“You are going to fill the airplane with smoke, beloved.”
The sudden voice broke me from my thoughts and directed my attention toward its source. Looking at her caused an instantaneous smile to surface on my face, something she mirrored within seconds when her eyes met mine. Flawless. That is the only way I could describe Celeste. Everything from her raven hair to her alabaster skin and her sensual figure had been shaped by the gods themselves.
Celeste leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, crossing her legs and hitching the hem of her skirt up her thigh in the process. I admired the view until she cleared her throat in a deliberate manner. “What were you thinking about?” she asked, eyebrow perked and smile indelibly fixed on her face.
I chuckled, shifting in my seat to face her. The plush interior of her airbus came into view once more. I ignored the humming of the jet’s engines as I spoke. “Are you certain you wish to know, beloved?”
“In for a penny, in for a pound.” She nodded. “Go on and tell me. I imagine I know what anyway.”
“Then why do you want me to say it?” I asked.
“I just do.”
We continued looking at each other. I nodded. “We both have missed him, have we not?”
“Yes.” She spoke the word as though it had been resting on her tongue, waiting to spring forth. “I want our house in order again.”
“So do I.” I sighed, glancing away. “So do I.”
A tense silence settled between us, my thoughts wandering to several days ago when Victor stood on our porch steps, glancing back at us while Jacob waited in the car. The limosine idled and time stood still long enough for Celeste to settle in my arms and both of us to take one lingering glance at the man we affectionately called Maestro. From his short, dark hair to his polished shoes, he stood with his posture just as upright as ever. In his eyes, I detected a sadness, though.
Especially when they settled on the woman I held in my arms.
She tensed in response. We both frowned and he mirrored our expression before he turned and closed the distance between him and the car. The door closing echoed in the stillness. Or, so it seemed to in my thoughts, anyway. Celeste and I disappeared inside our Shreveport home, sparing ourselves the sight of the tailights growing distant in the dark.
“He has been doing fine without us,” I said, as much to fill the silence as to reassure myself.
“Oui,” Celeste said. My eyes returned to her in time to catch her wiping at her eyes. “Oh, I know he has. You know how Victor is. He takes everything in stride.”
“Strong and stalwart is our maestro.”
“Indeed.” She sighed.
I sighed as well. “But have we?” I asked after some seconds passed.
“Have we what?”
“Been doing fine without him.” I perked an eyebrow.
Celeste scoffed, standing. “Well, of course we have,” she said. “Don’t you think so?”
“Oh yes, well, of course.” I nodded. “I mean, Flynn had chance to spend some time with you, and I know he has missed you a great deal.” Smirking on impulse, I suppressed a chuckle at the timing of Flynn’s emergence. He did so hate to share Celeste.
Celeste grinned as though reading my thoughts. “Mmm… Diablo.” The shiver that ran over her struck me as an erotic caress, with Celeste’s hands touching her own body in response. “I always enjoy when the assassin emerges.”
My alter ego lifted his head within my psyche. I shoved it back down, reminding him this was my night. “Rest assured the sentiment is mutual, beloved. He purred like a kitten when you said his name.”
She laughed and allowed her hands to drift to her sides. I followed her path to the wet bar on the plane before speaking again. “And I have enjoyed being able to spend some time alone with you as well.”
Her eyes shifted to mine, a soft smile hinting at the corners of her mouth. “Je t’aime, mon coeur.”
“Et toi aussi, ma belle femme.”
Celeste winked. I grinned at being able to say the words once more as they meant more to us than merely being playful bits of French shared from one to the other. Ma femme – my wife – and the last name she had taken to using these days, my own, Dawes; I continued to be held captive by seeing her clad in my family colors. Still, a part of me wondered if the name Madden did not belong to her as well.
The moment his name surfaced again, so did my memories.
So many of them private recollections. So many of them shared experiences. Things Celeste and I could exchange and chuckle about as we remembered the little things encompassing each snapshot. How he earned the nickname ‘zen master’. How he preened with the slightest ego boost. How his eyes glinted each time we devised something decadent to round out our enchanted evenings. Nary a corner of Shreveport did not contain some memory which could be conjured like a witch’s spell.
Things Celeste kept locked inside her heart. Private gardens she would stroll through whenever she paused to think of Victor. Those things I never dared speak aloud, which I kept hidden inside as well. We understood, Celeste and I did, and never forced the other to disclose everything surrounding those private moments. So long as everything remained right between us.
And as I looked at Celeste, I saw nothing but beauty and promise framed in the woman who walked up to me.
Holding two drinks in her hands, she placed both on a table beside me and sat on my lap, curling close to me and nuzzling at my neck while my arms wrapped tight around her. I kissed her head and whispered to her how much I loved her while relishing these final moments before we were to land in Vegas. The window beside me treated us to a panoramic view of Sin City and she and I shared a grin while our minds spun dizzy with prospects. Tours of the city. Hunts late at night surrounded by the lights of casinos and strip clubs. As the plane made its final approach, however, both of us thought of one thing only.
Being reunited with Victor.
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