I didn’t want to tell him yet that we were only pit-stopping in Istanbul. From there, we would do another quick fuel up and fly straight to Baghdad.
I stepped out of the cockpit and into the main body of the jet. It seated only twelve, but the seats were so big even Ivan would fit with room to spare. Rachel was where I’d left her, passed out in the mid-section of the plane.
The supposed limo driver was bent over her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? Did I not just tell you to get the fuck off this plane?” I strode toward Antonio, fully expecting him to cower.
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Alfred instructed me to stay with you three and make sure you were well cared for on your flight.”
We were almost nose-to-nose. “We don’t need your help.”
The jet lurched forward and Antonio stumbled, grabbing the back of Rachel’s seat for balance. “I am here to do a job. You are not the one who calls the shots.”
Ivan put a hand on my waist and pushed me sideways into the seat next to Rachel. “Sit, we’re about to take off.”
I glared up at him, even though I knew he was right. Mierde. When the werewolf was right, I was obviously in trouble.
Rachel’s breathing was deep and even, and I leaned close enough to smell the air escaping her. My blood had faded in her. There was only the barest hint of it in her system now, a whisper that would be gone by the time she awoke.
The jet engines roared, rumbling through the cabin, and I breathed through the anxiety that rolled across my chest. There was a reason Calvin and I had driven everywhere for the last fifty years.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid to fly,” Ivan whispered across the aisle to me.
I kept my eyes closed. “It goes against God and nature. A large metal box soaring through the air defying gravity is not something I consider safe.”
“You’d survive a crash.” His words made my teeth clench and he sucked in a breath. “Shit, have you survived a plane crash?”
The tremor started in my hands and I clenched the armrests. “Twice.”
“Damn, you are a badass. I’d still like to spank you, though.”
I sucked in another sharp breath and whipped my head around to glare at him. “You did not say that.”
His yellow-green eyes sparkled. “I did. And it’s the truth. You’ve got a great ass, all but made for spanking. And I did peek when you changed in my cab. The rest of you isn’t half bad either.”
“Wolf, do you have a death wish?”
“Nope.” He grinned and I stared at his mouth, my mind racing with all sorts of thoughts. Naked bodies and biting mouths, hands tracing muscles, and the softness of lips meeting in ecstasy. I shook my head.
Ivan didn’t look away from me, but let out a wide yawn. “I’m going to have good dreams, I think. Those panties fit you perfectly, just this side of too small.”
He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, exposing his throat, which did all sorts of bad things to my libido. I pressed my body back into my seat, but didn’t dare close my eyes. The images were too strong.
And then I realized what he’d done.
“You sneaky bastard.”
“You’re welcome,” he murmured sleepily.
His distraction had kept the anxiety at bay long enough to get us in the air without me flipping out. My lips twitched and I let out a long breath. The cabin was small enough I could hear everyone’s heartbeat. Rachel and Ivan slept deeply, their bodies healing from the wounds and trauma they’d experienced.
The captain and his co-pilot were wide awake, but calm, thank God. Antonio, though...the steady beat of his heart told me that not only was he awake, but he was hyper focused. I unbuckled my lap belt and stood. Antonio was sitting at the back of the plane, his eyes closed and his head leaned back.
I walked down the aisle, my skin prickling. Limo driver, my spankable ass. I crouched beside him, breathing in the different scents he had swirling around him. Peeling back the layers, I picked up on the faintest whisper of oak. The hair along the back of my neck rose and my skin prickled. Every Cazador took an oath in a grove of oaks, and the scent stayed with them for years, the oath seeming to burn it deep into their very beings.
“¿Por qué estás fingiendo dormir?” Why are you pretending to sleep? The question was simple, and I knew he’d heard me. But he rolled his back to me even as his heart picked up pace.
I stood and backed away. My seat cushioned me as I slid into it, but I took no comfort in the plush seat. There were times even I needed more than superficial comfort.
I reached over and put my fingertips on Rachel’s wrist, feeling her pulse bounce under my skin. I tipped my head back and let her heart rate slow my own.