Craving The Wrong Brother (Sloane and Knox) novel Chapter 241

Chapter 241

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It’s been a week since I told Luke the news, and true to his word, I’ve been imprisoned in his house–well, partial imprisonment. He drives me to work every morning and picks me up every evening. On the day of my dating scan, I’d had to steal his keys while he was in the shower. That was the closest I’ve gotten to freedom.

I feel like my limbs are becoming useless outside of work, and it’s making me crazy.

It’s Saturday, and I’m still lazing about in bed.

Julie,” Luke calls, “are you

awake?”

He knows I’m awake, but he also knows that he’d need a crowbar to separate me from this bed before 6 a.m.

“Go away,” I say, covering my head with a pillow.

The pillow over my head muffles Luke’s voice, but I still hear every smug syllable.

“Come on, Kitten. We have a busy day today.”

freeze. The pillow slides off just enough to uncover one eye,

“Did you just call me Kitten?”

“Did I?” He’s leaning against the doorway, arms crossed.

“I think you did.”

“Great. It got you awake, didn’t it?” He strides over, grabs my hands, and tugs me up. “Now, go prepare. I made reservations for seafood.”

I groan, letting my head loll back dramatically. “Can’t I have seafood in bed?”

“You need to exercise your body more.” He plants a kiss on my forehead before delivering a soft slap to my butt. “Go get ready.”

“Aww,” I say, flipping him off as I shuffle toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, very mature,” he says, laughing behind me.

When I emerge dressed, he’s waiting by the door with his keys twirling around his finger. His grin is boyish, contagious, and slightly suspicious.

“Let’s go,” he says,

The car ride starts off uneventful. Luke hums along to a soft rock station while I scroll through my phone, feeling the vibrations of the road beneath us. But then something catches my eye,

The road outside is getting familiar. Too familiar,

I sit up straighter, watching as the trees thin and the signs begin to shift. And then, there it is: ‘Airport, in bright, bold letters.

I turn to Luke, narrowing my eyes. “I thought you said we were getting seafood. Why are we at the airport?”

He doesn’t even glance at me. “You ask a lot of questions.”

“Being quiet is how you get kidnapped.”

“I’ve never been unclear about my intention to kidnap you. I don’t know why that’s an issue now.”

I laugh, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”

But my laughter dies as we pull into the private terminal. Luke steers the car into a designated parking area where a staff member approaches immediately, all smiles and professional politeness.

“Good morning, Sir, Ma’am. Welcome. May I assist you with your luggage?”

14

11:10 AM

Chapter 241

Luggage? I blink, watching as Luke pops open the trunk. Two suitcases sit there, neatly packed.

I fold my arms. “You packed?”

“Yep.”

“For what, exactly?”

“To get seafood.”

I follow him as the staff leads us toward the terminal, my curiosity boiling over. “Where are we going?”

“To get seafood,” he repeats, grinning.

“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”

“Anything more than we’re getting seafood? No.”

I shake my head, smiling despite myself. He’s enjoying this way too much.

We walk through the private terminal, a world of luxury far from the chaos of commercial travel. Polished marble floors, and the air smells faintly of pine and cinnamon. The decorations are extravagant but tasteful: poinsettias line the hallways, garlands drape elegantly from the ceiling, and holiday music plays softly in the background.

Security is swift but thorough, and soon we’re escorted onto the tarmac where a private jet waits. The words Couture Private Air are emblazoned on its side.

The moment we step on board, a flight attendant greets us with a warm smile. “Good morning, Mr. Martinez, Ms. Jenkins. Welcome aboard.”

I’m handed a glass of orange juice without asking, and Luke gets coffee. The cabin is stunning–plush leather seats, soft ambient lighting, and windows framed with more garlands.

Luke settles into one of the wide, reclining seats, patting the one next to him. “Sit.”

I lower myself into the seat, still wary. “You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.” He grins, looking far too pleased with himself.

The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom. “Good morning, Mr. Martinez and Ms. Jenkins. We’ll be taking off shortly. Please sit back, reiax, and enjoy the flight. Our estimated arrival time is just under three hours.”

Three hours? “I thought you said we were getting seafood?”

Luke sips his coffee nonchalantly. “Oh, we are. For lunch.”

I stare at him, a million questions crowding my mind, but I decide not to ask any. This is Luke. If he’s gone to this much trouble, I might as well let him have his fun.

The engines roar to life, and the plane begins to taxi down the runway. I glance at Luke, who’s watching me with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

“You might want to order breakfast after we take off,” he says. “We’ve got a long day ahead, Kitten.”

At some point after breakfast, I must have passed out on the plane because when I wake up, the cabin is bathed in soft light, and I feel the gentle descent of the jet. My head is resting against Luke’s shoulder, and his fingers are lazily drawing circles on my arm. “Welcome back, sleepyhead,” he says.

I blink, disoriented, and glance out the window. The ocean gleams below us, an endless expanse of turquoise shimmering under the bright sun. We’re gliding down toward a strip of pristine white sand, dotted with swaying palm trees.

“Where are we?” I ask.

11:10 AM

“Nassau? As in… the Bahamas?”

He smirks. “That’s the one.”

“We are.”

I grab his collar, pulling him close in a fierce hug. “Oh, Luke. That’s so sweet. I’ve always wanted to visit. It’s-” I pull back, looking out the window again, unable to believe it. “It’s so beautiful.”

Moments later, we’re descending the stairs into the blazing sunlight. The air smells of salt and hibiscus, rich and intoxicating.

At the bottom of the stairs, a black Escalade awaits. The driver stands beside it, his hands clasped in front of him. His dark sunglasses reflect the sky.

I settle in, my eyes glued to the window as we pull away. The streets of Nassau unfold before me in a vibrant display. Brightly colored buildings–pink, yellow, turquoise. The energy is infectious: vendors call out to passersby, selling fresh coconuts and handmade trinkets; children laugh and chase each other in the streets; steel drums play a rhythmic melody in the background.

The driver clears his throat, his eyes meeting mine through the rearview mirror. “Good afternoon, folks. I’m Daniel, your tour guide for today. Mr. Martinez told me it’s a special trip, so I’m here to make sure you see the best Nassau has to offer.”

I lean forward, curious. “What’s the best part of Nassau?”

Daniel smiles. “Depends on what you’re looking for. The history, the beaches, the food.., or maybe something a little more adventurous?”

Luke’s hand tightens on my knee. “We’ll take all of it.”

“You’re in for a treat then.”

The drive continues with Daniel pointing out landmarks and sharing stories about the island’s history. His voice is animated, and I find myself hanging onto every word.

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