Treasured by Thursday
Page 35
She knew his declaration was rare. She squeezed his hand.
“Maybe not the cliff dive . . . but other than that.”
Laughter bubbled, she couldn’t help it. “You said anything.”
“I might have you taste all my food before I eat it.”
“Happy to. Val’s chef is beyond this world.”
“I look forward to it. I couldn’t tell you the last time I took a vacation.”
“Too busy moving your money around the Monopoly board?”
“More like the game of Risk.”
Hunter’s personal flight attendant walked toward them. “We’re clear to land, Mr. Blackwell.”
The plane bounced, then glided along the pavement. Hunter’s distraction took away the anxiety that rested in her bones since they’d taken off.
She stood and eased the lines in her pants with the palms of her hands.
Hunter waited, patiently. She fisted her clutch in her hands, knew the staff would deliver their luggage at some point.
The flight attendant opened the hatch, bringing in a wave of moist Caribbean heat.
The pilot walked through the narrow door from the cockpit. “I hope your flight was enjoyable,” he told them.
“Perfect,” Gabi told him.
Hunter lifted his hand. “Wait on my earlier request.”
The pilot offered a nod and stood back as they exited the plane.
Most days, the Florida Keys held cloudy skies, hot with the occasional sprinkle, but today was pleasantly clear, giving the air a little less humidity than Gabi expected.
Hunter hesitated at the door, made a show of looking out. “Doesn’t look like anyone is carrying a rifle.”
Gabi clasped his hand and dragged him out of his world and into hers.
Val stood between her mother and Meg. His back was rod straight, his suit perfectly pressed. Meg offered an enthusiastic wave, her sundress blowing behind her, her short blonde locks hardly contained by the clip in her hair.
Her mother watched, first with watchful eyes on Hunter that seemed to travel slowly between them and then back. Those narrow eyes filled and a smile emerged.
With open arms, Gabi let loose Hunter’s hand and ran into the embrace of her mother. “I’ve missed you,” Gabi said in Italian.
“You’re too thin,” her mother said with little malice.
Val stood to the side, his eyes never leaving Hunter, while Meg moved in for the next hug.
“Hey, you!”
“Look at this tan. You look amazing.”
“Good food, great se—”
Gabi’s mother clicked her tongue before Meg could say the word sex, and they both started to laugh. “Grandbabies, Simona . . . grandbabies.”
“Stop seeing that doctor and taking those little pink pills . . . then you can talk about your sex life.”
Gabi wondered if Hunter was getting any of their conversation.
She turned, found him in a staring contest with her brother.
Gabi broke it off, pushing herself between their lines of sight. “No kiss for your sister?”
Val blinked her way, his face softened. “I’m pleased you’re here, even with that bastard.” His words were in Italian.
“He’s not that bad,” she found herself defending in their first language.
Val grumbled.
“Welcome to Sapore di Amore, Mr. Blackwell.” Meg was quick with the agreeable conversation.
“Hunter, I’d like you to meet my mother, Simona Masini.”
“I feel as if I know you after our conversation on the phone.”
Phone? What? “You two have talked?”
Hunter offered a grin. “We came to an understanding.”
She attempted to gain her mother’s attention and failed.
“I see where Gabi acquired her thoughtful eyes.”
Another man might say . . . good looks . . . beauty . . . no. Hunter went with the eyes. The one feature she and her mother shared without a shadow of a doubt.
Val stepped in, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m sure my sister has informed you of the rules of the island.” He lifted his hand, palm up. “Your phone, Blackwell.”
Gabi wasn’t sure how this was going to go. One alpha male to the other.
“I’m here for Gabi,” Hunter said. “Nothing else.”
Val kept his hand extended.
Gabi turned to her temporary husband. “Trust needs to be earned. Please.”
His gaze shifted.
He fished his phone out of the inside pocket of his suit and handed it over. “If the names Tiffany or Bridget flash, I need to know.”
Meg huffed.
“His secretaries,” Gabi found herself defending him a second time.
That seemed to relieve Meg’s posture.
“Fair enough.” Her brother pocketed the phone and glanced toward the plane.
“I assume you’ve made provisions for your pilot and staff in Miami?”
“I have.” Hunter stood closer. “I’d like you to consider them staying here.”
“That’s out of the question.” Val’s firm response was short of aggressive.
Gabi felt the power play and couldn’t help but question Hunter’s intentions.
Hunter pushed his shoulders back and all amusement left his lips.
The move was powerful, and the reason many men cowered in his presence. “The ghosts of Gabi’s past are here, Mr. Masini. If at any time during our stay she needs to flee, I’m going to help her do so without delay. We can both agree that having my pilot and plane here would expedite that.”
Val clearly wasn’t expecting that answer.
The thought of pushing Hunter off the cliff, which actually didn’t house sharks . . . drifted.
“Maybe not the cliff dive . . . but other than that.”
Laughter bubbled, she couldn’t help it. “You said anything.”
“I might have you taste all my food before I eat it.”
“Happy to. Val’s chef is beyond this world.”
“I look forward to it. I couldn’t tell you the last time I took a vacation.”
“Too busy moving your money around the Monopoly board?”
“More like the game of Risk.”
Hunter’s personal flight attendant walked toward them. “We’re clear to land, Mr. Blackwell.”
The plane bounced, then glided along the pavement. Hunter’s distraction took away the anxiety that rested in her bones since they’d taken off.
She stood and eased the lines in her pants with the palms of her hands.
Hunter waited, patiently. She fisted her clutch in her hands, knew the staff would deliver their luggage at some point.
The flight attendant opened the hatch, bringing in a wave of moist Caribbean heat.
The pilot walked through the narrow door from the cockpit. “I hope your flight was enjoyable,” he told them.
“Perfect,” Gabi told him.
Hunter lifted his hand. “Wait on my earlier request.”
The pilot offered a nod and stood back as they exited the plane.
Most days, the Florida Keys held cloudy skies, hot with the occasional sprinkle, but today was pleasantly clear, giving the air a little less humidity than Gabi expected.
Hunter hesitated at the door, made a show of looking out. “Doesn’t look like anyone is carrying a rifle.”
Gabi clasped his hand and dragged him out of his world and into hers.
Val stood between her mother and Meg. His back was rod straight, his suit perfectly pressed. Meg offered an enthusiastic wave, her sundress blowing behind her, her short blonde locks hardly contained by the clip in her hair.
Her mother watched, first with watchful eyes on Hunter that seemed to travel slowly between them and then back. Those narrow eyes filled and a smile emerged.
With open arms, Gabi let loose Hunter’s hand and ran into the embrace of her mother. “I’ve missed you,” Gabi said in Italian.
“You’re too thin,” her mother said with little malice.
Val stood to the side, his eyes never leaving Hunter, while Meg moved in for the next hug.
“Hey, you!”
“Look at this tan. You look amazing.”
“Good food, great se—”
Gabi’s mother clicked her tongue before Meg could say the word sex, and they both started to laugh. “Grandbabies, Simona . . . grandbabies.”
“Stop seeing that doctor and taking those little pink pills . . . then you can talk about your sex life.”
Gabi wondered if Hunter was getting any of their conversation.
She turned, found him in a staring contest with her brother.
Gabi broke it off, pushing herself between their lines of sight. “No kiss for your sister?”
Val blinked her way, his face softened. “I’m pleased you’re here, even with that bastard.” His words were in Italian.
“He’s not that bad,” she found herself defending in their first language.
Val grumbled.
“Welcome to Sapore di Amore, Mr. Blackwell.” Meg was quick with the agreeable conversation.
“Hunter, I’d like you to meet my mother, Simona Masini.”
“I feel as if I know you after our conversation on the phone.”
Phone? What? “You two have talked?”
Hunter offered a grin. “We came to an understanding.”
She attempted to gain her mother’s attention and failed.
“I see where Gabi acquired her thoughtful eyes.”
Another man might say . . . good looks . . . beauty . . . no. Hunter went with the eyes. The one feature she and her mother shared without a shadow of a doubt.
Val stepped in, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m sure my sister has informed you of the rules of the island.” He lifted his hand, palm up. “Your phone, Blackwell.”
Gabi wasn’t sure how this was going to go. One alpha male to the other.
“I’m here for Gabi,” Hunter said. “Nothing else.”
Val kept his hand extended.
Gabi turned to her temporary husband. “Trust needs to be earned. Please.”
His gaze shifted.
He fished his phone out of the inside pocket of his suit and handed it over. “If the names Tiffany or Bridget flash, I need to know.”
Meg huffed.
“His secretaries,” Gabi found herself defending him a second time.
That seemed to relieve Meg’s posture.
“Fair enough.” Her brother pocketed the phone and glanced toward the plane.
“I assume you’ve made provisions for your pilot and staff in Miami?”
“I have.” Hunter stood closer. “I’d like you to consider them staying here.”
“That’s out of the question.” Val’s firm response was short of aggressive.
Gabi felt the power play and couldn’t help but question Hunter’s intentions.
Hunter pushed his shoulders back and all amusement left his lips.
The move was powerful, and the reason many men cowered in his presence. “The ghosts of Gabi’s past are here, Mr. Masini. If at any time during our stay she needs to flee, I’m going to help her do so without delay. We can both agree that having my pilot and plane here would expedite that.”
Val clearly wasn’t expecting that answer.
The thought of pushing Hunter off the cliff, which actually didn’t house sharks . . . drifted.
