Three days ago, I made an offhand comment about never having left the country. Now I’m on Ronan’s Gulfstream, surrounded by cream leather seats that cost more than my apartment, sipping champagne that probably costs more than my car.
Ronan sits across from me, absorbed in something on his laptop. The sunlight catches his profile, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, softened only slightly by his perpetual stubble. He looks completely at home here—another sleek, expensive thing that belongs in the sky.
I shift in my seat, still not used to the cloud-like softness. “Is it okay if I call the hospital to check on Mom?”
He glances up. “Of course, sweetheart. Use the phone by your seat.”
I find the built-in phone and dial the hospital’s number with shaking fingers. Mom looked so happy this morning when we dropped her off and insisted we go on our trip.
The receptionist answers on the third ring.
“Hi, I’m calling about Elena Silva? She was admitted back this morning.”
A pause. “Let me check our system. I’m sorry, we don’t have a patient by that name.”
I hang up and look at Ronan, panic clawing up my throat. “She’s not there. They have no record of her.” My vision blurs. “What if something happened? What if she?—”
“Rayne.” Ronan closes his laptop, his voice steady. “Your mother is fine.”
“How do you know? They said?—”
“She’s not at County anymore. I told the medical director to transfer her to the City Medical Center as soon as there’s vacancy. I had no idea he managed it so soon.”
I blink. “What?”
“CMC has the best cardiology department in the state. I arranged for her to be under Dr. Gabriel Ellis’ care. He’s the head of the department.”
My brain struggles to catch up. “But…”
“It’s handled. Everything—the transfer, the specialists, the treatment—it’s all taken care of.”
“You can’t just—” I stop, because obviously he can. And he did. “Ronan, that’s ... that must be tens of thousands of dollars.”
He shrugs. “She’ll get the best care there. And you won’t have to worry about bills anymore.”
The weight of what he’s done crashes over me. All those nights I stayed awake, calculating how many extra shifts I’d need to cover the next treatment. All the calls from collection agencies. The second mortgage on my childhood home. The loan from Lucian King that started this whole mess.
Gone. Erased with a phone call.
“I never wanted you to think—” My voice breaks. Tears blur my vision, hot and sudden. “That was always my biggest fear—that you’d think I was just using you. That I didn’t love you for who you…”
I’m trembling now, the champagne glass wobbling dangerously in my hand. Ronan takes it from me, setting it aside.
“So you love me?” His voice is low, almost smug, with that hint of command that makes my insides turn to liquid.
I freeze, the words I just blurted out catching up to me. Did I just—? Did I say?—?
“I—” The words stick in my throat. “What?”
He moves to the seat beside me, the leather creaking under his weight. His hand cups my jaw, tilting my face toward his. “Say it again, Rayne.”
His eyes are dark, demanding. There’s no escape, not thirty thousand feet in the air, not from this man who sees through every defense I’ve built.
“I love you.” The confession tears out of me, raw and honest. “I love you, and it terrifies me.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve never needed anyone before. I’ve always handled everything myself. But you … you make me want things I never thought I could have.”
