.
This whole scene, from the incompetent police outside to the crowd of white-button down investigators, doesn’t feel right.
Once I’m outside, I send Ritz a text to let him know I’ve left and to make sure he tells me if anything changes.
In the meantime, I have a gagged heiress to return to and prepare.
Chapter 7
Kalista
Griff strolls back into the apartment, and I’m relieved to see him making his way over to me with a sympathetic look on his face.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, love,” he croons, flashing me a grin as he unties my hands and my ankles. “But I think our time together is coming to a close.”
I twist my wrists and crack my knuckles as they’re released from the rope, enjoying the fact that I’m no longer bound and helpless.
It’s one thing to play this sort of games in the bedroom, but outside of that? I’m not so much a fan of being tied up.
“Oh, really? And why is that?” I ask, rolling my ankles as he removes the ropes.
As anxious as I am to get back to safety, there are definitely worse ways I could be spending my time right now. At least Griff is easy on the eyes. Especially with his strong hands and a jaw line of steel.
He offers me his hand, and I take it, pulling myself up and marveling at how soft his hands are.
How can someone in his line of work have hands that are so smooth?
Before I have a chance to ask him what marvelous line of skincare he uses, he darts off to the other room, and I’m left standing here like an idiot glancing around the apartment. When I start to wander, he comes right back into the room—with shopping bags.
“Because,” he smirks at me and tosses me a pair of jeans from one of them, followed by a chic navy blouse. “As much as I’ve enjoyed your company, I’m taking you back to your hotel. Get dressed, we’re leaving in a few minutes.”
Well, probably for the better, I suppose. At least I got a cute outfit out of the situation, right?
“Sure,” I say, shrugging my shoulders. “I’m getting tired of sitting around here anyway.”
I get dressed, and he leads me out of the apartment, and I sigh once I get the moment to bask in the sun. The contrast between the hot sun and the sea-sprayed breeze is divine. Had I not just spent time tied up against my will, I would’ve probably wished to stay longer.
We’re walking at a steadily brisk pace toward his car when he takes my hand. His grip is firm. When I look up at him quizzically, he’s anything but flirtatious.
His expression is cautious, and his brow is furrowed in concentration, his gaze directed a few yards ahead of us.
I follow his eyes and see a couple of men leaning against the stone wall, blocking our path on the walkway. They certainly look out of place given how they’re dressed in matching black outfits and are staring right back at us.
“I don’t think they’re locals,” I say as my grip on his hand tightens.
“No,” he growls under his breath. “They’re not. Bollocks.”
I feel him pull me into a small alleyway. We duck into an alcove between two buildings. I let out a small gasp when he yanks my arm, but he quickly shushes me with a glare and a finger to my lips as he stills.
His chest is pressed against mine, and my back is against the cold stone wall of the building. My face is so close to his that I can almost taste his lips. My hands are shaking, and my eyes are wide as they dart around, looking for any signs of company.
I feel him give my hand a gentle squeeze as he looks down at me.
“Just follow my lead, yes? I think we can throw them off,” his voice, a low and soothing baritone, is more than a bit comforting right now.
“I’m not sure how we’re going to—”
I’m cut off as his lips take mine softly but eagerly into a kiss. His hand travels up and cups my face, and I lean into his touch. His thumb is making lazy circles on my cheek, and I start to pull away in alarm, but I stop when I realize that he’s creating a diversion.
I would’ve settled for a fake accent or hell—even just running away—but I guess playing the handsy couple isn’t such a bad disguise.
I can hear the two men running to the alleyway not far off and then stopping suddenly when they see the two of us kissing. I bring my hands up to his collar and pull him in closer to me, sighing against his lips as I do.
I can hear the two men bickering just down the lane. After a moment, they finally give up and depart, but the kiss between Griff and I lingers.
Until he breaks from our kiss that is.
Our lips part, and I feel his hot breath against my own. My heart is racing a thousand beats a second, but Griff’s is calm as can be.
“Thanks for playing along. Much more fun than running, I say, judging by the heels on those boots you’re wearing,” he says with a smirk that’s more charming than I’ll ever admit to him. “They would’ve caught up to us pretty quickly.”
Who does this guy think he’s dealing with? Some pathetic bimbo who doesn’t know how to do anything but look pretty in a designer dress?
I can do that, of course, but I’m also able to take care of myself.
Maybe not at this particular moment but most of the time.
I scoff and purse my lips together, giving a playful shove against his chest, which—if I’m being honest right now—is just oh-so-firm.
“Maybe you’re not aware of exactly who I am,” I snap. “But I’m not some girl who needs saving. I can hold my own.”
“Says the girl who got kidnapped and tied up,” he says with a chuckle and leans around the corner to check for signs of a threat.
I roll my eyes and follow him as he leads me through the alleyways. We get back out into the main street—after taking the long way—and the car’s already running by the time it’s in sight.
We make a break for it, but I groan when I feel a heavy thud against my back and an angry grip against the collar of my shirt.
“What the—?” I whip around to face my attacker.
My eyes are filled with the snarling face of one of the men from earlier.
He tries to shove a rag in my face—likely chloroform—and I throw a fist up at his jaw.
There’s a satisfying crack of bone against bone that sends him stumbling backward as he curses. My hand throbs with pain. I’ve never actually punched someone before.
I turn around to dish out the same punishment to the person behind me and gasp as my fist is deflected by a forearm. I duck, about to kick my assailant, but I stop myself in time as I come face to face with Griff, his eyes wide.
“Come on,” he urges as he pulls me towards the waiting car. “Get in!”
“You don’t have to tell me twice.”
My door isn’t even closed before the car lurches forward at Griff’s command.
If I thought my heart was racing just from kissing Griff, then it’s about to explode out of my chest now from all the adrenaline.
I turn to look out the back window. The two men try to run us down, but they give up their pursuit after only a handful of steps.
“Well, thank you,” I say with a sigh, looking over at Griff who’s watching to make sure we aren’t being followed. “Although, I was taking care of business.”
He simply shakes his head and narrows his gaze at me.
“Alright, listen. I can take you back to your hotel, but I’m pretty sure your security detail is going to be just as useless in helping you as they were before. And honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn one or two of them might be in on all this. I can keep you safe for now,” he says with a shrug. “But only if you come with me.”
My own security team setting me up? How is that possible?
I’ve known them for years.
I refuse to believe someone like Todd or Corey could be in on this.
And who does this guy think he is? Why should I trust him?
Sure, he’s the only person who’s kept me from being taken more than once today, but that doesn’t mean he gets some free pass.
My mind is a foggy storm of chaos. My body is exhausted and sore.
What do I have to lose at this point?
If nothing else, it’ll make for a great story for the girls when I get back.
I shrug and laugh, in disbelief at my own situation.
“Alright. Fuck it. Let’s go.”
He smiles at me with an approving nod. My eyes look out at the stretch of open road before us. I have no idea where we’re going, but I can’t care less.
This has been one hell of a birthday.
Chapter 8
Griffin
Whoever’s paying these guys to kidnap Kalista should give them a raise.
They’re nothing if not persistent.
I get it. When your eyes are on the prize, there’s no room to fuck about. And Kalista is one fine prize.
Dark hair, bright eyes, and a spirit that manages to ignite the room even when she’s tied to my bed frame.
By far, she’s one of the best things I’ve ever stolen.
But I suppose that it’s not stealing if your prize then turns around and decides she wants to stay. It doesn’t normally happen this way, but then again, if a painting or a diamond started bossing me about, I’d be less interested in keeping it.
I’ll keep Kalista around for a little while though. I do, after all, like to surround myself with beautiful things.
But we can’t stay here in France. If the heat from the Canary wasn’t about to light my arse on fire, the heat from her kidnappers might. But when that heat dies down, I’m going to move her back into the arms of dear old mummy and daddums.
I don’t need the kind of trouble that comes with a damsel in distress.
I’m spoiled for choices as to where we could go to lay low.
Vienna? Rome? Even London is nice this time of year.
Then, it hits me. I know exactly where we can go.
While Kalista packs the clothes I left in the wardrobe, I use my current phone to call a friend of mine. We call him Eagle—or rather Bald Eagle as a joke—because of the large patch where hair no longer grows on the back of his head.
He’s one of the best pilots on this side of the globe.
And why fly first class when you can fly private?
“Hey, Gryphon, what can I do for you?” Eagle’s voice emits through the receiver.
He’s cheerful as ever.
“How quickly can you give me a flight from the French Riviera to Barcelona? I’m in need of some sun.”
“Well, uh, if you give me an hour, I can take you. But I might be a bit longer.” Eagle’s voice changes from enthusiasm to trepidation.
“I want you here in thirty minutes, Eagle.” My voice hardens as I press into him.
He can be like this from time to time, but all it takes is a little reminder who his friends are.
“But I’d have to have left ten minutes ago, Gryphon.”
“Then get moving,” I say and peer through the door to check on Kalista. She’s almost finished. “Don’t forget who saved your arse in Moscow.”
There’s a sigh on the other end of the phone, and I know that I’ve won. After an event like Moscow, Eagle’s not in any position to say no to me.
“See you in forty-five minutes, Gryphon.”
“Thank you, Eagle.”
We take a taxi to the air field. I haven’t had time to change the license plates on the Lamborghini in the garage, so I shouldn’t really be caught driving it. Taxis are inconspicuous—and as much as I love a high speed chase as the next man—I don’t need the French authorities up my arse right now.
“So, where are we going?” Kalista asks as we step out of the taxi.
Eagle is here, ready and waiting at the end of the runway.
“On a little holiday.”
“Where to?”
“Somewhere sunny,” I tell her and take her bag out of the trunk.
I carry it to the plane, where Eagle is waiting. He tips his hat, and I can’t help but grin.
His balding has gotten worse.
“Enchanté, Madame. The name’s Eagle,” he says as Kalista approaches the stairs.
I let her walk up first, so that he can take her hand. I see the spread of Eagle’s thinning hair as he leans forward to kiss her hand.
She walks inside the plane. Both Eagle and myself enjoy the view.
The pilot grins toothily as he nudges me excitedly. “I’ve got a chance, eh?”
I shake my head and laugh. It wouldn’t hurt to let him live in hope, but it’s best I let him down before Kalista does it.
Once the plane is in the air, I message Leviathan and question him for answers about any recent kidnappings, or if there’s been any chatter recently about the von Knopfs. I leave Kalista’s name out of it for now. I trust Leviathan, but he doesn’t need to know there’s a woman involved.
Women tend to make him nervous.
Once the seat belt light sign has been switched off, Kalista is out of her seat. The curiosity of where we’re going is eating at her.
She sits down beside me and glares at me.
“Yes, love?” I ask, barely looking up from my phone—that’ll drive her wild.
“Where are we going?”
“I told you. On holiday. Somewhere sunny.”
“There was sun in France.”
I roll my eyes at her. “There were kidnappers in France.”
“There’s a kidnapper on this plane,” she shoots back—surprisingly quickly.
Kalista had been so shaken when she realized the men were after her still, but she seems to have adapted to the situation well.
It’s refreshing. I look up from my phone and raise an eyebrow.
She smirks back, raising both her brows as a challenge.
“So, why is the pilot called Eagle?” she asks instead, taking a different route.
“Because he flies,” I reply with a smirk that mirrors hers.
“So, it’s not because he’s bald?”
“Not completely.” I return my attention to my phone.
Leviathan still hasn’t replied, which is annoying considering the long hours I know he keeps. How he survives with such little sleep, I’ll never understand.
“So, do you have a code name?”
“Gryphon.”
“Your code name is your actual name?” She scoffs and stands from the seat to stretch those gorgeous legs.
“No. Gryphon. Like the creature in Alice in Wonderland.”
“So, your name but spelled differently? Real original.”
“You’re very funny, love,” I reply with a deadpan tone.
Her comment was actually quite funny, but I’m not about to let her know that.
“So, are you a spy? Are you James Bond?” Kalista asks as she stands before me.
I can feel her eyes land on my phone, but the screen goes black before she can read what I’ve been messaging Leviathan.
“Want to live out a fantasy, do you?” I stand up and look down at her.
I catch a glimpse down her top and breathe in the smell of her. It’s a sweet scent, but there’s a bite to her perfume. It reminds me of grapefruit and pomegranates with a hint of rose.
“With you, Griffin? I’d like to live out many fantasies,” she whispers seductively into my ear.
>
It sets the hair on the back of my neck on end. My cock begins to stir, but I take a deep breath and calm myself.
Come on, Griff. You’re not some green-fingered tea-leaf.
You won’t be made a right tit out of by some seductive heiress.
“Yeah? Maybe once we land,” I say, grinning up at her as I sit back down. “I don’t want to give Eagle a heart attack with a free show. I’d very much prefer it if we made it to our destination alive.”
“Will it be our final destination?” Kalista asks with a raised eyebrow.
She pushes her chest together slightly. I look at her breasts—not caring if she catches me looking—and then she stands up again.
Aimlessly, she begins to wander about the cabin. She’s not a woman that does well in captivity it seems, but then I’m not all that different myself. It’s no wonder she was so eager to take a break from her life.
And on a personal note, I could watch her walk around this plane all day.
When she’s no longer hovering over my shoulder, I return to my phone. I call ahead to Barcelona to make arrangements for a driver to meet us at the airport.
I don’t doubt that Kalista can understand most of what I’m saying. I’d be more surprised if she didn’t.
But it’s fun to drop her little hints, to watch her mind tick over all the clues in an effort to decipher everything is entertaining. My own in-flight movie so to speak.
It’s probably cruel to treat her this way—she’s just had to endure an attempted kidnapping—and the poor girl doesn’t really need more mind games when she’s trying to figure out who she can trust.
But she probably shouldn’t trust me.
The sooner she realizes that, perhaps the better.
So for now, I’ll play.
Chapter 9
Kalista
The scene outside the airplane window turns golden as we cross the Mediterranean, and enter Spain.
When Griffin told me that I had to start packing—not that I had any of my own clothes outside of the night gown I wore after the party—he told me that it’d be sunny and that I should pack a bikini. He probably would’ve said that even if he was taking me to Iceland or even Antarctica.
