Chapter 35
EVANGELINE
As promised, the knock on my door comes at exactly five minutes before ten.
Heart lifting, I zip up my medicine pouch and throw it in my bag, then I tuck my hair behind my ears, checking my outfit once more.
I’ve opted for comfy casual for the flight. I chose my favorite elastic waistband shorts, animal print, of course, with a basic black tee, white Chucks, and a few Granata-red accessories as a little nod to Alaric. After all, it is his favorite color.
Excitement zings through me as I practically skip from the bathroom to the door.
I swing it open with a flourish, beaming, but the second I meet the eyes of the man before me, my stomach plummets to the floor.
“There’s been a slight change of plans,” he says calmly, holding up both hands in surrender. Between the concern etched in his face and the defeated pull of his brow, his words are hard to believe.
My mouth falls open, my heart pounding and my thoughts going in every direction.
“Everything is okay,” he assures me. “Nothing about our plans in Monaco is changing.”
A breath escapes me. I’m still discombobulated, but that statement gives me at least some level of peace.
“That said, we are no longer flying alone.”
Okay. My shoulders relax a little. Not great news, but not the worst either. I’ve spent plenty of time in economy class thanks to Luca’s cheap-ass spending habits.
“We are going today, though, right?”
“We are,” he replies, “but we’ll have five additional passengers.”
Before I can think to school my expression, I scrunch my nose.
“I’m so sorry,” he blurts out. “One of the airlines had a major outage and had to ground flights all over Europe today. Leslie asked if she could add these crew members to my flight to avoid delaying their arrival.” He runs a hand through his hair, his jaw ticking. “I couldn’t very well tell her no.”
I gnaw on my bottom lip, considering what this means. Who is joining us? What are they going to think when I get on the plane?
An insidious wisp of panic swirls low in my belly.
“How am I supposed to explain why I’m on this flight with you?” I worry. “What will Leslie think?”
With one hand, he rubs his temple. “She won’t be on the flight,” he says. “She went home to spend a few days with her wife and kids. That’s the second reason we chose to put these people on my plane. I didn’t want her working when she should be spending quality time with her family.”
Hands on his hips, he blows out a breath.
“The cancelations happened early this morning, before the crew had even headed to the airport. We can tell them you were supposed to fly out this morning as well.”
I cross my arms, slumping against the open door. “I’m so bad at lying.”
I get all jumble up and start stammering. I don’t want to mess this up, especially with what’s at stake.
Alaric cups my face, his expression beseeching.
“So don’t lie. I doubt anyone will ask questions, honestly.
Mick is joining us, along with a few people from his team, and someone from the PR department who was heading to Monaco early to make content.
None of them have any reason to question your presence on the flight. ”
I blow out a long breath.
“You’re sure this is okay?” I hedge.
Aside from the logistical nightmare, the consequences that would come if this plan fell apart could be severe. What we’re doing suddenly feels so much riskier.
He lifts one shoulder. “I’ve stopped concerning myself with what’s logical when it comes to you, angel. This is what I want. And honestly, if we’d been spotted traveling alone, that would have raised more questions than a handful of Granata employees joining me on a private jet.”
I nod, letting his reassurances soothe the frayed edges of my nerves. “So I guess this means no funny business on the plane, huh?”
One brow cocked, he shakes his head. “As much as I trust my team and the pilots, my concern for your general well-being makes most funny business a nonstarter.”
I roll my eyes, and he responds with a look filled with warning.
Now that the mood is lightened, he steps into my room. “Come here,” he murmurs, pulling me into his arms.
With the closed door at my back, he kisses me deeply. His mouth moves against mine in a steady rhythm. With each passing second, my worries melt away, the anxiety replaced by hunger and the growing throb between my legs.
“You look beautiful.” He scans me from head to toe when we finally break apart. He catches my chin, tipping it back in a position that’s becoming all too familiar. “I cannot wait to get there and get you alone,” he tells me, hungry eyes searching my face.
“You’re sure about this?” I ask for what must be the tenth time since he invited me.
“So sure,” he tells me without hesitation.
Galvanized by his confidence, I pop up onto my tiptoes and plant a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Okay, then. Let’s go.”
We arrive at the tarmac first and settle in across the aisle from each other. Like this, we’re close but not too close.
He’s growly and a little cranky, like he’s frustrated by the situation. I get it. Because not only are we not alone, but now he has to be in team principal mode for the duration of the flight.
Still. There’s something ridiculously hot about this in-control, domineering man glancing over at me with quiet desperation, turning salty every time a flight attendant or the copilot comes to speak to him and breaks our connection.
Mick and two other people I recognize from the cafeteria—Vinnie and Ian—arrive together. That makes sense. The culinary team is one of the very last to leave any location, but they’re also needed at the next location quickly so Mick can source local ingredients and start working on menus.
A young woman from the PR team named Kara is next to arrive. She smiles politely but quickly takes a seat, puts her headphones on, and closes her eyes.
The last team member is a guy named Pete. He’s a tire technician, and rather than traveling with the rest of his crew, he stayed back to help the manufacturer with post-race testing on Monday.
As each person boards, they exchange greetings and chat with Alaric, clearly comfortable in his presence.
A shroud of awkwardness settles over me as I sit in my seat and try to look unaffected by the man across the aisle.
We’ll land in Nice in less than two hours, but unfortunately, I didn’t pack anything in my carry-on to pass the time.
I assumed Alaric would have my full attention during the flight, which seems silly now. Even if it was just the two of us on this plane, there’s still the crew to consider. Any hopes I had of joining the Mile High Club are really more like far-fetched dreams at this point.
Takeoff goes smoothly, and before long we’ve reached cruising altitude.
“Evan, want to play Texas hold ’em?” Ian holds up a deck of cards.
I’m good at poker. Really good, in fact. And playing is a great way to pass the time. It’ll also help distract me from ogling Alaric in front of our colleagues.
“Sure,” I tell the guys as the seat belt sign goes off. “I’m game.”
Leisurely, I stand roll my neck from side to side and use the seat in front of me for leverage as I stretch my back. Then I move across the aisle to join their seating section, discreetly peeking at Alaric, whose head is bowed, his focus set on his laptop.
“Do you know how to play?” Vinnie asks, shuffling the cards with large, tatted hands.
I can’t fight back my grin. So much for keeping my cool. My poker face is shit.
“I’m from Texas, boys. Deal me in and prepared to be whooped.”