Chapter 17
Blair
It had been another long day. Another twenty-plus hour flight, though at least the one from Athens to Kingston was direct. Unlike our first hellacious and never-ending trip, from Melbourne to Austria, Sam decided not to take advantage of his prescription sleeping pills. I was torn between wanting his company for every second of these last couple of days and wishing he would sleep so that I could feel guilty in peace.
There had been a slew of text messages on my backup phone after Xander had it activated. A bunch from Audra, just checking in. Two from different professors letting me know what final projects had been assigned. Two cryptic messages, one from Kennedy Gilbert and one from Cole Stuart, with strangely similar wording, piqued my interest, but one from my father drove any thought of getting involved in Whitman drama from my head.
There are better ways to get the rest of Bradford’s money. You have two days to get it done, or I’m going a different direction. I’ll call for the update 12/2.
He’d only sent one, because he wouldn’t deign to tell me anything twice. One was enough to remind me why Sam and I had come together, and that pretending otherwise would hurt us both. Being with him, feeling the physical manifestation of our connection, had been the tipping point. I couldn’t treat him like everyone else when he wasn’t like anyone else. Regardless of my change of heart, my determination to help Sam instead of steal from him, it wouldn’t alter the outcome. Sam would find out the truth, and this—pretend or real—would be over.
December 2nd was tomorrow. We’d land in Jamaica in the next twenty minutes, according to the pilot. We needed to find a boat and haul ass to the Caymans, come up with a plan, and confront my dad before my deadline expired. I thought seeing the two of us in the flesh, maybe looking at my face and glimpsing even just a fraction of how much I liked Sam, would convince him to drop the act. If not, I was prepared to threaten to go to the authorities with all of the information I had accumulated over the years.
I thought. It would implicate me, too, but there were things such as immunity, right?
Maybe I watched too much television, but all my years of conning wouldn’t go to waste. I could play the poor, abused little girl forced to participate in her daddy’s games or get tossed into the street. It might have even been true, once. Before I started to like the challenge.
I glanced at Sam, taking advantage of his fascination with the island landing to watch him without being caught. He had a gorgeous, strong profile, and his brown hair curled a bit at the ends now that it was too long. If he looked at me, his eyes would poke holes in all of the misdirection and sarcasm that served me well as protection with other people. Even so, I loved his eyes.
Every guy I’d ever dated had been good-looking. Especially Flynn. But, that’s all they had been—shiny toys I’d picked up, then tossed aside when they grew boring. While Sam was handsome by anyone’s standards, it surprised me to realize his looks were the last thing I would use to describe him, and far from my favorite thing about him. Mostly it was his patience. His surprising determination and depth. His easygoing personality and wry sense of humor.
Not that I didn’t enjoy his body. I thought that I could spend years learning every groove, and never tire of how it tensed and rippled under my fingers. The weight of him on top of me, watching his eyes close in pleasure, feeling his hands squeezing my hips—the experience had been almost surreal. Otherworldly. As though fitting together with another person so well, so easily, couldn’t quite be real.
Spending another night having sex in that boat would have pushed me over the line—one where there was no way he wouldn’t take my heart with him when he went. I had no illusions that these twenty-four hours would end without Sam learning the real reason I’d come to get him, the real reason I’d dragged him halfway around the world. My father would rat me out, or I would have to do it myself in order to get Sam’s money back.
But that was the most important goal. Get Sam’s money back. If I could accomplish that, I would go back to doing my dad’s bidding for the next two years. Sam had poured his heart and soul into his career for way longer than that. He deserved the money more than I did my freedom.
For the first time in my entire life, the right thing to do was more important than what my father wanted, than what would keep me safe. It was more important than the knowledge that Sam would hate me. Keeping him with a lie would be so much worse than fixing this and letting him go.
Sam’s hand found mine, startling me out of my head. I realized he’d caught me looking, and when he gave me a sly smile a lump formed in my throat. My eyes burned, but I didn’t look away.