Chapter 12

Royce hated planes. He didn't used to, but since he lost his parents, he'd viewed them as giant deathtraps. The pilot announced their flight time and the weather conditions on the way to Moscow, and Royce's stomach knotted. He'd flown often over the years but had never gotten over the ache of his memories of that tragic night.

He would sit frozen in his first-class seat of the Boeing 747 and not be able to breathe. The engines would come to life and the flight attendant would walk the length of the cabin, calm and casual, but nothing could distract him from his fear. He would grip the armrest until his knuckles were white, even before takeoff.

Every time the memories of losing his parents came back, they were as dark and heavy as a midnight sea, drawing him down into their depths.

Royce grinned as he, Wes, and Emery raided his dad's liquor cabinet and sat in the den watching TV. His parents wouldn't get home until late tonight, and they could hide the empty bottle of Jack Daniel's long before then. They didn't talk about school. They talked about girls or sports or a hundred things that seemed so important at the time.

The phone rang, but he ignored it. Half an hour later the police arrived at his door. Two officers stepped out of their vehicles, caps in their hands, heads bowed.

"Are you Royce Devereaux?" one man asked.

He nodded and searched their faces, trying to figure out why cops would be here at all.

"There's been an accident. The plane carrying your parents missed the runway in the fog." The second officer swallowed thickly and continued. "I'm sorry, but there were no survivors."

The words seemed to make the air hum like a hive of bees deep in his skull. He couldn't escape the sound. He tried to speak, but no words came out. His eyes burned. His heart froze, unable to beat.

When Royce's legs gave out, it was his friends who caught him and held him up.

"Dr. Devereaux, do you want nuts?" The sweet, slightly husky voice jerked him out of the past.

Nuts? What the fuck?

Kenzie waved a bag of peanuts in front of him. "Peanuts. You want some?" The smile on her lips faltered, and he realized it was because he was glaring at her. He wiped the scowl from his face and took the shiny red packet from her. The flight attendant walked by, and Royce flagged her down. "One glass of scotch on the rocks, please."

The woman, who was no doubt barely older than Kenzie, smiled invitingly. Her eyes were warm and appreciative as she took him in. "Of course, sir. I'll bring that right away."

In another time and place, he would've taken the attendant into the nearest bathroom and punched another hole in his mile-high club card, but the thought wasn't as appealing as it used to be. He shot a look at Kenzie, who was focused on her laptop, which was already propped open on her tray table. Hans sat in the aisle seat in the row across from them, neck pillow behind his head, his eyes closed.

Smart man. I wish I could sleep on a plane like him.

Royce focused on Kenzie again, not missing that the small confines of the plane even in first class made their legs touch and their arms press together on the armrests. A soft floral scent teased his nose, and he leaned in a little, wanting to inhale the fragrance. He started to close his eyes again, but as he did so Kenzie started talking.

"I downloaded some information about Mongolia before we left. Do you want to read it?" she asked.

"Mongolia?" He was still focused on that sweet scent that was beckoning him.

"Yeah. Monte said the Russian guy, Vadym-whatever, was involved in fossil smuggling in Mongolia, remember? I figure it has to be about the Gobi Desert. That's the richest fossil location in the world."

Royce nodded. He had been in Mongolia before when he was younger. One of his first digs had been out on the steppes.

"Your drink, sir." The flight attendant set the scotch in his hands, and he didn't miss how her touch lingered on his hand a little too long. An invitation?

"Thanks. Do you want a drink, Little Mac?"

Kenzie glanced up from her screen, her cheeks pinkened. "I don't need anything."

"Rum and Coke for the lady," he told the attendant, who nodded and left.

"I don't think she wanted to get me a drink," Kenzie mused, a slightly puzzled look in her eyes.

"It's her job," Royce said. "Now show me some of the maps. It's been a while since I've been there."

Kenzie angled her computer his way. "What's the Gobi like? I've never been to a desert."

"It's colder than you'd think, this time of year. Plus, it's full of camels and yurts," Hans interrupted. Royce and Kenzie both stared at him. His eyes were still closed and he seemed to be asleep, but he'd been listening. Crafty man. Royce shook his head, trying not to laugh.

"Yurts?" Kenzie's nose wrinkled.

"Big circular enclosed tents. Can house about fifty people comfortably," Royce added.

"Comfortably?" Hans said, his eyes still closed. "Try packed like sardines."

Kenzie returned to her original question. "What's the desert like?"

Royce tried to think of a way to describe it. "It's bleak and harsh. A vast open land that's eerily silent. Sound carries across the dunes for miles. There's ice-filled canyons, and the dinosaur fossils in the steppes. Once you're out among the dunes, you can completely disappear. In a lot of ways." He sipped his scotch and noticed Kenzie was watching him with fascination.

This was one of the things he loved about her. Whenever they talked it was a genuine conversation, not just small talk. They listened to each other. Kenzie wasn't picturing her next shopping spree or wondering if her makeup looked okay. She had depthshe was real. She loved dinosaurs, just like him. They passionately argued about the conclusions of various new discoveries, conversed about the latest academic papers, and he enjoyed every minute of it. Being with her wasn't like being with the women at the Gilded Cuff. Those women were there for sexual release and physical satisfaction. Sometimes he went for hours without saying a word to his partners. With Kenzie he felt he could talk for hours or sit in silence without awkwardness. It was nice.

Kenzie lowered her voice. "So what's your plan for when we reach Moscow?"

"I have a friend, Lev Abramov. He's a professor of paleontology at Moscow State University. If there's anything going on in the fossil world on that continent, he will know about it. He'll most likely have classes during the day, so we could take in some of the sights. Hans will take care of reconnaissance on Vadym. We need to find out who he is and anything else we can about him."

Royce sipped the last of his scotch as Kenzie finished her rum and Coke. He waved the flight attendant over to collect the empty glasses. The cabin lights dimmed overhead, and a yawn escaped Kenzie's lips.

"You've barely had any sleep," he reminded her. "Not deep sleep, anyway. Why don't you rest? Use my shoulder if you need to." He shifted his body closer. His inner Dom growled in approval. She nodded, her eyes drooping a little as she leaned her head against him and settled into sleep. When it came time, he would have their chairs reclined into beds and make sure that she slept comfortably.

One of her hands came up and curled around his biceps, holding him close like she would a favorite stuffed animal. Her dark lashes fanned across her cheeks as she closed her eyes and sighed, soft and sweet, like a dream of flowers and sunshine. She deserved such dreams.

Royce settled into his seat. Moments later, he too was falling asleep. The feminine scent of Kenzie and the feel of her body tucked against him were a dream he wished he deserved, a dream he would cling to as the god Morpheus dragged him into the darkness of sleep.

***

Hans Brummer opened one eye and smiled as he saw the grad student cuddle up to her professor. Royce acted tough, and hell, he was tough, but he wasn't much older than Kenzie.

Kids today. They think they control themselves.

It was obvious to any fool that Royce was captivated by Kenzie. Hans was no stranger to Royce's lifestyle or the type of women he met at the Gilded Cuff. He'd seen more than his share of that following Emery Lockwood around for the last decade in the shadows of the Cuff, watching over him.

BDSM required trust. But Hans knew that Royce had not yet learned to trust himself, and until he did he would never be truly happy, but Kenzie had made him open up. That made Hans nervous. Love could be dangerous. If he loved someone, they could be used against him, and that could get him hurt. He hadn't wanted Kenzie to come, but he knew Royce. Once his mind was set, there was no changing it.

Hans peered out the window of the plane, watching the clouds far below turn turbulent and stormy.