The Accidental Assassin - Page 80/93

He opened his mouth but I gave him a stern look.

“It’s like those people that are okay with eating beef and Thanksgiving turkey as long as they don’t actually have to kill, skin, de-feather, or whatever the hell you do to prepare an animal to cook. You’ve been getting rid of all these horrible people so everyone else could eat their turkey. You deserve to have some turkey, too.”

His lips trembled and I realized he was fighting a laugh.

“I’m not explaining this very well.” Heat filled my cheeks. “Damn it. I’m trying to convince you to be happy, but I can’t make you. You have to decide to be happy. I read that in a book, but it’s true. You’re a fucking assassin, Owen! You don’t follow the rules and that works for you. You take what you want, what you need.”

I clamped my mouth shut. Any minute I was going to be using one liners from rom-com movies and ask him to love me—just a girl sitting naked on his lap.

His face turned serious and I felt my stomach drop.

“We don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in England, love.” He trailed a finger down the side of my cheek.

“You know what I meant.” I narrowed my eyes.

“And you compared yourself to a turkey.” A glimmer appeared in his eyes.

“Okay, I wasn’t making much sense—”

“You were rambling.” He leaned forward and kissed my chin, then the tip of my nose. “But you did say something that made sense.”

“I did?” My voice was breathless as he kissed one cheek and then the other.

“Yes, my American turkey, you did.” His chuckle lifted the weight that had settled in my stomach.

“You reminded me that I’m an assassin.” He wrapped his arms around my waist. “And I’m a really good fucking assassin. I’ve always had my own code of ethics. I do what I think is necessary. Even when that means stealing something important.” He kissed my neck. “Something valuable.” He kissed my shoulder. “Something I needed.”

I took a deep breath, trying to focus on what he was saying.

“I’ve been fighting what I wanted, what I needed. I wasn’t strong enough though. That wasn’t working for me.” In a quick move he rolled me onto my back and propped himself above me. “So I’m not going to fight it anymore. I’m keeping you, Ava. You’re mine and no one is taking you from me.”

I looked up into his eyes and felt my eyes sting. “That’s good, because you didn’t really have a choice.”

“I’m not much for words, Ava, but I want you to know something.”

“What’s that?” I brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“I love you.” The amount of sincerity in those three words brought tears to my eyes.

If I wasn’t looking up at him I would swear that I was floating. My body felt alive and my soul felt full. Full in a way that I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

“I love you too, Owen.”

EVERYTHING WAS BATHED in a dark shade of red. I would kill them all. Staring at the floor was the only way I could keep from meeting other people’s eyes and sending them scattering. The monster I kept carefully caged was prowling behind the bars, thirsty for blood and the need to cause agony.

Every single man that turned and stared at Ava’s ass as we walked through the airport was on my shit list and that wasn’t a list people wanted to make.

Her skirt hung well past her knees and yet that only seemed to enhance the sexiness of her curves. The teal of her low-cut sweater made her eyes almost glow. She’d added a little extra sway to her walk with the mile-high heels.

I couldn’t really blame the men; she was a knock-out.

But she was my knock-out and watching other men enjoy what I’d just claimed made me want to rage. Jealousy was a nasty emotion. No wonder some people paid to kill off their rivals.

“Ms. Gardner, can you hand me the information for the flight?” Mavis held her hand out without looking.

“Of course.” Ava reached into her bag and pulled out a sheet with flight information and placed it in Mavis’s hand.

“As you can see, we have all the appropriate information.” Mavis cocked her head at the woman manning the private terminal.

“Of course, Mrs. Thomasino.”

“Miss Thomasino,” Mavis corrected her curtly.

“Yes, ma’am.” The woman smiled and it almost looked genuine. “And I’ll need the documentation for the people flying with you.”

“It’s in with the rest of the papers.” Mavis looked away from the woman, boredom radiating from every pore.

“Ah, yes. I see it here.” She punched some information into the computer before stepping around the corner and lifting a rope. “This way, please.”

Private planes came in different makes, sizes, and opulence. From the grandeur of the terminal we were being led down, I felt it safe to assume the company wasted no money on their planes. Flying wasn’t something that I minded, but doing so on an expensive private jet certainly made it more enjoyable.

The woman from the gate handed us off to a different attendant that placed our bags on a cart and led us onto the tarmac. White paint so bright it almost blinded us was broken up by a thin silver pin-stripe that ran from nose to tail. A tall bloke ducked out of the door and quick-stepped down the stairs.

He pulled his idiotic captain’s hat off his head and watched us as we approached, a giant smile splitting his face. His eyes tracked Mavis as she swayed toward him before darting past her to check out the other possible conquest and stopped dead.