Consequences of Deception (6 page)

The Brandt jet is on the runway when we get to the plane, and Killian leaves me to get on board while he parks his car in a nearby hangar. I am surprised when I enter the cabin of the plane and find three men already on board. I recognize one of them as being the man that Killian had been speaking to back at my house, but the other two are in no way familiar.

The one I recognize immediately jumps up when he sees me standing uncertainly inside the door. I take his hand when he holds it out for me to shake.

“Miss Evans, I’m Chord Nicholson, Killian’s head of security. These men are my team; Trey and Adam.” Each of them nods at me as Chord gestures in their direction, and I try to commit their names to memory. After the introductions, Chord gestures towards the back of the plane and tells me that two of my bags are in the bedroom so that I can get changed. God bless him for not making a face while looking at my pink wildebeest nightmare as he says it.

When I get back to the plane bedroom, I don’t recognize the pieces of luggage sitting on the bed. I hesitate to open anything in case it is Killian’s, but decide that since he’s trampled all over my privacy today, it doesn’t really matter if I open something without asking him or not. Unzipping one of the pieces of luggage, I breathe a sigh of relief when I find my own clothes inside. It dawns on me that I don’t recognize the luggage because Celine had taken my mother’s Vuitton luggage from me when I moved in. Clearly, Killian’s crew acquired luggage for my stuff from somewhere.

Normally, I am beset with anxiety every time I see my wardrobe because it doesn’t contain one thing that I chose myself. Tonight, I’m thrilled to see the junior nun-style clothing that was packed for me. I haven’t been allowed to shop in years and everything that I had prior to moving in with Stephen and Celine was deemed “inappropriate”. What I wound up with is a closetful of utilitarian baggy clothing that is in no way flattering, but that works for me in the current situation. I’m definitely not trying to draw Killian’s attention to me right now—that’s for damn sure.

After changing into a pair of knee-length, baggy khaki shorts, and a white peasant blouse with three-quarter length sleeves, I bundle up the pink atrocity I’d been wearing and stuff it into the trashcan. A knock on the door brings an end to my alone time, and I open it to find Killian standing in the doorway, larger than life. My mouth goes as dry as the desert as I see that his tie and jacket are both gone, his top three buttons are open, and his sleeves are rolled up revealing his tanned and toned arms. Killian Brandt is a jerk, but—my God—is he beautiful to look at.

“You need to take a seat and get belted in. We’re set for takeoff in five minutes.”

I do as he says without saying a word, mostly because I’m so completely overwhelmed by the change in my circumstances. A few hours ago I was counting down the days—the hours, even—until I wasn’t trapped anymore, only to find out that I’m trapped in a totally new way now. I have anxiety issues that stem from being uncertain about things, and this situation is the biggest clusterfuck of uncertainty that I’ve ever been in.

I take the seat Killian gestures to, wondering what the point of forcing me to accompany him is when he isn’t even going to sit near me. Instead I am in a recliner just outside of the bedroom and Killian is sitting towards the cockpit with Chord, Trey and Adam at a table. A few minutes later we are taking off, and I watch out the window until San Jose disappears from view. You’d think that as anxious as I am, I wouldn’t be tired, but I’m exhausted. I try for a few minutes to stay awake and alert, mostly in the hope of finding out where the hell we’re going, but before long I realize I am fighting a losing battle. Reclining in the seat, I put my head back and close my eyes.

I awaken sometime later when I sense someone near me. Opening my eyes, I find Killian sitting in the seat next to mine, staring at me in silence. Quickly sitting upright, I push my hair back from my face before asking, “How long was I out?”

“A few hours. We’re going to be landing soon so you need to be awake.”

He seems tired, and I think I smell liquor on his breath. Nothing heavy, not like he is drunk, but he isn’t as uptight as usual. It’s so surreal to be sitting next to him after all of these years. For the first two years after he turned his back on me, I’d have given anything to have Killian back in my life, but as the years passed and his attitude toward me didn’t change at all, I’ve been trying, obviously unsuccessfully, to box up my silly teenage dreams about him. The Killian I used to know was fun, outgoing, personable, and solid. What he’s become isn’t even relatable to what he started out as.

I wait to see if he is going to volunteer any information without my having to drag it out of him but of course he doesn’t, so I am basically forced to ask him the question that he has to know I have. “Where are we going?”

“Florida. We’re going to spend some time in Pensacola. You’ll like it.”

I scoff at this, and not quietly. How the hell am I going to enjoy Florida while being forced to perform like a whore in Killian’s bed every night? Oh, God…. or worse! What if he calls me into his bedroom to service him every night and then kicks me out right afterward? Just how much of a whore is Killian Brandt going to make me? From virgin to sex slave—all in one day. That’s going to be my legacy. How the hell am I supposed to live with that?

“Stop thinking whatever it is that you’re thinking. All you’re doing is upsetting yourself and it’s not necessary.”

Good Lord he’s an arrogant asshole. It isn’t necessary to be upset about the fact that he purchased me like I’m a bag of flour? What did he think I was going to do, have a flipping party? How is it possible for one man to be so smart yet so completely out of touch with reality all at the same time?

“Not necessary? My feelings may not be
necessary
to
you
Killian, but they’re what make me human. I’m not going to pretend that I’m not upset about what’s happening here. I’m a… a… freaking paid escort!”

He cocks his head to the side and raises an eyebrow at me, almost as if he is angry about my reaction. “You’ve always wanted me and you and I both know it. It’s only the fact that I’ve paid for you that’s pissing you off. If the money weren’t involved and I had just indicated that I would be willing to bed you, you would have come to me without reservation.”

I go from upset to furious in under one second. “You stupid, insensitive, cocky son-of-a-bitch! How dare you? I can’t stand you and
I don’t want you
!”

His eyes flash and I feel the fire in them down to the tips of my toes. Leaning in close, he speaks right into my ear. “I’ll remind you of how much you don’t want me when my dick’s hitting the back of your throat and you’re begging me with your eyes to come in your mouth. You’ll swallow every fucking drop with a smile, and then you’ll beg for more.”

The husky growl of his voice makes my sex clench in response. Of its own accord, my hand goes to my throat and my jaw drops open as I jerk my head away from him. “You’re a jerk!”

His expression gives absolutely nothing away as he abruptly stands up and leaves me with one more instruction before walking away. “Put your seatbelt on. We land in a few minutes.”

I’ve poked the bear and pissed him off. He is probably going to be angry and rough with me later, and all because I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut. I force myself not to cry as I belt myself in and wait to land. Florida might as well be the outer ring of hell right now as far as I’m concerned, and I’m not looking forward to it.

He says nothing else to me for a long time after that. After we get off the plane, we get into one of two Escalades that are in the airport hangar waiting for us. Killian’s security team take the second one, and he and I drive alone and in silence for a little less than an hour before we arrive at our destination. I’d expected that we’d be in a hotel or a house, but instead Killian pulls into something called the Portofino Island Resort, a community that is made up of five enormous towers filled with condominiums. It is the middle of the night in Pensacola, just an hour or so before dawn, but I can see that it is a really nice place.

I am a shaky nervous wreck as Killian parks the car and his team comes to take care of the luggage. I want to stall, but Killian isn’t having it and he hurries me along. We say nothing as we get into an elevator that quickly climbs to the tenth floor. I am nauseous now, my mind working overtime on how to react if Killian indicates that we are going to be sharing a bedroom. It’s not like I have much of a choice, but still.

I breathe a huge sigh of relief after we enter the condo and Killian shows me to a bedroom before telling me that my luggage will be up in a minute. With very little fanfare, he bids me goodnight and walks out, and I am thrilled about it. At the very least, I’ll have my own space and that’s something I’m grateful for. A few minutes later, Chord comes into the room and leaves the two suitcases I’d seen on the plane along with two smaller cases that I hadn’t seen yet. After telling me that we’ll be staying in Florida for at least a week, he says goodnight.

I’ve slept for hours on the plane but I am still so exhausted and emotionally wrung out that after going to the bathroom and taking off my shorts, I climb into the enormously fluffy king-sized bed and fall asleep within seconds.

I am confused as I’m waking up since the room is pitch black and I don’t know where I am. The first clue that I’m not in my bed at Stephen and Celine’s house is the fact that I have so much room to move around. The furniture in my room there had come straight from the room I grew up in, which means that the bed was twin sized. This is definitely a king sized bed.

The night before comes back to me in a flash, and I sit up quickly and try to get my bearings. Looking to my left I see a bedside clock that indicates that it is well after one in the afternoon. Once I understand that the room is so dark because of the floor to ceiling blackout drapes, I get out of bed to pull them open in order to let the sunshine in. I blink and rub at my eyes as I try to adjust to the blazing sun that has been hidden behind the curtain.

As soon as my eyes adjust and I am able to take in the view, I gasp in wonder. It’s absolutely gorgeous out, and there is a huge balcony right outside of the two enormous glass doors. The balcony is amazing because it offers a completely unobstructed view of the beach, both due to the fact that it faces the beach straight on and because the balcony is enclosed in glass to just above waist height.

It is so beautiful that I decide that I will leave my curtains open at night, whenever possible, so that I can wake up and watch the ocean from my bed. I can’t stop myself from sliding the door open and stepping out onto the balcony to breathe in the fresh sea air and look at the amazingly clear water of the Pensacola beach. It is breathtaking; a visual perfection that takes my breath away and makes me forget everything as I stare at the ocean. I jump like a scalded cat when the sliding door farther down the balcony opens and Killian comes stomping out.

The look he gives me is one of pure anger, and I freeze. “Goddammit, Sloane,” he growls, “Are you seriously standing here in your fucking underwear for everyone to see?”

Looking down at myself I see that I am only wearing my white shirt and a pair of white cotton underwear with little flowers on them. I let out a mortified squeak as I turn on my heel and run back into my bedroom, slamming the sliding door closed behind me with a resounding thud. For good measure, I also yank the curtains closed. We’re high enough up that I know no one saw a thing—not that it really matters since I’m wearing more than most of the people on the beach are—but I’m not happy that I just inadvertently flashed my panties at Killian.

After turning on the lights I heft the luggage up onto the bed and begin unpacking. Whoever packed for me has done a great job of choosing all of the weather appropriate clothing I had, but of course, it is all still butt ugly clothing. I unpack my two biggest pieces of luggage pretty quickly before opening the third bag and finding it packed with a bunch of things that are enrobed in bubble wrap. I clap a little when I begin unwrapping things and see that it is all of the photos and knickknacks that had been on my dresser and bedside table. Happy to have the familiar photos of my parents with me, I set them out on the dresser.