Deadly Gift by Heather Graham Page B

for the reality of New York, the sheer number of people, the speed at which everyone moved, the plethora of accents— the noise . She had stepped out boldly, but now he saw her just standing there as people rushed past her. She looked as if she were simply trying to breathe while she assimilated the sounds and sights around her.
    “Ah, there you are,” Sean announced, as he was wheeled behind her, an airport employee pushing the wheelchair that had been waiting for him. He’d groused about it, but they’d all—including Amanda—vetoed the idea of his walking, Amanda muttering beneath her breath that if sex was too much for his heart, she certainly wasn’t going to tax it with a long walk.
    “First time in New York, huh?” the airport employee asked, smiling. He was a very tall black man, both dignified and friendly. He wore a name tag that identified him as Samuel Smith.
    Caer looked at him and smiled, nodding.
    “Yeah, yeah, how cute,” Amanda said, walking by. “Come on, let’s go. We don’t have that much time between flights. Let’s just get this over with.”
    “Sorry,” Caer said, and started walking. Suddenly she stopped and looked back. “Mr. Smith, am I going the right way?”
    “Indeed you are. Straight ahead. Just follow the signs and don’t worry about me. I’m so good at navigating these strollers, I could probably win the Indy 500.”
    When he saw the blank expression on Caer’s face, Zach stepped up beside her. “It’s a car race,” he told her, slipping an arm through hers. Amanda was being particularly annoying, he thought, and felt an urge to make it up to Caer somehow. “Maybe there will be some time to pop back down here. New York is one of the most amazing cities in the world.” He flashed her a smile. “With lots of good Irish history.”
    They cleared customs in good time and changed terminals. The much smaller plane that would take them to Rhode Island was already there and boarding. As they stepped onto the plane, Caer looked a little white again. “No champagne on this one, huh?” she whispered to Zach.
    He laughed. “No, but they do carry alcohol,” he whispered. She flushed.
    There was a row of single seats on one side of the aisle, with double seats on the other. Zach was once again next to Caer, with Amanda and Sean in front of them. Once again, Caer gripped the armrests as they took off.
    This time, when he set his hand on hers, she actually flashed him a smile of gratitude. It was a rocky flight; she was gripping his hand by the time they had been in the air for fifteen minutes.
    “This is a short flight at a lower altitude, and that’s why you’re feeling the air, plus it’s a much smaller plane, moving at a slower rate. But there’s nothing to fear. Think of it as if you were on the water. The air has waves, just like the sea, and we’re moving over those waves.”
    She nodded, but she didn’t let go of his hand.
    As he’d said, it was a short flight, and after they cleared the plane and collected their luggage, they climbed into the limo that was waiting for them. Zach handled the luggage—and there was a lot of it—with the driver, and at last, they were driving toward the house. Caer didn’t seem put off by the limo, Zach noticed. In fact, she seemed to love it. She seemed particularly enamored of the fact that there were bottles of water, soda and liquor in deep built-in wells.
    “I’ll have a water, if you don’t mind,” Sean said.
    “I’ll have a whiskey,” Amanda said, sounding bored.
    Caer handed Sean a water as Zach reached in and found a whiskey. “Want some ice with that?” he asked Amanda.
    “No way. Just hand over the bottle,” Amanda said. “I need something to get me ready to face the fury.”
    “She means Kat,” Sean explained to Caer dryly.
    Caer looked questioningly at Zach, who merely shrugged. “We all see the world in different ways,” he said lightly.
    “Of course we do, Mr. Flynn,” Amanda said irritably. “