“The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t belong here.”
“Then that settles it.” He nodded decisively. “You’re coming with me.”
Violet’s memory might have deserted her, but she was fairly sure most people did not travel in their own luxury jet. As they mounted the steps of the sleek airplane, a uniformed man bowed low in greeting. That, too, seemed unlikely to be an everyday occurrence.
“Welcome aboard, Mr. Zilar. My name is Daniel, and I’m here to take care of your comfort during the flight.”
“Is there any message for me from Mr. Taverner?” Nate kept his hand in the small of Violet’s back, and she was grateful for that light contact. Everything felt strange and overwhelming, but his touch was comforting. Was there a possibility of it already becoming too comforting, of her starting to depend on him too much? She didn’t have time to explore the thought, but like a new and exotic taste, it lingered.
“Mr. Taverner told me to tell you everything is taken care of.” Daniel turned to Violet. “Your luggage has already been brought aboard, Miss Wolfe.”
Miss Wolfe? She turned questioning eyes to Nate, and he grinned. Leaning closer, he pressed his lips up against her ear so he could whisper. “It was the only name I could come up with on the spur of the moment.”
“My luggage?” she whispered back, as they followed Daniel inside the polished interior of the plane.
“Ged is very thorough.” He seemed to feel it was an answer. Instead it raised more questions. Who was this mysterious Mr. Taverner who seemed to already have such a strong influence over her life?
The main cabin was an elegant salon with cream furnishings and walnut trim. Every feature had been designed with comfort in mind, including the finishing touches of fresh fruit, champagne and chocolates. Violet gazed around with wide eyes. Daniel held open a door, through which she could see a huge bed.
“I took the liberty of placing your suitcases in here.” Daniel indicated a neat arrangement of stacked luggage just inside the bedroom door.
There were three large suitcases and two smaller ones. Although Violet might not know much about these things, she sensed that they, like her surroundings, were expensive and customized. She tried to catch Nate’s eye and give him a we have to talk about this look, but he was turning away from her, addressing his next words to Daniel.
“There was a problem with Miss Wolfe’s passport. Mr. Taverner was going to sort it out.”
“It’s all taken care of. The new document was delivered just before you arrived. The immigration official will come aboard before we depart to do the necessary checks.”
Violet slid her hand into Nate’s. Document? Official? Checks? None of those things sounded like things in which she wanted to participate. That sense of not belonging swept over her again. The fear of being discovered in some wrongdoing was overwhelming. Nate returned the pressure of her fingers reassuringly.
“In that case, can you leave us alone before we set off?”
Daniel bowed again and closed the bedroom door behind him as he left. When he had gone, Nate leaned against the door, watching Violet’s face. “You are not okay with this.”
She released a long exhale. “That’s because I have no idea what this is.” She gestured around the small but luxurious bedroom as she spoke. “Do you always travel this way?”
He laughed. “This is my manager’s over-the-top way of responding to my plea for help. I told him I wasn’t leaving America without you, but that you had no identification. I don’t know how he has managed to get you a passport in such a short time, and I’m not going to ask. I suspect his methods weren’t legal and probably cost a lot of money. All I know is I sent him your picture and he said he’d do the rest. I guess he decided there would be fewer questions asked if we flew privately.”
“And the luggage?” Violet pointed to the suitcases.
“I asked him to get someone to pick you up a few things. He tends to do things on a grand scale.” He smiled reassuringly. “Once we are over the passport hurdle, we can relax. I’m meeting my bandmates in London, so we have the plane to ourselves.”
Daniel tapped on the door at that moment, his face apologetic. “The immigration official is here. He said it will only take a few minutes if he could just see you both with your passports.”
Violet edged closer to Nate, and he took her hand again, smiling down at her. “Come on. Once this is done, we can get going.”
She nodded miserably. She had no idea what her life was usually like, but she didn’t recognize this crawling feeling of fear. She sincerely hoped this constant nervousness was werewolf attack–induced and not a feature of her personality. Or maybe it’s simpler. Maybe I’m just tired. She hadn’t slept, and that big, crisp bed looked very inviting.
The immigration official was more interested in Beast, Nate’s band, than in Violet. He had their latest album and was annoyed that he hadn’t known he would be meeting Nate that day.
“I’d have brought it along and asked you to sign the cover.”
“Write down your contact details.” Nate signaled to Daniel, who produced a piece of paper and a pen. “I’ll get a copy to you that’s been signed by all the band members.”
For a moment Violet thought the immigration official might be about to hug Nate. She knew it would not be a popular move with the intensely private man she had known for only a few hours. Instead, he recalled his position and opted for gripping Nate’s hand gratefully. Turning to the passports, he checked them quickly.
“Everything is in order here. You’re cleared to leave.” He handed the documents back to them and left, turning back with a cheery wave when he reached the door.
“That’s it?” Violet looked down at the little booklet in her hand. It had conferred a status on her she didn’t have before. Wolfe. She wondered what her real passport said. She couldn’t recall ever seeing one of these things until now. Memory was a strange thing. Somewhere, locked away in the recesses of her mind, were the clues to her identity. She just had no idea how to get to them.
“That’s it,” Nate confirmed. “It’s a long journey. Why don’t you make the most of it by getting some sleep?”
“Do you always know the right thing to say and do?”
Her words seemed to shake him, and he gazed down at her for a moment before replying. “Not always.”
* * *
Do you always know the right thing to say and do? Violet’s question had played on his mind throughout most of the transatlantic flight. He watched her as she slept. Lying next to her, but not touching her. Because that was what she had asked him to do.
“Will you stay with me?” She only had to raise those incredible violet-blue eyes shyly to his and he was lost.
“Anytime you need me.” Would he always do what Violet asked him to? Probably.
His words, together with his presence, had calmed her nerves, and Violet had fallen asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillows. Not Nate. Despite his weariness, he had remained awake, wondering about that question. Debating his motives. Could bringing her with him be considered “the right thing”?
As soon as he had taken a look at Violet in that cheap motel room, something inside him had lurched out of place. It hadn’t gone back again. He studied her now. The dark fan of her lashes against her pale cheek. The midnight velvet of her hair curling soft on the