Say It Again (First Wives, #5)(43)

It was Claire who came to the conclusion first. “Pohl has your fingerprints on a gun. He’s going to blackmail you . . . or worse, kill someone and say you did it.”

Sasha turned first to Claire, who looked like she was going to get sick.

AJ appeared pissed.

And Neil. His head was already spinning to fix this before it happened.

“Who would he shoot?” Claire asked.

“Pohl won’t shoot anyone. He’ll give the gun to someone more skilled to assure a kill.”

“But who?”

Sasha forced a smile onto her face. The last thing she wanted to do was scare Claire any more than she already was.

Neil straightened his shoulders and started barking orders. “You,” he pointed at Sasha. “Assume protective custody until we are out of Europe. We can better control this situation with a larger detail.”

“I don’t take orders.”

“You do now.” And to make his point, he turned his attention to Claire. “You are inside, away from the windows, no contact with anyone that isn’t in this house.”

“You think he’s gonna kill me?”

Sasha moved to Claire, glared at Neil.

AJ ran his hands through his hair.

“So far, AJ is the only one not mentioned. Either Pohl knows nothing about you, or you’re a trump card.”

Sasha thought of the night they’d met. “Brigitte was in the bar when we met. You spoke with her.”

“Yeah, but she didn’t know who I was.”

“You told me you knew who she was . . . what makes you think she didn’t know who you were the whole time? She called my attention to you before you sat down to flirt.”

“That’s a long shot.”

“A long shot we’re going to assume is right until proven otherwise,” Neil told them. “Eat breakfast and ready your bags. We’re pulling out as soon as I can arrange pilots.”

Neil left the room without looking back.

“What armed service was he in?” AJ asked, deadpan.

Sasha sighed. “Marines.”





Chapter Seventeen



Private jets, private pilots, and a small airport only the elite flew in and out of made for an easy exit when leaving the United Kingdom.

AJ walked behind Sasha and Claire as they had stepped into the airplane, and suddenly found himself lacking in his financial confidence.

The jet belonged to the same man who owned the manor house they’d just left. Like the home, the plane wasn’t a budget model by any stretch of the imagination. Sasha had told him en route to the airfield that Mr. Harrison and his family traveled back and forth to the UK from California often. In order to avoid having to stop on the East Coast for fuel, they needed a larger plane.

So while AJ stood in the doorway of the aircraft with his mouth half-open at the pure opulence of the jet, Claire flopped into one of the many deluxe recliner chairs and said exactly what AJ was thinking. “This is the shit!”

“You’re not kidding, kid.”

Neil moved AJ aside and stepped into the cockpit to speak with the pilots.

Sasha spoke to the flight attendant while AJ walked through the jet, taking it all in. “I think I need to go back to school and step up my game,” he said to no one in particular.

Claire caught his comment. “What do you do?”

“Nothing that can afford this,” he told her. Not legally, anyway.

“Might I take your bag, sir?” The flight attendant reached for AJ’s duffel.

He handed it over and she gathered Claire’s before disappearing behind a galley wall.

Claire jumped up and moved to a closed door. “What’s in here?” she asked Sasha.

“A bedroom.”

“No way. That’s awesome.” The girl bounced in to check it out.

“You’ve obviously been on this plane before,” AJ said to her.

“A couple of times.”

“Back and forth to Europe?” he asked.

Sasha looked at him as if she wasn’t going to answer.

He shook his head. “Just curious, Stick. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Stick?”

AJ leaned in. “Sex on a Stick might make Claire uncomfortable.”

He could see her pinching her lips together to keep from smiling.

AJ took advantage of the fact that Neil was busy talking with the pilots, the attendant was taking care of their luggage, and Claire had disappeared in the bedroom. His eyes traveled the length of her. Always the same look. Black leggings or spandex . . . or leather-looking pants with a tight cotton top and a black leather jacket to cover her arms in the cold. “I bet even your pajamas are black and clingy.”

This time she whispered, “Who said I wore pajamas?”

Oh, yeah . . . his mind went there, and he once again looked her up and down. “That’s just mean.”

Now she was smiling.

“I never said I was nice.”

His dick twitched in his pants.

Claire walked back into the main cabin. “When are we taking—”

Sasha and AJ took a step apart.

“I can go back in the bedroom if you two need to be alone,” Claire said, grinning.