Page 25 of Branded

“And James is thirty. He’s the baby, the oops, a wild card, if you will. He runs the whiskey distillery.” He sets his empty glass down. “He’ll probably be the only one who doesn’t immediately try to figure out how to use you for his own purposes.”

The plane starts moving, taxiing toward the runway. My hands grip the armrests, knuckles white, because I hate walking into situations where I’m behind the eight ball.

“What do they know about me?” I ask.

“Not much yet.” Sebastian leans forward, elbows resting on his knees, closing the distance between us. “My father texted in the night. I might run the auctions, but he’s never very far from every business that we run.”

“Did you tell him anything about me?”

“No. I’m sure Dad’s figured out who you are, but if he knows your family, he hasn’t said anything to me.” The plane accelerates, engines roar, and then we lift off, California dropping away beneath us.

Sebastian stands and walks away from his seat, and I turn back to the window, watching clouds rush past. Three hours to Texas. Three hours before my life once again changes into something I don’t recognize.

“There are rules,” Sebastian says, returning to his seat with a fresh drink. “For when we’re with my family.”

“Of course there are.” I sigh.

“First, you don’t contradict me. Ever. If I say something, you agree. If they ask you questions, you defer to me.” He watches me over the rim of his glass. “Second, you’re affectionate. Hold my hand. Let me touch you. Act like we’re newlyweds who can’t keep our hands off each other.”

My stomach turns again. “Right, I’ll try to remember that.”

“Don’t embarrass me in front of my family.” His voice is sharper than I expected. Maybe sharper than he intended.

“I’m not feral, Sebastian, I know how to be appealing and accommodating. You’re well acquainted with that side of me.”

“Third,” he continues, “you don’t discuss our arrangement with anyone. The entire family knows about the auctions, but we don’t discuss them. What happens between us stays between us, and our agreement stays between us.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

He stands and walks to the back of the plane. “I’m going to make some calls. There’s food in the galley if you’re hungry.”

Then he disappears into what I assume is an office, leaving me alone with my whiskey, my thoughts and the reality that I’m flying toward a family that will smile at me while assessing my worth both as a wife to a powerful man and a new member of an influential family.

I must have dozed off at some point because I wake to Sebastian’s hand on my shoulder, shaking me gently.

“We’re landing in twenty minutes,” he says. “You need to cover up.”

I blink, disoriented. The sun is lower now, late afternoon light streaming through the windows. My neck aches from sleeping at an awkward angle.

Sebastian holds out a silk dress, deep burgundy, expensive. It has long sleeves and a high neckline, with a delicate slit that stops mid-thigh. Pure elegance.

“You can change in the bedroom.” He points to the door he exited moments ago. Without hesitating, I walk to the back and into the bedroom. It looks like the rest of the plane, but the large bed takes up most of the space. There is a desk with some papers neatly organized, and part of me wants to snoop, but instead I just change into the dress.

“Now you look fit to be presented as my wife,” he says when I walk back into the main cabin.

Wife. I can’t get used to the idea, but I don’t react. I won’t give him the satisfaction.

I look out the window as the plane descends. Texas spreads out beneath us, flat, brown, endless. So different from Montana’s mountains and California’s coast. This is Drake country: their land, their rules, their world.

And now mine.

The plane touches down on a private airstrip, bouncing slightly before smoothing out. Through the window, I can see buildings in the distance, massive barns, what looks like a main house, vehicles moving on dirt roads. The Drake ranch.

“Remember the rules,” Sebastian says as the plane taxies to a stop. “Smile. Be charming. Act like you’re in love with me.”

“I barely know you.”

He moves his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him. “You can and you will. You’re my wife, that’s the only thing that matters.”