‘We’re on our way, Mr Ryans. We’re coming past Blackwall station now.’
‘Why are you late? Is there traffic?’
‘No, sir. Miss… er… We had a delay before we left the city.’
‘Make time.’
And then he’s gone but my stomach is still turning like a seashell wind chime in a gale.
We finally pull onto the airport tarmac and Amanda bursts from the car before Scott can make it to the passenger door. Williams gestures for me to go next.
There he is. At the door of the GJR jet. Beige chinos hugging firm thighs, crisp white shirt unbuttoned by two. And when he sees me, his mouth twists into a knicker-melting smile.
Lord have mercy because I know I’m going to sin.
Amanda bounces up the steps, plants a fleeting and less than heartfelt kiss on Gregory’s cheek, then runs inside the plane. Though they still don’t see eye to eye, I’m sure the jet is easing her pain.
Scott hands over control of the luggage to a member of the jet crew, the same crew I met on our amazing night at the opera in Rome. I force from my mind thoughts of the day that followed, the pain of discovering Gregory’s betrayal in sending me away.
Williams shakes Gregory’s hand and says something that makes them both laugh. Then, unusually, the pair share what can only be described as a man hug – shoulders barging, fists thumping backs.
Meanwhile, my synapses have forgot how to send basic commands to my limbs.
‘Have a nice holiday, Miss Heath,’ Scott says, coming back to the limousine.
I should probably check for drool. ‘Thanks, Scott.’
The engines roar to life, dragging my attention to the jet then back to the man who owns it, as he mouths, ‘Get here.’
And when I reach him, all I can manage is, ‘Hi.’
‘Hi.’
I gaze into his eyes, tiredness heightening my hormones that are already raging. He presses his lips to my brow, then rests them on the soft tip of my nose. I breathe in his warm, familiar scent, then he lifts my chin with his index finger and places his lips on mine. I mould to the shape of his body as he pulls me into him, and though my heart is racing, I melt into his kiss.
‘Get a room!’ Amanda chimes.
Gregory steps back and drops his forehead to mine, muttering, ‘We could have another murder charge on our hands if I have to spend two weeks in that woman’s company.’
‘Stow your Glock for a fortnight, Ryans.’
As soon as the captain announces we’re at cruising altitude, we unfasten our seatbelts and the others make their way to three tall stools that are rooted to the floor around a small bar.
‘Virgin Mary, sir?’ the steward asks Gregory.
‘Actually, Michael, let’s make an exception to the rule. Somewhere in the world, it’s after lunch already.’
‘Bloody Mary, sir?’
‘Sounds good.’ Then he turns to me. ‘Scarlett, Bloody Mary?’
‘Not for me, thank you. I’m going to change into something more comfortable and I’m sorry to be a pooper but I really need to take a nap.’
‘Noooo! Scarlett, it’s holidaaaay tiiiime! These next two weeks, I task you to drink whenever I can’t.’ Amanda squees whilst patting her rounding tummy fondly.
‘Amanda, if we’re all going to get through this trip in harmony, you need to calm down,’ I tell her.
‘I’m just trying to make the most of my last child-free holiday.’
