With traffic, our ride to the airport takes a little over an hour. To my surprise, we don’t go to O’Hare. Instead we end up at a small airstrip where a sizable plane awaits our arrival. I can make out the letters ‘G650’ on its tail.

“Is that yours?” I ask as Julian opens the car door for me.

“Yes.” He doesn’t look at me or elaborate further. Instead his gaze appears to be scanning our surroundings, as though looking for hidden threats. There is an alertness to his manner that I don’t remember seeing before, and for the first time, I realize that the island was his sanctuary as well, a place where he could truly relax and let down his guard.

As soon as I climb out, Julian grips my elbow and ushers me toward the plane. The driver follows us. I didn’t see him before, as a panel separated the backseat area of the car from the front, so now I sneak a glance at him as we walk toward the plane.

The guy must be one of Julian’s Navy SEALs. His blond hair is cut short, and his pale eyes are ice-cold in his square-jawed face. He’s even taller than Julian, and he moves with the same athletic, warrior-like grace, his every movement carefully controlled. There is a huge assault rifle in his hands, and I have no doubt that he knows exactly how to use it. Another dangerous man… one that many women would undoubtedly find attractive, with his regular features and muscular body. He doesn’t appeal to me, but I’m spoiled. Few men can hold a candle to Julian’s dark-angel allure.

“What kind of a plane is this?” I ask Julian as we walk up the steps and enter a luxurious cabin. I don’t know anything about private jets, but this one looks fancy. I’m doing my best not to gawk at everything, but I’m failing miserably. The cream-colored leather seats inside are huge, and there is an actual couch with a coffee table in front of it. There is also an open door leading to the back of the airplane, and I catch a glimpse of a king-size bed sitting there.

My mouth falls open in shock. The plane has a bedroom.

“It’s one of the higher-end Gulfstreams,” he replies, turning me so he can help me take off my coat. His warm hands brush against my neck, sending a pleasant shiver through me. “An ultra-long-range business jet. It can take us directly to our destination without needing to make a fuel stop.”

“It’s very nice,” I say, watching as Julian hangs my coat in the closet by the door and then takes off his own jacket. I can’t take my eyes off him, and I realize that a part of me still fears that this is not real—that I’ll wake up and find out that this was all just a dream… that Julian had truly died in the explosion.

The thought causes a shudder to run through me, and Julian notices my involuntary movement. “Are you cold?” he asks, stepping toward me. “I can have the temperature adjusted.”