After a few moments of hesitation, she pulled out the necklace, tucked it in its own velvet box, and thrust it into her purse. Better safe than sorry, because oh my lord, that nausea would make her one sorry Wyr, and if there was any week she couldn’t afford to be sick, it was this one.
Satisfied with her decision, she went downstairs where Dragos was waiting.
They had given Liam options—he could either go to D.C. with them, or he could remain home to stay in school. Excited at joining the football team, he had elected to remain at home, although Dragos had kept him out of school that morning so they could say good-bye to him.
“No unexpected growth spurts,” she told him, as she finger-combed his dark blond hair and straightened his collar. “And no sleepovers, so don’t even bother asking. I want to Skype with you every day, so you can tell me how your day went.”
“Yeah, okay.” Grinning, he ducked away from her ministrations. “Come on, Mom, quit it. I’m all straightened up.”
“Fine, I’m stopping. I love you.” She grabbed his shoulders and hauled him close for a hug. Despite his complaints, his arms closed around her readily.
“Love you too,” he muttered against her shoulder.
Public or open displays of affection had begun to embarrass him, which she thought was so darn adorable, because he still wanted to be hugged, but he had started to act sneaky about seeking out the hugs. She squeezed him tighter before she let him go.
“We’re going to talk about a surprise for you when we get back,” Dragos told him.
The puppy. She grinned. With everything that had happened, she had forgotten about that.
Liam perked up. “Oh yeah? What is it?”
“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it?” Smiling, Dragos hooked a long arm around the boy and hauled him in for another hug. “Be good. And be careful out on the field.”
At that, Liam sobered somewhat. He promised, “I will.”
Over the summer, Dragos had commissioned an airstrip to be built just a mile away from their estate, so after their good-byes were said, the trip to the jet was short.
The security detail and house staff who would be covering the D.C. trip had already left around ten p.m. the night before, Dragos told her. That included Eva, while Hugh would remain at home to watch over Liam’s welfare.
She did a happy little wiggle in her seat. That also meant they would have the cabin of the jet to themselves. More sexy times were a-comin’.
In short order, they boarded the jet. The preflight checks had already been completed, so as soon as Andrew, one of the co-pilots, had tucked the luggage into compartments, closed the door and stepped into the cockpit, the engines began a high, powerful whine.
Pia had tucked her purse into a closet and thrown herself on one of the couches. As the plane started to roll down the runway, Dragos turned to her.
The somewhat terse expression he had worn around other people vaporized. He looked feral again, and clenched.
Her body knew that look. All he had to do was look at her like that, and reach for her with those two big hands, and desire flooded her in a liquid gush of heat.
Either the airplane’s acceleration, or Dragos’s insistence, pushed her back against the leather cushions. She melted back willingly, while he tore her clothes off. Material ripped—she didn’t know what got damaged—she might have to pull out one of her suitcases to get something else she could wear later. . . .
Then all coherent thought vanished. After he finished tearing off her clothes, he stripped rapidly. The slanting light from the windows striped his powerful body. Heavy muscles rippled under dark bronze skin as he came between her legs. The hunger that gripped her was insatiable. She ran her hands over sleek dark hair that covered the wide expanse of his chest.
When he fingered her and found her ready, he entered her without ceremony. Gasping, she threw her head back at the intimate invasion. Thunderous noise vibrated all around her, accompanied by Dragos’s low, animalistic growl reverberating against her torso.