CHAPTER 12
They made a mid-afternoon flight. Barely. The mad dash through the concourse left Sam swearing she’d get back to the gym for something other than yoga. She was still winded as she crossed the jet bridge. Griff hadn’t even broken a sweat. Of course.
From the moment they’d gotten a location, everything had been go-go-go action. There’d been no time to think. She hadn’t really allowed herself to think since the whole search started. But as she settled into the window seat and buckled her safety belt, the whole thing started catching up to her.
She was on a plane to Vegas—somewhere she’d sworn she’d never go again—with the very man who was the reason for that edict.
Because something like panic was l*****g at her heels, she’d made excuses, pulling out her laptop to catch up on g
