Hold Me

Chapter 15-1

15

Nora

I’m going home. Oh my God, I’m going home.

Even now, as I look out the window of the plane at the clouds below, I can hardly believe this is happening. Only two weeks have passed since our conversation at breakfast, and here we are, on our way to Oak Lawn.

“This plane is nothing like what I’ve seen on TV,” Rosa says, gazing around the luxurious interior of the cabin. “I mean, I knew we wouldn’t be flying on a regular airline, but this is really nice, Nora.”

I grin at her. “Yes, I know. The first time I saw it, I had the same reaction.” I sneak a quick glance at Julian, who’s sitting on the couch with his laptop, seemingly ignoring our conversation. He told me he’s planning to meet with his portfolio manager while we’re in Chicago, so I’m guessing he’s going over prospective investments in preparation. It’s either that or the latest drone design modification from his engineers; that project has been taking up a lot of his time this week.

“My first time flying, and it’s on a private jet. Can you believe it? The only way this could be better is if we were going to New York,” Rosa says, bringing my attention back to her. Her brown eyes are bright with excitement, and she’s practically bouncing in her plush leather seat. She’s been like this for several days, ever since I got Julian to agree to have her come with us to America—something my friend has been dreaming about for years.

“Chicago is pretty nice too,” I say, amused at her unintentional snobbery. “It’s a cool city, you’ll see.”

“Oh, of course.” Realizing she insulted my home, Rosa flushes. “I’m sure it’s great, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful,” she says quickly, looking distraught. “I know you’re only bringing me along because you’re nice, and I’m ecstatic to be going—”

“Rosa, you’re coming along because I need you,” I interrupt, not wanting her to go into this in front of Julian. “You’re the only one Ana trusts to make my morning smoothies, and you know I need those vitamins.”

Or at least that’s what I told my obsessively protective husband when I asked to have Rosa come with us. I’m fairly certain I could’ve made the smoothies myself—or just swallowed the vitamin pills—but I wanted to make sure he’d allow my friend to join us. To this day, I’m not sure if he agreed because he believed me, or because he didn’t have any objections to begin with. Either way, I don’t want Rosa to inadvertently rock the boat… or the private jet, as the case may be.

It still doesn’t feel entirely real, the fact that we’re on our way to see my parents. The past two weeks have simply flown by. With all the exams and papers, I barely had time to think about the upcoming trip. It wasn’t until three days ago that I was able to catch my breath and realize that the trip was, in fact, happening, and Julian had already made all the necessary preparations, beefing up the security around my parents to White House levels.

“Oh, yes, the smoothies,” Rosa says, shooting a cautious look in Julian’s direction. She finally caught on. “Of course, I forgot. And I’ll be helping to unpack all the art supplies, so you don’t overtire yourself.”

“Right, exactly.” I give her a conspiratorial grin. “Can’t have me lifting heavy canvases and all that.”

At that moment, the plane shakes, and Rosa’s face turns white, her excitement evaporating. “What—what is that?”

“Just turbulence,” I say, breathing slowly to combat an immediate swell of nausea. I’m still not entirely out of the morning-sickness phase, and the plane’s jerky motion is not helpful.

“We won’t crash, will we?” Rosa asks fearfully, and I shake my head to reassure her. When I glance over at Julian, however, I see that he’s looking at me, his face unusually tense and his knuckles white as he grips the computer.

Without thinking, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get up, wanting to go over to him. If Rosa is afraid of crashing, I can only imagine how Julian must feel, having experienced a crash less than three months ago.

“What are you doing?” Julian’s voice is sharp as he stands up, dropping the computer on the couch. “Sit down, Nora. It’s not safe.”

“I just—”

Before I finish speaking, he’s already next to me, forcing me back into the seat and strapping me in. “Sit,” he barks, glaring at me. “Did you not promise to behave?”

“Yes, but I just—” At the expression on Julian’s face, I fall silent before muttering, “Never mind.”

Still glaring at me, he steps back and takes a seat across from me and Rosa. She looks uncomfortable, her hands twisting in her lap as she gazes out the window. I feel bad for her; I’m sure it’s awkward to see her friend being treated like a disobedient child.

“I don’t want you to fall if the plane hits an air pocket,” Julian says in a calmer tone when I show no further signs of trying to get up. “It’s not safe to be walking around the cabin during turbulence.”

I nod and focus on breathing slowly. It helps with both nausea and anger. Sometimes I forget the facts and start thinking that we have a normal marriage, a partnership of equals, instead of… well, whatever it is we have. On paper, I might be Julian’s wife, but in reality, I’m far closer to his s*x slave.

A s*x slave who’s desperately in love with her owner.

Closing my eyes, I find a comfortable position in the middle of the spacious leather seat and try to relax.

It’s going to be a long flight.

“Wake up, baby.” Warm lips brush against my forehead as my seatbelt is unbuckled. “We’re here.”

I open my eyes, blinking slowly. “What?”

Julian smiles at me, his blue gaze filled with amusement as he stands in front of me. “You slept the entire way. You must’ve been exhausted.”

I had been a bit tired—the aftermath of all the studying and packing—but an eight-hour nap is a new record for me. Must be those pregnancy hormones again.

Covering a yawn with my hand, I get up and see Rosa already standing by the exit, holding her backpack. “We landed,” she says brightly. “I barely felt the plane touch down. Lucas must be an amazing pilot.”

“He is good,” Julian agrees, wrapping a cashmere shawl around my shoulders. When I give him a questioning look, he explains, “It’s only sixty-eight degrees outside. I don’t want you to get cold.”

I suppress the urge to snicker. Only someone from the tropics would consider sixty-eight degrees “cold”—though, to be fair, it probably is a bit chilly for the short-sleeved dress I’m wearing. Chicago weather in late May is unpredictable, with cool spring days interspersed with summer-like heat. Julian himself is dressed in a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, button-up shirt.

“Thank you,” I say, looking at him. On some level, I do find his concern touching, even if he takes it too far these days. Of course, it doesn’t hurt that the feel of his large hands on my shoulders makes me want to melt against him, even with Rosa standing only a few feet away.

“You’re welcome, baby,” he says huskily, holding my gaze, and I know he feels it too—this deep, inexplicable pull we have toward one another. I don’t know if it’s chemistry or something else, but it ties us together more securely than any rope.

The clanging of the plane door opening snaps me out of whatever spell I was under. Startled, I step back, grabbing the shawl so it doesn’t fall. Julian gives me a look that promises a continuation of what we started, and a shiver of anticipation runs through me.

“Is it okay for me to go down?” Rosa asks, and I turn to see her waiting impatiently by the open door.

“Sure,” Julian says. “Go ahead, Rosa. We’ll be right there.”

She disappears through the exit, and Julian steps closer to me, making my breath catch in my throat. “Are you ready?” he asks softly, and I nod, mesmerized by the warm look in his eyes.

“In that case, let’s go,” he murmurs, taking my hand. His big, masculine palm engulfs my fingers completely. “Your parents await.”

The car that takes us from the airport to my parents’ house is a long, modern-looking limo with unusually thick glass.

“Bulletproof?” I ask when we get in, and Julian nods, confirming my guess. He’s sitting in the back with me and Rosa, while Lucas is driving, as usual.

I wonder if the blond man resents this trip for taking him away from his Russian toy. The last I heard, the interpreter was still alive—and still held prisoner in Lucas’s quarters. Julian told me that Lucas assigned two guards to watch over her in his absence and make sure she’s all right. Apparently, he doesn’t want anyone else to have the privilege of torturing the girl.

That whole situation makes me sick, so I try not to think about it. The only reason I even know as much as I know is because Rosa refuses to leave it alone, constantly begging me to ask Julian for updates. Her strange obsession with Julian’s right-hand man worries me, even though I’m coming to the conclusion that Rosa was right about Lucas having zero interest in her. Still, as much as I don’t want her to get involved with him, I also don’t want her to be heartbroken—and I’m afraid things are trending in that direction.

“Are you sure your parents don’t mind us coming so late?” Rosa asks, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s almost nine in the evening.”

“No, they’re really anxious to see me.” I glance down at my phone, which pings with yet another text from Mom. Picking it up, I skim the message and tell Rosa, “My mom already has the table set.”

“And they don’t mind me tagging along?” She chews on her lower lip. “I mean, you’re their daughter, so of course they want to see you, but I’m just the maid—”

“You’re my friend.” Impulsively, I reach across the limo aisle and squeeze Rosa’s hand. “Please stop worrying about it. You’re not imposing.”

Rosa smiles, looking relieved, and I glance at Julian to see his reaction. His face is impassive, but I catch a glimmer of amusement in his gaze. My husband is clearly not worried about imposing on my parents so late in the evening. And that makes perfect sense. Why would something like that faze him when he unapologetically abducted their daughter?

This should be an interesting dinner indeed.

“Nora, honey!” As soon as my parents’ door swings open, I’m enveloped in a soft, perfumed embrace. Laughing, I hug my mom and then my dad, who’s standing right behind her. He holds me tightly for a few moments, and I feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

When he pulls back to look at me, there is a sheen of moisture in his eyes. “We are so glad to see you,” he says in a low, deep voice, and I smile up at him through my own veil of tears.

“Me too, Dad. Me too. I really missed you and Mom.”

As soon as I say that, I remember that I’m not alone. Turning, I see that my mom is looking at Rosa and Julian, her smile now stiff and unnatural.

I take a deep breath to prepare myself. “Mom, Dad, you already know Julian. And this is Rosa Martinez. She’s my best friend on the estate.” I invited Lucas to join us for dinner as well, but he refused, explaining that he’s part of the security detail tonight and needs to remain outside.

My mom nods cautiously at Julian. Then her smile warms a fraction as she looks at my friend. “It’s nice to meet you, Rosa. Nora told us all about you. Please, come in.”

She steps back to welcome them, and Rosa walks in, smiling uncertainly. She’s followed by Julian, who strolls in looking as cool and confident as ever.

“Gabriela. It’s so good to see you.” Giving my mom a dazzling smile, my former captor leans down to brush his lips against her cheek in a European gesture. When he straightens, she looks flushed, like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Leaving her to recover, Julian turns his attention to my dad. “It’s a pleasure meeting you in person, Tony,” he says, extending his hand.