Air Bound

by Christine Feehan

  The wind shifted, just the smallest bit, sending the gauze wraps that Maxim had removed from her feet earlier fluttering on the lounger. The captain lifted the assault rifle and sprayed the entire area with bullets.

  She flattened herself against the wall, shocked at the sound of the gun as it spewed what seemed like a million bullets. She didn’t think he’d ever stop. The sound hurt her ears and she couldn’t stop herself from covering them.

  The captain must have caught that little flash of movement and he started to turn toward her, the rifle still spitting bullets. She froze, unable to move even as the barrel began to swing around.

  Maxim kicked away from the ceiling, diving headfirst, slamming into the captain hard, driving him over sideways, his hands grabbing the rifle. Airiana jammed her fist into her mouth as the two men struggled for possession of the weapon. The captain still had his finger on the trigger and tried desperately to turn the barrel toward Maxim.

  She became aware of the dart gun still in her fist. Without giving herself time to think about it, she crawled forward. She had to crawl over Boris’s body. Grateful that she was small, and could fit in tight places, she moved around Maxim to get to the other side of the captain.

  What the hell are you doing? If I move my finger he can pull the trigger and kill you. Get the hell away from here.

  She ignored the warning and kept crawling, telling herself she was a tiny spider on the deck and the captain wouldn’t see her. The two men were grunting and cursing, their heels drumming at each another while both fought for control of the rifle. She pushed herself into the small space between the captain and the wall.

  Damn it, shoot the bastard if you’re going to. What are you waiting for?

  She’d been so focused on getting to the captain’s neck, it hadn’t occurred to her that she could dart him anywhere. She pressed the gun against his thigh and pulled the trigger. Just for good measure she shot him again in his chest. The drug was fast acting and hit the captain hard. His eyes rolled back in his head and he went limp.

  Maxim tore the rifle from his hands and glared at her. “Are you deliberately trying to get yourself killed? Airiana, all he had to do was push that muzzle toward you and squeeze the trigger.”

  She let the dart gun fall from her hand, drew up her knees and put her head down on top of them. Her eyes burned with tears, her throat was clogged with them. There was no way to stop them, no way to keep not just her eyes from weeping, but her entire body. She’d killed a man, using gifts meant for good. The world around her was complete madness.

  Maxim felt as if she’d just delivered a wicked punch straight to his heart. He’d made her cry. Really cry. Her entire body was shaking and she’d wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, locking him out.

  “I’m sorry. You just scared me, honey. It’s no big deal. You’re safe. I’m safe. We’re good.” He used his most soothing voice. She had to stop. What was wrong with him that he could be tortured and yet couldn’t stand the sight of her crying? How cliché was that?

  “I want to go home. Can you just take me home?”

  Airiana lifted her head abruptly, her sky blue eyes wet with tears. It was worse looking at her like that than listening to her. The impact was a knife through his heart, much worse than a punch.

  “I’ll get you home, baby. Just stop.” He reached over the captain and lifted her into his arms, cradling her against his chest. She winced as if lifting her hurt her physically. “I know it doesn’t seem like it, but we’re much closer to our goal.”

  She held herself stiff, as if she couldn’t bear his touch, and that hurt worse than if she’d just slapped him. He had to give her something—a truth about himself. Something she would recognize was more than an apology. He searched for the right thing, feeling a little desperate, needing to make things right between them.

  “I never considered that I might have a double standard, Airiana, but I do. I wasn’t given a choice when I was taken from my family and placed in that school. There was no running away, no way to be anything but what they wanted me to be. I became what they made me.”

  He nuzzled her neck. Inhaled her scent. She was warm and soft and made for him. He had known that from the first time he’d researched her.

  “The point, Airiana, is I had no choice. I made up my mind that, although I had to accept the hand dealt to me, never again would I be in a position where I had no choice.”

  She was listening to him. The tension hadn’t left her body and she wasn’t melting into him the way he wanted her to, but still, she was listening.

  “Clearly I’m not good at explaining myself. I’ve never had to, nor have I wanted to. But you came along and my well-ordered world was turned upside down. Inside out. You messed with my head. I had no choice when it came to you, honey.”

  There. It was out. He made it sound so matter-of-fact, not at all like the fire raging in his soul. He hadn’t wanted to want her. He didn’t want a woman he was destined for. He didn’t want a woman at all. She complicated everything. She left him with no choices—something he’d vowed would never happen again, and he was damned angry with her.

  He turned her hand over and pried open her fingers, exposing her palm. His thumb brushed over the center and for a moment the two interconnected circles appeared beneath her skin and just as quickly disappeared. He sighed. “Baby, you have to stop crying. I’m trying to tell you something important and I can’t think straight when you’re like this.” If he could have ordered her to stop, he would have.

  She leaned her head against his chest and looked up at him with tear-drenched eyes. “I’m listening.”

  He nodded and pressed a kiss into her palm. “I have this anger inside of me, buried so deep and it never gets let out—I wouldn’t dare let it out. I don’t even know how to let it out anymore, which is a good thing. It just sits there, smoldering like a volcano, and once in a while it tries to surface. You changed my world, and I put you deep inside, where all that anger resides. I didn’t want some slip of a woman forcing me to put my mark on her. I knew what it meant, and I knew neither of us would ever be free again, but, still, for all my discipline, all my training, I couldn’t stop myself.”

  Airiana frowned and looked down at her palm. “I had nothing to do with that.”

  “A man in my position lives with absolute discipline. Everything I do or say is planned carefully. I don’t have compulsions I can’t overcome. That would be suicide. But I couldn’t stop myself from putting my mark on you. I tied us together.”

  “Shouldn’t I be the one angry?”

  “Yes. I can concede you’re right—even logical—but crazy, out-of-control emotions don’t make sense, and I have never chosen to live with emotions or be dictated to by them. Until I met you. All along you’ve screwed me up.”

  Airiana finally relaxed into him completely, melting like she did, so that she felt a part of him. How could he explain to her how that felt? He was a man apart. He didn’t have a woman melt into him. He didn’t feel as if they shared the same mind or the same skin.

  “Still, I offered myself to you and you rejected me.”

  He winced at the hurt in her voice. He hadn’t had sex with her—something that was always calculated. He didn’t want that and refused to allow his mind or body to go in that direction with her.

  “I’ve never made love to a woman. I’ve had sex a million times, I won’t lie, but I’ve never made love to a woman, and if I get that chance again, in the right time and the right place, I want it to be with you.”

  He kissed her palm again and brought it to his face, rubbing it along his shadowed jaw. “I know I sound a little crazy right now, but that’s the way you make me feel. I just thought you should know.”

  He waited, holding her palm to his jaw, willing her to understand when he wasn’t certain he understood what he was trying to tell her. An apology for rejecting her offer?
A confession of anger because she made him feel something? That made no sense. Nothing he’d done after meeting her made any sense at all.

  “You do realize I just killed a man, Maxim. I used the wind to push him overboard. I heard his back break and I don’t think I’ll ever get the sound out of my head. You’re telling me how you feel while we’re on a yacht out in the middle of nowhere and most of the crew is either dead or drugged.”

  “I’m very aware of those things, yes,” he said.

  She sighed. “Just checking that we’re on the same page, because I’m a little bit upset over it all. Especially the killing part.”

  “Really? The killing seemed the least of it all to me. I’m upset over your crying. That just has to stop. You do it just a little too much, and I think my hair is going a little gray.”

  “Killing is wrong.”

  “Not if it’s in self-defense, honey, and you were defending yourself.” He was still inside. Waiting. She was turning what he’d said over and over in her mind. He needed acceptance from her.

  Airiana sighed and pushed her fingers through his hair. “I don’t see any gray, Maxim. Tell me the rest. I need to hear everything.”

  Everything made him even more vulnerable. Maybe that’s what love was, and he didn’t want to go there. He had no choice again. She wasn’t about choices, only truth. “I don’t want to love you. Not a woman like you. Loving you would be terrifying, Airiana, every minute of every day. I was terrified as a child and again, swore I wouldn’t ever be as an adult—and I haven’t been, no matter the circumstances—until you.”

  She pressed her lips together as if stopping herself from condemning him. He couldn’t blame her if she did. He’d tied them together and then run for his life. The silence stretched between him, taking away his choices again. She wasn’t going to give herself to him again. He understood that. She’d offered once and he’d thrown her offer back in her face.

  “You’re the kind of woman that consumes a man. I can’t get you out of my head. I’ll never be free of you. I know that already and I haven’t shared your body yet.” He’d slipped up and used the word yet. There was a part of him already accepting that he couldn’t walk away from her. He could use every excuse, but he wasn’t that strong.

  “You make loving me sound like it just possibly could be the worst thing in the world. Worse than the life you lead now.”

  He winced. He supposed as a declaration of love, he hadn’t done a very good job. “I suppose you could take it like that.”

  For a moment the storm in her eyes grew a little turbulent and he braced himself for her answer. He’d never exposed himself to anyone like that in his life. He’d never looked into his soul, let alone showed who he was to another human being. She had such power over him, and that was the problem. He didn’t want anyone to have that kind of control over him.

  Her gaze softened and she nuzzled his chest. “I’m going to take everything you said as a compliment. Thank you for thinking I’m worth loving, even though you don’t want to love me. I can understand feeling as if you don’t have a choice.” She lifted her face and bit him gently on his chin. “Just remember, you aren’t in this alone. You may think you are, but I’m right here with you. I didn’t have a choice when you did the palm thing. I can’t help being drawn to you. There are two of us feeling this way, not one.”

  He nodded slowly. He felt he could breathe again. His lungs actually felt raw, burning from lack of air, but the moment the storm clouds had faded from her eyes, the moment she indicated she understood, the world righted itself.

  “I’ll remember that, honey, I promise. You just work very hard on the crying thing. You could be the perfect woman without that little flaw.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “Flaw? You might be the perfect man if you didn’t actually open your mouth and speak.”

  The storm was back, at least threatening to come back. He could see it in her eyes. “On further thought, flaw would not be the correct word.”

  Laughter broke through the storm clouds. “Nice retraction. Can we get out of here now before something else happens? I have this really awful feeling and I don’t think I can take any more killing. Or drugging. It’s one thing to read about all these awful people in the news; it’s another to actually deal with them in person.”

  “Why is it that every time you shift position you wince?”

  “Gorya knew some monkey form of martial arts and kicked the crap out of me,” she admitted. “There isn’t a place on my body that doesn’t hurt. My eye is throbbing and my feet feel like they’re on fire.”

  His heart skipped a beat. Gorya could have killed her. She hadn’t said anything to him, or cried out for help. She’d just railed at the fact that she had a difficult time darting the steward. He resisted the urge to shake her. There it was, that anger welling up because he could have lost her. She had no business being in danger. “You’re a mess.”

  She bit his chin again, this time a little harder.

  “What was that for?”

  “For what you were just thinking.”

  “You can’t possibly know what I was thinking. I have a stone face. No one reads me.”

  “I can read you, so stop thinking idiotic thoughts. You kidnapped me and brought me into danger. Had it not been for you, I’d be safe at home.”

  “I saved you from Evan’s men,” he said. “That should count for something.”

  “Well, it doesn’t. I’ve seen what you can do. If you’d wanted, you could have wiped up the floor with Evan’s men and none of this would have happened. You were too busy taking me to meet dear old Dad, and to be honest, I wasn’t all that thrilled with him.”

  He nodded solemnly. “That could have been a mistake on my part.”

  “You liked him, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” he conceded a bit grudgingly. “As far as I ever like anyone. He seemed genuinely interested in you and excited to meet you.”

  “I’m certain that he was—but for all the wrong reasons.”

  “Do you think you can stand up on your own?” he asked.

  “I’ve been giving that some thought,” she replied. “It depends on what we do next.”

  “I thought we might take this yacht in close to shore and get the hell off of it.”

  Her eyebrow shot up. “Off of it. That part sounds good, but close to shore is not so good. That requires getting in the water again. I have cuts on my feet, and there are sharks in the water.”

  “You’re a little obsessed with sharks.”

  “I’m a little obsessed with not getting eaten by one,” she corrected. She sighed, the amusement fading. She closed her eyes and snuggled deeper against him. “Do you ever get to sleep, Maxim? Because I think I could sleep for a week.”

  He wanted to tell her it was all right, but like Airiana, he felt alarms were going off. He held her tighter, while he went still, listening to the wind, feeling the air around them. The yacht moved slowly through the water on autopilot, allowing him to get a good feel for everything around them. Out in the distance there was a boat, but it was small and didn’t appear to be following them. Still . . . something wasn’t quite right.

  He rubbed his chin over the top of her head, trying to give her a few minutes. He knew he was going to ask her to get back in the water—the one thing she was most terrified of. His every instinct was to shield her, to protect her, yet, he was going to force her back into the sea at night.

  Strands of her hair caught in the rough shadow on his jaw, weaving them together. Earlier, it would have bothered him, the need to find things that would hold her to him, but right now, when he was trying to comfort her, he found the little things like those threads binding them comforted him as well.

  “Thanks for listening to me, baby. I know I’m not the easiest man in the world to understand. Hell. I don’t understand myself, but at least you give i
t a try.”

  “You’re not that bad, Maxim,” she replied without opening her eyes. “You’re just a little mixed up right now. I am too. We need a minute to just stay still. Maybe if we don’t move, nothing bad will happen.”

  He knew it didn’t work like that. His alarms were beginning to affect his gut, tying him up in knots, always a bad sign. He took a breath and let it out. “I’m going to put you on the lounger and gather our things for a quick exit. I’d like to take us as close to shore as possible.”

  “We’re really going to have to swim again, aren’t we?” she asked.

  He thought it significant that she didn’t open her eyes or protest. She was too damned tired. “I’d give anything to keep us from having to make the swim, but it isn’t safe to stay aboard too much longer. The captain had to have reported to Sorbacov, and he’ll have people waiting in every harbor.”

  He hoped that was his greatest worry, but he feared it was Evan Shackler-Gratsos. The shipping magnate had plenty of time to send his mercenaries after them. He was certain his gut wouldn’t be acting the way it was if they weren’t close.

  “I’m going to sleep until you say it’s time to go,” she announced.

  He stood up in one swift move, cradling her in his arms. “I have to take a look at you. I need to know if anything is broken or cracked. The closer we get to shore, the harder it can be.”

  “I doubt if anything’s broken, but I can’t honestly say for sure,” she admitted. “I really hurt.”

  She didn’t even sound as if she was complaining. He had to admit to himself that was one of the things he found endearing about her. She could have been a pain in the ass. He’d kidnapped her and exposed her to danger, to killing, to a human trafficking ring, even forcing her to face her worst fear—swimming in the ocean—but she didn’t complain. She used humor to get her through.

  He placed her gently on the lounger, not liking the rush of air escaping her lungs when he put her down, but she didn’t cry out. “I’ll be right back. I don’t want any unexpected surprises from our captain.”