I move down the stairs ahead of Valentine, then offer her a hand down from the plane.
I know she doesn’t love flying, but she’s been acting extra stressed out all day. And when she wobbles a little on the last step, I grip her hand tighter.
“You alright?” True concern tinges my voice.
Val nods her head.
“Valentine.”
She sighs. “I’m a little nervous.”
I place a hand on her back, guiding her toward the big SUV that Rob is already loading our bags into. “No one knows we’re here. And even if they did, they won’t be able to track us to the cabin,” I tell her, assuming she’s talking about the guys who are trying to kill me.
“Oh, um, it’s not that.” She blinks up at me. “But now that you’ve mentioned it…”
I slide my hand down and pat her ass. Then I palm her ass because it’s too delicious not to, especially in these stretchy jeans that look like they’re painted on her.
We reach the Suburban, and I guide her to climb into the back seat, then follow her in.
Once Rob starts driving, I turn to Val. “What are you nervous about?”
She blows out a breath. “Just seeing everyone, I guess.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
Val lifts a shoulder before she finally turns her head to look at me. “I just don’t want it to be awkward. Ya know?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know.”
She tugs at the bottom of her off-white sweater, making me wish I’d insisted she put her jacket back on before we got out of the plane. It’s not as cold here as it is back home, but I don’t want her to be uncomfortable.
“You know about our…” She lifts one hand to make a circular gesture. “Parental history. And I know that was all in the past, but I’ve worked really hard to make them like me.”
I clench my jaw. “Them?”
“King and Aspen,” she clarifies calmly, like she isn’t igniting my anger all over again. “I just don’t want them to be… I dunno. Mad at me. Or disappointed.”
“What the fuck would they have to be mad or disappointed about? They can be mad at me, but that’s for me to handle. You’ve done nothing wrong, Angel.” I work to keep my tone even.
Val looks away from me. “I didn’t fight back.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and slide across the seat until I’m next to her.
When she doesn’t look at me, I grab her chin and lift her face to mine. With her eyes on mine, I tell her the truth. “There was no fighting me, Valentine. You’re mine. There is nothing you could have done to make that not true.” Her jaw muscles move as she swallows. “Tell me.”
“I’m yours.”
I pull in a deep inhale through my nose, filling my lungs.
I was looking for I understand, but I’m yours is so much better.
“Say that again,” I demand.
She stares me in the eyes and tells me, “I’m yours.”
My lips are on hers.
I tighten my grip on her chin and slide the fingers of my other hand through her hair to hold the back of her head, guiding her to tilt to the side so I can deepen the kiss.
Val doesn’t just let me, she participates. She grabs at me, pulls me to her.
I slide closer, tempted to undo her seat belt and pull her into my lap. But I won’t compromise her safety.
Then she scrapes her nails up the back of my head, and a shiver skitters down my arms.
Breaking our kiss, I drop my face to her shoulder. “Do that again.”
Instead of scraping her nails over my scalp, she lightly rubs her palm over my short hair.
I slip my arms around her in a hug, and her body shudders.
“I like your hair,” she whispers.
I squeeze her. “I like your hair, too.”
“Thanks.” Her palm makes another pass over my head. “I used to not like it, but I do now.”
I slide my hand up her back to play with the ends of her thick, shiny hair. “Why wouldn’t you like it?” I turn my head a little so my lips are nearly against her neck.
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
I start to pull back, but she scrapes her nails over my head again. “I promise,” I lie. “Now tell me.”
She’s back to using her palm on my head. “After my dad’s funeral, when I saw King and Aspen for the first time, I started to hate it.” I have to force my body not to react, not to tense. “It wasn’t their fault. I just had always loved that I had my dad’s hair, but that day…” She shrugs, lifting my head with the movement. “I started sneaking my mom’s leftover hair dye. I’d always get in trouble for it since it’s not like she didn’t notice my hair was a darker color. But when I was old enough to get a job, I’d buy the boxes myself and dye it at home.”
“Because you didn’t want to look like them?”
I can feel her nod. “Pretty much. Every time I saw my natural hair color, I was just reminded that my dad had other kids he’d never told me about.”
“When did you stop dying it?” I ask, keeping my anger bottled inside.
“A couple years ago. I had a hairdresser convince me to go back to my natural color. He said it was too pretty to cover up.”
I press my lips to her exposed neck. “I feel that way about every inch of you.”
“Dominic,” she chastises quietly, probably embarrassed about Rob hearing.
But I’m not embarrassed about how much she turns me on.
I kiss her neck again, then pull away. “How much longer?” I ask Rob.
“Another forty, Boss.”
“Good,” I reply as I slide down onto my side until my head is in Val’s soft lap and my feet are wedged against the door. “Just enough time for a nap.” I reach up and grab Val’s hand. “Keep scratching my head, Shorty.”
My eyes lower. Enough time for a nap. And to let my rage simmer.
