Chapter 40

Janus

Traveling by private jet really does make flying a luxury.

Dani is sitting beside me, furiously typing on her laptop as she searches for any further information on the trafficking ring we’re now chasing up.

It feels like yesterday we were just in Istanbul taking down the traffickers there.

I never thought I’d love the word ‘we’ more than I do now.

Our work uncovering and taking down the trafficking rings in Greece and Turkey ended up going viral—massively so. It’s solidified Danielle Robinson as a megastar of the investigative journalism world.

I’d like to see any man doubt her ability to work better than them now.

I turn to look at her, smiling even though she doesn’t even notice.

“Things will be different now. People know your face, you know.”

It takes Dani a few seconds to realize that I’m talking to her—not that there’s anybody else on the plane for me to talk to.

“Huh? What did you say, Janus?”

I shake my head in fake despair.

“You’re hopeless when you’re engrossed in work, Miss Robinson. I said that things will be different now that everyone knows your face. It’s not every day you get nominated for a Nobel Prize, after all.”

Dani frowns at me. “And what do you mean by that?”

I stare at her pointedly, as if my meaning should be obvious.

“I mean that you can’t just rock up to a flesh auction with a new name and get away with it. From now on, you’ll have to enter the world of believable disguises.”

I watch as a grin slowly slides up Dani’s face.

“Good thing that that’s my partner’s forte, then.”

I laugh. I suppose it really is a good thing.

I run my fingers through her long, beautiful hair.

“I hope you’re not too attached to all of this.”

Dani snakes her fingers through mine.

“You’re the one attached to my hair, not me. And can’t I wear wigs, anyway?”

“Sometimes, it’s literally easier to chop and dye your own hair than to try and source a believable wig. Imagine trying to source one on the shady streets of Samara, for example.”

“I thought we were heading to Moscow?”

“Samara, first. Manticore is meeting us there. He prefers the smaller population of the city compared to Moscow.”

Dani rolls her eyes slightly. “I’m looking forward to working with Manticore again and maybe get to know him this time around.”

“You’re running on the assumption that he’ll allow you to get to know him.”

“Well, Kali seems like she’s in the Brotherhood’s inner circle, so why not me?” Dani rebukes, somewhat put-out.

I muss her hair slightly. “You know I’m kidding. You’ll get to know Manticore just as much as Kali does.”

“Something tells me that’s not very much at all.”

“You’d be correct. He’s a man of few words, after all, and not one for speaking about himself.”

We sit in companionable silence for a while after that, Dani working away on her laptop whilst I look out of the window to watch the clouds roll by.

Even though we’re on our way to Russia—to take down a trafficking ring, no less—life with Dani is peaceful and easy.

I don’t think I’ve ever been more content in my life.

But then I look at the stormy, snow-filled clouds outside and grimace.

I can tell Dani is smirking at me even without turning to look at her.

“I’m surprised you agreed to work on this, given how cold Russia is this time of year.”

I sigh dramatically. “Just take it as a sign of how much I love you.”

“So, it’s not about the people that need saving from the trafficking ring? Not that at all?”

I give her a knowing glance. “You know fine well I’m doing it for them. I’m still not the bleeding heart you’re trying to make me out to be, though.”

She laughs lightly. “You keep telling yourself that, Janus. Just know that you’re blatantly lying.”

I kiss her suddenly then, stealing the words from her lips.

“You’re impossible, you know,” I murmur.

Dani gives me a look. “I’d have to be, to be with you.”

I rest my forehead against Dani’s, sighing contentedly.

“What are you thinking about?” Dani asks, curious.

“You, of course. Us. How easy this all is. And how we could’ve had this years ago, if we’ve not both been so stubborn.”

Dani gives me a sad smile. “No point being so melancholic about it when we can’t do anything to change the past.”

I kiss her gently once more. “Ever the practical one, Dani. Will you never allow me to romanticize anything, even once?”

She grins. “Not even once. Your life is what you make of it, remember? I feel like an idiot told me that once.”

“Hilarious.”

Dani glances towards the cockpit, then looks suggestively at me. “How much time until we land?”

My eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t have you down for a return trip to the mile-high club, Miss Robinson. And we’re about to descend, unfortunately.”

She pouts beautifully in response.

“We’ll just have to fuck on the next flight, then,” she says, so matter-of-factly that I burst out laughing.

“But of course. Seems the natural thing to do.”

“It would just about be the only natural thing about us being in a giant metal box, suspended in the air, traveling hundreds of miles an hour.”

“Semantics, my love.”

“You know I’m all about the semantics.”

I quietly shush her with a finger, which Dani proceeds to nibble the end of instead.

I sincerely regret my next words.

“Get your seat belt back on. That’s us descending.”

“How long until we reach the hotel?” Dani inquires.

I look at my watch, frowning slightly as I work it out.

“No more than forty minutes, tops. Longer if we get dinner on the way.”

Dani gives me a wicked smile as she glances down at my crotch and back up to my face.

“Don’t you dare make any kind of food-related joke about my dick, woman.”

She laughs. “I was merely going to suggest that dinner could wait, actually.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“Okay, whatever. I’m a liar. Food-related sex humor is so easy, though.”

I roll my eyes but chuckle all the same. “Just so long as you don’t start descending into puns. I’d seriously have to reconsider whether I actually love you if that happened.”

“Such a cruel man, Janus O’Connell. I never knew your love was so fickle.”

Dani rests her head against my shoulder as I chuckle in response to her outrageous statement.

I close my eyes.

Never have I been so glad to ignore my own advice from three years ago: to forget about Danielle Robinson.

With her by my side, it feels as if both of our stories are only just beginning.

Which works just fine by me.