1
ROSE
Rose Loveheart shifted uncomfortably in the aisle seat on the aeroplane as she scrolled through the emails on her mobile, flagging anything that needed urgent attention. She frowned at the space beside her again which was still empty, despite a special call over the tannoy for a missing passenger ten minutes earlier.
Where was he?He should have met her in the airport lounge two hours ago. Ten o’clock sharp – she’d emailed and told him that he’d recognise her easily because she’d be wearing a cream linen suit. He’d even made a joke about carrying a rose.
Her mobile suddenly pinged with a new text from her assistant, encouraging her to switch off her phone. ‘I can’t, there’s too much to do,’ Rose grumbled, resuming her scrolling as Coco – who was in a dog carrier perched on her lap — let out a low growl.
Getting a cramp, Rose carefully tried to shift the dog onto another section of her leg. The snow-white shih tzu was a diva at the best of times, and being flown to Italy as hand luggage, secured in a pet carrier, definitely wasn’t one of those. The air hostess had asked if she could put the dog under the seat afew minutes before, but when Coco had started to bark, she’d allowed Rose to keep her where she was.
‘It’s not dinner time yet.’ She reluctantly put the mobile into the pocket of the seat in front of her where she’d already stored her small laptop and checked her watch. ‘Won’t be until we get to Italy.’
Rose patted a soothing palm on the side of the gauzy material hoping it might placate the dog. But the growl deepened until Coco sounded more like a grumpy bear than her best friend’s bijou pet. She pulled her hand away in case she got nipped. It wouldn’t be the first time. Dog sitting should really come with danger money.
‘Are you the maid-of-honour-to-be?’ A deep and decidedly sexy voice suddenly asked, making Rose flinch in surprise. She glanced up and felt something inside her chest perform a series of energetic bench presses. The man looming over her was gorgeous – with capital O, M and multiple Gs. Rose swore she could hear one of the air hostesses fan herself, while a woman a few rows in front let out an audible gulp.
He had incredible eyes. Some might have called them dark brown, but Rose thought they probably deserved their own Pantone reference. Or a special name, like one of those extravagant paints from Farrow & Ball – Roasted Coffee Bean, Mahogany or maybe even Bated Breath?
‘Rose?’ he repeated, looking a little confused. His flawless forehead wrinkled, drawing attention to tussled dirty blonde hair and a jawline that was so sharp he probably used it to slice vegetables. ‘Rose Loveheart, right?’
Rose frowned, surprised by her body’s visceral response – which for the first time in her life, she couldn’t seem to control. ‘Yes?’ she said and shifted again when she realised the sound had come out as more of a husky come hither than a confirmation.
‘I’m Ben Pearson, the best man. I heard you were beautiful.’ He grinned. ‘I love the suit, it’s very…cream.’ His eyes twinkled as if he’d just flicked on a switch and her stomach performed an unexpected happy dance. Rose swallowed, she had to be careful. She knew all about men like him, but she wasn’t about to let a pretty face get the better of her.
‘You’re late,’ she said, giving Ben her disappointed glare. The one she usually reserved for clients when they refused to talk or grew distracted during one of their therapy sessions.
‘I am.’ His smile deepened and a dimple winked in his right cheek. Someone – on the aisle behind them this time – let out a throaty groan. Wasn’t he going to apologise?
‘Sir, please can you take your seat?’ An air hostess appeared from nowhere and offered Ben a beaming smile.
He quickly scanned her name badge. ‘Of course, Mandy. How lovely to meet you, and may I say that blue uniform really brings out the colour in your cheeks.’ He grinned.
Mandy flushed. ‘Um…’ The air hostess looked flustered. ‘If you could.’ She pointed to the middle seat. ‘I’d appreciate it.’ The words came out breathy.
‘Oh, Mandy, I would, it’s just…’ Ben turned his hormone-stirring gaze back to Rose giving her a jolt. ‘I’m so sorry if it’s inconvenient, but would you mind very much if we swapped? It’s just, I don’t think my legs are going to fit.’
He gestured to the middle seat next to Rose and then looked down, and she found her eyes following his gaze to dark jeans that hugged long muscular calves and thighs. ‘Last time I tried to sit in the middle seat on a flight to Prague one of the crew practically had to rub me down with oil to get me out,’ he joked.
Mandy let out a raspy chuckle before muttering something about being more than happy to help.
‘Fine,’ Rose murmured. ‘But if I move, you’ll need to hold the dog.’ She offered Ben the carrier, and he took it withoutcommenting. Then she gathered up her mobile, laptop and the handbag she’d stashed underneath the seat in front and carefully shifted into the middle one. The gentleman already sitting in the spot beside the window suddenly snorted and slid sideways, pressing his shoulder heavily into hers as he began to snore.
Rose sat statue-still trying not to disturb him in case he woke and wanted to chat. As soon as some people discovered she was a therapist by trade, they tried to hog her attention for hours. Not that she minded usually, but she didn’t want anyone opening up with Ben next to her, listening.
‘Let me help.’ Mandy took Coco’s carrier as Ben started to sit.
‘Thanks, gorgeous,’ Ben murmured, making Mandy simper again. Rose watched as he tried to get comfortable. His legs were so long he had to fold them into the centre aisle. When Mandy gave him back the dog, he winked and peered through the mesh.
‘Cute,’ Ben said as Coco shuffled closer to the opening so she could get a better look. ‘Yours?’
Rose shook her head. ‘Nope. She belongs to the bride-to-be. She’s going to be the ring bearer – if she doesn’t eat the rings first.’
Ben absorbed that information and clearly decided not to run with it. ‘What’s her name?’
‘You can call her Coco. I call hertheDemon from Hell,’ Rose said sweetly, waiting for the shih tzu to bark, growl, or twist her claws in the net in an attempt to scratch Ben’s striking face.
‘Why?’ he asked, sounding surprised.
