When She Falls (The Fallen, #3)(87)

One corner of his mouth rises. “Yeah, we’re fucking dating.”

“Exclusive?”

He arches a brow. “Do I seem like someone who shares?”

“I don’t know, you seem like you could get a little wild,” I say with a smile.

He dips his head to give me a deep, searching kiss. When we break apart, I’m breathless.

“Yeah, wild about you,” he murmurs.

Warmth spreads through my chest. “What are our plans for our vacation?”

“We’re lazy travelers. The absolute worst. Most days we won’t even bother putting on our clothes.”

I laugh. “Do we at least shower?”

“Of course.” He places one hand on my tummy and slides his thumb under the hem of my shirt to touch bare skin. “But we’re environmentally conscious, so we always use the shower at the same time.”

Goosebumps spread over my flesh. “That must save so much water.”

He leans down and presses a slow, wet kiss on the side of my neck. “Heaps.”

I snuggle up to him and imagine our vacation until his warmth and the low hum of the plane eventually lull me to sleep.





Our landing is bumpy and disorienting since there aren’t any windows and we can’t see the outside. When the plane touches down, the crates rattle against their restraints.

Ras keeps a firm hold on me until the plane decelerates, one palm snug around my shoulder, and the other wrapped around my knee.

The oxy’s almost completely worn off by now, and the ache in my ribs is back, but it’s not as bad as it was before.

What hurts more is what the pain reminds me of. The moment I fell to the ground and curled up to protect myself. The shock of Papà’s foot connecting with my body.

Until that moment, some part of me still believed he loved me.

But now that part is dead.

“Where exactly are we?” I ask Ras.

“Heraklion airport.”

“Won’t we have any problems getting off?” I ask as the plane comes to a stop.

“Don’t worry,” he assures me. “Orrin’s got us all set up.”

Despite his reassurances, I’m sweating as we disembark the plane and step out into warm sunshine.

I blink against the bright light. I’ve never been to Greece before. The sea stretches across the horizon ahead of us, so close it feels like it’s only a stone’s throw away from the landing strip. A cruise ship creeps across the surface of the water against the backdrop of a rocky landscape in the far distance. There’s the unmistakable smell of brine in the air.

Ras takes my hand and leads me to a buggy that’s waiting for us. The driver greets him and makes no comment about the fact that we just got off a cargo plane and have no luggage.

I glance down at my ill-fitting Poet’s Café uniform, and I can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

Ras arches a questioning brow.

“I’m going to need some clothes.”

He does a scan of my ridiculous outfit and smirks. “I’ll take you shopping in town.”

The buggy takes us around the airport and drops us off at what seems to be the employee parking lot where we transfer to a car.

It’s all seamless. No one gives us any trouble. No one asks us any questions, not even the airport officials, or the driver.

How did Ras set all of this up on such a short notice?

“Did Orrin do all of this for us?”

“Yeah.”

“Not that I mind being in Greece, but why aren’t we going to Damiano and Vale?”

Something flashes in his gaze, but it’s gone so quickly I decide I imagined it. “It would have been too obvious. It’s better we stay somewhere off the grid until things settle down.”

That makes sense. “So where are we going?”

“To one of Orrin’s houses.”

“Will Dem and Vale come to see us soon?”

Ras coughs. “I’m not sure.”

“Will you ask the next time you call Dem?”

There’s a slight pause before he says, “I will.”

“When can I call Cleo?” I want to know how she’s doing. She must be worried about me, although Vale’s probably told her I’m with Ras.

“I’ll get some burner phones in town when we go shopping tomorrow.”

“Okay.” I smile at him.

We drive for about fifteen minutes and then turn onto a windy cliff-side road lined with simple houses, so I’m not expecting the stunning villa that appears when we reach the end of a narrow driveway.

“Wow,” I breathe. Whitewashed walls, terracotta-tiled roof, and vibrant-blue wood shutters on the windows. The property is tucked behind a dense barrier of trees, so it’s completely hidden from the main road.

Ras unlocks the antique-looking wooden door and holds it open for me.

The interior of the villa is just as stunning as the exterior. I manage to take in the high ceilings with wooden beams that run across them and the rustic furniture, but the showstopper is the view. My jaw falls open. “Holy shit.”

The windows face the Mediterranean, and the breathtaking view of the water is framed with two olive trees.

“Do you like it?” Ras asks, appearing at my side.