‘‘Guess I’d better change my shirt.’’
‘‘Pack,’’ he said. The single word echoed harshly, like a door slamming shut.
What more could she say, except, ‘‘Yes. I guess I’d better do that.’’
For once, he didn’t fall in behind her as she turned for the hall. Great, she thought. She could use a break. A few precious minutes to herself, to get past her shameless disappointment at losing her chance to get lost in his arms.
Elli paused in the doorway to her bedroom. She leaned her forehead against the doorframe and shut her eyes and wished it didn’t have to be like this.
Maybe she should just look on the bright side. At least for a few unforgettable minutes there, she’d had a taste of what it might be like to be Hauk Fitz-Wyborn’s love….
Elli drew herself up. Really, looking on the bright side just wasn’t going to cut it. She unbuttoned the shirt that was still wet from his kiss and went to the bathroom to toss it in the hamper.
Okay, so he’d been saved by the bell. This time.
In her bedroom, she pushed open her closet door.
He still had a commitment to escort her to Gullandria. And after they got there, she might find ways to see him, to be near him.
She took a jewel-blue silk shirt from a hanger, put her arms in the sleeves and buttoned it up.
Why not think positively? She wanted him, she cared for him. And as hard as he kept fighting it, she believed in her heart that he wanted and cared for her, too.
He’d let down his guard once. It could happen again. Maybe she’d get another chance to show him just how strongly she felt for him. And maybe next time, he wouldn’t push her away.
She got her big suitcase and hoisted it to the bed, laying it open. Standing very still, she listened. She heard nothing. Hauk could move so quietly. He might be standing in the doorway right now.
She shot a glance over her shoulder.
Empty.
Good. She listened some more and ended up deciding she felt reasonably certain he’d yet to leave the kitchen. He didn’t want to be near her right now. He needed a little time to marshal his defenses against her.
Suited her just fine.
She went to the tall dresser by the inner wall and pulled open the top drawer—all the way open, so she could get to the very back of it.
Her hand closed on the box that she’d pushed in there a few months ago. She’d been dating someone then, on a regular basis. She’d thought that maybe it might become more than it was.
But the relationship had cooled before it ever really heated up. In the meantime, though, she’d bought the box of condoms, just in case.
Right now, with Hauk, it was much more than a just in case situation. If a miracle happened and he held out his arms to her, she would run to him, eagerly. Better safe than sorry, if her dreams did come true.
At ten-thirty, she was ready to go. She got her passport from the desk in the spare room. She was slipping it into her purse when Hauk appeared in the doorway.
‘‘Are you ready?’’
She thought of the box of condoms and she almost let out a wild little laugh. ‘‘Um-hm.’’
‘‘Your suitcase?’’
‘‘In my bedroom.’’
He turned toward the door to her room.
She followed behind him. ‘‘I packed my overnighter, too. And I can carry both bags myself, honestly. The big one has those rollers and…’’ She let her voice trail off. There was no point in saying more.
He slung the strap of the smaller bag over his shoulder and he grabbed the handle of the big suitcase and headed for the front door.
Fine. Let him haul it all down the stairs by himself if he wanted to. She checked the lock on the patio door and made sure all the lights were out. He waited for her by the front door, laden with her bags and that big black duffel of his, too.
She opened the door and gestured him out ahead of her. At the base of the stairs, she turned for the carports.
‘‘No,’’ he said. ‘‘Follow me.’’ He led her out another way, to a side street and a black van.
‘‘Tinted windows,’’ she remarked. ‘‘An absolute necessity when it comes to kidnapping unwilling princesses.’’
It was a bad joke and it fell flat. He didn’t bother to respond.
She just couldn’t leave it at that. ‘‘I suppose you’ll want me to drive. You’ll need your hands free to keep me under control. Then again, who knows? If I’m behind the wheel, I could go wild, decide to make a break for Bakersfield.’’
He was already turning for the driver’s door himself. ‘‘Just get in.’’
Her father’s Gulfstream jet had a roomy pressurized cabin furnished with six high-backed leather seats, teak tables beside them. There were also a collapsible dividing wall and a full-size bed that could be pulled down to make the divided-off space into a flying bedroom.
‘‘Does Your Highness wish a nap?’’ the attendant inquired. She was a tall blonde in a slim black skirt and a crisp white shirt. She had a blue-and-gold lightning bolt embroidered on her pocket as well as on the crest of her jaunty-looking red garrison cap.
‘‘No, thanks.’’ Elli took one of the high-backed leather chairs as Hauk, shoulders hunched, golden head grazing the ceiling, moved farther down the cabin.
‘‘Refreshment?’’
‘‘Not right now.’’ Elli’s mind wasn’t on food. She resisted the urge to lean out of her seat and look back at Hauk. He’d been depressingly silent on the drive to the airport—not that his silence was anything all that new or different. It only seemed that way, after those beautiful, too-brief moments in his arms.
‘‘Fasten your seatbelt,’’ said the flight attendant. ‘‘We’ll be cleared for takeoff soon.’’
Elli nodded and smiled and the attendant left her alone. She looked out the window as they taxied along the runway. It all seemed so… civilized, the attractive attendant, the beautifully appointed jet. She couldn’t help wondering what the attendant might have said to her had Hauk brought her on board all tied up with a gag in her mouth.
Probably nothing. The woman would have pulled the collapsible divider across the cabin and brought down the bed and Hauk would have dropped Elli on it without anyone asking if she’d care for a nap.
It would be a long flight, but it would be nonstop. Hauk sat in his seat and tried not to stare at her seat in front of him. The sky out the window was clear. Fat white clouds drifted below the wing.
It was over—their time together. In the end, his sense of duty and his understanding of his place in the world had triumphed. He hadn’t succumbed to the desperate hunger that would have caused her nothing but shame and heartache and cost him more than he cared to contemplate. He told himself he was glad it had gone no further between them.
An indiscreet embrace and a few passionate kisses—more than he should have allowed to happen. But not total disaster. Thanks to a ringing phone, he’d stopped it in time.
He was weary. Of everything. Hauk shut his eyes and allowed himself to disappear into the first deep sleep he’d known in days.
He woke, startled, when the plane dropped several hundred feet and then slammed against an air current below.