Keep Me

Chapter 2

2

Nora

Sitting there in Julian’s embrace, I feel the familiar hum of excitement mixed with trepidation. Our separation hasn’t changed him one bit. He’s still the same man who almost killed Jake, who didn’t hesitate to kidnap a girl he wanted.

He’s also the man who nearly died rescuing me.

Now that I know what happened to him, I can see the physical signs of his ordeal. He’s leaner than before, his tan skin stretched tightly over sharp cheekbones. There is a ragged pink scar on his left ear, and his dark hair is extra-short. On the left side of his skull, the growth pattern of that hair is a bit uneven, as though it’s concealing a scar there as well.

Despite those tiny imperfections, he’s still the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I can’t tear my eyes away from him.

He’s alive. Julian is alive, and I’m with him again.

It still seems so surreal. Up until this morning, I thought he was dead. I was convinced he had died in the explosion. For four long, excruciating months, I had been forcing myself to be strong, to get on with my life and try to forget the man sitting next to me right now.

The man who stole my freedom.

The man I love.

Raising my left hand, I gently trace the outline of his lips with my index finger. He’s got the most incredible mouth I have ever seen—a mouth made for sin. At my touch, his beautiful lips part, and he catches the tip of my finger with his sharp white teeth, biting down on it lightly, then sucking my finger into his mouth.

A tremor of arousal runs through me as his warm, wet tongue laves my finger. My inner muscles clench, and I can feel my underwear getting damp. God, I’m so easy when it comes to him. One look, one touch, and I want him. My s*x feels swollen and slightly sore after the way he f****d me earlier, but my body aches for him to take me again.

Julian is alive, and he’s taking me away again.

As that fact begins to sink in, I pull my finger away from his lips, a sudden chill feathering over my skin and cooling my desire. There’s no turning back now, no possibility of changing my mind. Julian is again in charge of my life, and this time I’d willingly flown into the spider’s web, placing myself at his mercy.

Of course, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had been unwilling, I remind myself. I remember the syringe in Julian’s pocket, and I know that the outcome would’ve been the same regardless. Conscious or sedated, I would’ve been accompanying him today. For some messed-up reason, that fact makes me feel better, and I place my head back on Julian’s shoulder, letting myself relax against him.

It’s futile to fight against one’s destiny, and I’m starting to accept that fact.

With traffic, our ride to the airport takes a little over an hour. To my surprise, we don’t go to O’Hare. Instead we end up at a small airstrip where a sizable plane awaits our arrival. I can make out the letters ‘G650’ on its tail.

“Is that yours?” I ask as Julian opens the car door for me.

“Yes.” He doesn’t look at me or elaborate further. Instead his gaze appears to be scanning our surroundings, as though looking for hidden threats. There is an alertness to his manner that I don’t remember seeing before, and for the first time, I realize that the island was his sanctuary as well, a place where he could truly relax and let down his guard.

As soon as I climb out, Julian grips my elbow and ushers me toward the plane. The driver follows us. I didn’t see him before, as a panel separated the backseat area of the car from the front, so now I sneak a glance at him as we walk toward the plane.

The guy must be one of Julian’s Navy SEALs. His blond hair is cut short, and his pale eyes are ice-cold in his square-jawed face. He’s even taller than Julian, and he moves with the same athletic, warrior-like grace, his every movement carefully controlled. There is a huge assault rifle in his hands, and I have no doubt that he knows exactly how to use it. Another dangerous man… one that many women would undoubtedly find attractive, with his regular features and muscular body. He doesn’t appeal to me, but I’m spoiled. Few men can hold a candle to Julian’s dark-angel allure.

“What kind of a plane is this?” I ask Julian as we walk up the steps and enter a luxurious cabin. I don’t know anything about private jets, but this one looks fancy. I’m doing my best not to gawk at everything, but I’m failing miserably. The cream-colored leather seats inside are huge, and there is an actual couch with a coffee table in front of it. There is also an open door leading to the back of the airplane, and I catch a glimpse of a king-size bed sitting there.

My mouth falls open in shock. The plane has a bedroom.

“It’s one of the higher-end Gulfstreams,” he replies, turning me so he can help me take off my coat. His warm hands brush against my neck, sending a pleasant shiver through me. “An ultra-long-range business jet. It can take us directly to our destination without needing to make a fuel stop.”

“It’s very nice,” I say, watching as Julian hangs my coat in the closet by the door and then takes off his own jacket. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I realize that a part of me still fears that this is not real—that I’ll wake up and find out that this was all just a dream… that Julian had truly died in the explosion.

The thought causes a shudder to run through me, and Julian notices my involuntary movement. “Are you cold?” he asks, stepping toward me. “I can have the temperature adjusted.”

“No, I’m fine.” Nevertheless, I enjoy Julian’s warmth as he pulls me toward him and rubs my arms for a few seconds. I can feel the heat of his body seeping through my clothes, chasing away the memory of those awful months when I thought I’d lost him.

Wrapping my arms around Julian’s waist, I hug him fiercely. He’s alive, and I have him with me. That’s all that matters now.

“We’re ready for takeoff.” An unfamiliar male voice startles me, and I let go of Julian, looking back to see the blond driver standing there, watching us with an unreadable expression on his hard face.

“Good.” Julian keeps his arm around me, pressing me against his side when I try to step away. “Nora, this is Lucas. He’s the one who dragged me out of the warehouse.”

“Oh, I see.” I beam at the man, my smile wide and genuine. This man had saved Julian’s life. “It’s very nice to meet you, Lucas. I can’t even begin to thank you for what you did—”

His eyebrows arch a little, as though I said something that surprised him. “I was just doing my job,” he says, his voice deep and slightly amused.

The corner of Julian’s mouth lifts in a faint smile, but he doesn’t respond to that. Instead he asks, “Is everything ready for us at the estate?”

Lucas nods. “All set.” Then he looks at me, his face as expressionless as before. “It’s nice to meet you too, Nora.” And turning around, he disappears into the pilot’s area at the front.

“He drives and flies planes for you?” I ask Julian after Lucas is gone.

“He’s very versatile,” Julian says, leading me toward the plush seats. “Most of my men are.”

As soon as we sit down, a strikingly beautiful dark-haired woman comes into the cabin from somewhere in the front. Her white dress appears to have been poured on her curves, and with the full layer of makeup she has on, she looks as glamorous as a movie star—except for the tray with a champagne bottle and two glasses she’s holding in her hands.

Her gaze lands on me briefly before sliding over to Julian. “Would you like anything else, Mr. Esguerra?” she asks as she bends down to place the tray on the table between our seats. Her voice is soft and melodic, and the hungry way she looks at Julian sets my teeth on edge.

“This should suffice for now. Thank you, Isabella,” he says, giving her a brief smile, and I feel a sudden sharp stab of jealousy. Julian told me once that he hadn’t f****d anyone else since meeting me, but I still can’t help wondering if he had s*x with this woman at some point in the past. She looks like a bombshell, and her manner makes it clear she would be more than willing to bring Julian anything he wants—including herself, naked on a silver platter.

Before my thoughts can travel any further down that road, I take a deep breath and force myself to look out the window at the slowly falling snow. A part of me knows that this whole thing is insane, that it’s illogical to feel so possessive about Julian. Any rational woman would be overjoyed to have her kidnapper’s attention deflected away from her, but I’m no longer rational when it comes to him.

Stockholm Syndrome. Capture-bonding. Traumatic bonding. My therapist had used all of these terms during our few brief sessions together. She had been trying to get me to talk about my feelings for Julian, but it had been too painful for me to discuss the man I’d thought I lost, so I stopped going to her. I did look up the terms later, though, and I can see why they would be applicable to my experience. I don’t know if it’s as simple as that, though, or if it even matters at this point. Naming something doesn’t make it go away. Whatever the cause of my emotional attachment to Julian, I can’t turn it off. I can’t make myself love him any less.

By the time I turn back to face Julian, the flight attendant is gone from the main cabin. I can hear the jet engines roaring to life, and I automatically fasten my safety belt, as I’d been taught to do my whole life.

“Champagne?” he asks, reaching for the bottle at the table.

“Sure, why not,” I say, and watch him deftly pour me a glass.

He hands it to me, and I sit back in my spacious seat, sipping the bubbly drink as the plane starts rolling.

My new life with Julian has begun.