Page 53 of The Hero
“This is one of the royal planes from Liechtenstein,” he said. “I recognize the flag on the backs of the seats.”
It wasn’t really a question, but the woman behind him answered anyway. “Yes. Your wife called your friends. Prince Redmon set things in motion for us to extract you. We are on our way to Maine, where the prince and the others will most certainly be waiting for you.”
“What? How?” Bob stuttered.
“I do not know. I was called to the plane and briefed on your condition on the way to Cambodia. You will have to ask your wife when she wakes up what happened before we arrived.”
Bob closed his eyes and tightened his hold on Marlowe. His wife. Damn if that didn’t sound good. “Were there any issues getting us out?”
The doctor chuckled. “None. No one would dare mess with the royal family. You had the proper documentation, forged of course, and Liechtenstein passports.”
Bob’s head was spinning. Cal had somehow gotten him and Marlowe passports from his home country? Holy crap, the man had more pull than he’d expected. He owed him. Huge. Even though he knew Cal wouldn’t let him do a damn thing to thank him.
“You would not calm until she climbed onto the stretcher with you,” the doctor told him. “As soon as she did, she basically passed out. I don’t think she’s gotten any sleep recently. You should take better care of her.”
Bob took the small rebuke to heart. He’d messed up. Big time. He’d known his wounds were infected, and yet he’d hidden that fact from Marlowe because he didn’t want her to worry. He figured he at least had time to get back to the States before he’d have to worry about medical care. He’d obviously been wrong. By the time he got them to the room by the airport, he’d been in big trouble.
How exactly had Marlowe gotten them rescued? Everything was a big blank in his head, and he hated it. But he wasn’t going to wake Marlowe to ask her. She was deadweight against him and obviously needed the sleep.
“You should get her checked out too. She’s tiny. And she did not eat. Ididget her to drink some water, but she needs much more.”
Bob nodded, then inhaled sharply as the doctor probed one of the wounds in his back.
“Sorry,” she said, not sounding particularly apologetic. “These need stitching, but the infection needs to come out first. I’m draining them now. There’s some pain meds in your IV, but if you need more, let me know.”
What she was doing hurt like hell, but Bob didn’t ask for more narcotics. The pain was a result of his stupidity. Besides, he’d been through worse when he was a captive. “I’m good,” he told her.
When the doctor was done with his back, she fussed with his IV for a moment, nodded at him, then walked around the stretcher to sit in one of the seats toward the front of the plane, giving him and Marlowe some privacy. Before walking off, she’d told him they had about three more hours to go before landing in Bangor. He’d clearly been out for a long time.
When they arrived, Bob had a feeling he’d have to answer to a lot of people. He needed to make sure Marlowe’s brother knew she was safe and call Willis and update him, and he’d most definitely have to talk to his friends. Try to explain the secret life he’d been living.
He ran a hand over Marlowe’s head, and was surprised when she stirred. He moved his hand to her nape and tightened his hold, supporting her head as she leaned back to look up at him.
“Kendric?”
“Yeah, Punky, it’s me.”
She immediately burst into tears, burrowing her face in his chest and crying all over him.
Figuring it was a release of the tension over whatever had happened while he’d been unconscious, Bob did his best not to panic. He simply held her tightly as she sobbed.
Before long, she sniffed and leaned back once more. “You’re okay.” It wasn’t a question.
“I am,” he assured her anyway.
“I was so worried.”
“I’m so sorry—” he started, but she shook her head.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” she told him.
Bob was relieved Marlowe hadn’t tried to get up, to leave his embrace. He wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to let her go. She felt perfect right where she was. As if she was meant to be in his arms.
He’d tried halfheartedly to resist his feelings for this woman as they fled Thailand and traveled across Cambodia, knowing he and Marlowe would eventually part ways. But even without knowing the details of how he’d gotten to be on this plane, his feelings had changed yet again. Or more honestly, deepened.
She’d taken care of them both while he was out of it. She’d managed to get them out of Cambodia safely, and he was even more proud of her than he’d been before, which was saying a hell of a lot, since he’d already been overwhelmed by how she’d dealt with everything.
“Want to tell me how we ended up on a royal Liechtenstein plane on our way to Maine?” he asked.
