The private jet's cabin was a beautiful decor of cream leather and polished wood. I sat curled on Lucien's lap, his arms holding me close, chin resting on top of my head. Through the window, clouds stretched endlessly white beneath us.

"What if she refuses?" I asked for the third time.

"Then we negotiate harder." His voice rumbled through his chest into my back.

"What if she calls the police the second she returns to the states?"

"Stop worrying." His hand rubbed slow circles on my hip.

"I ...