With only a fewmore days until the end of Connor’s time in the program, we eventually leave our little slice of paradise andtravel to the airport. A matte black private plane waits on the tarmac.
“Is this yours?” I ask, wide-eyed.
“No. You can thank Declan for the lift. He’s a flashy kind of guy when it comes to his wealth.”
“And you aren’t?”
“I have substantial savings, a condo in Boston and LA, but other than that, I invest and support wolf rescues and habitats.”
Cream-colored padding and gold details line the interior of the jet. The seats are leather and are what I imagine it would be like to sit on a cloud.
“Before we take off, would you like anything to drink?” asks a woman with red hair, wearing a cream-colored suit, and a slim green scarf around her neck.
“I’ll have water, please.”
“For you, sir?” she asks Connor.
“Same.” He turns back to me. “We fly in style, yet we drink water.” He chuckles.
“Where are we going? You remember I can’t return to Concordia.”
He winks. “It’s a surprise.”
We watch a movie, but I can’t stop thinking about the finances at Blancbourg. Connor dozes beside me. I admire his sloping nose, the line of his jaw, and the lips that have kissed me so many times.
He rouses and stretches his arms overhead. I grin at the sight of the cut cords of muscles that run from his triceps down to his forearms. My heart, steady now, beats out a differentthump, bumpthan it did before the procedure.
“Are we almost there?”
“How do you sayalmostin French?”
I tell him and he repeats it.
A few minutes later, as the plane starts to descend, I ask, “Why did you ask how to say almost in French?”
“Welcome home,” he says, pointing out the window.
“Home?” Flying in and out of Concordia isn’t as common as traveling by rail, but we’re in a private plane. However, the scenery is different even in the dark, and I can only imagine the officials will turn me away.
“Connor, where are we?” I ask.
“Orleans.”
“New Orleans?”
“No, the airstrip in Orleans, France.”
I’m not sure I heard him right. “France?”
As the plane lowers, there is no mistaking the iconic buildings, churches, and museums.
I gasp. “What are we doing here?”
“You missed dancing and your family. I want to take you home. And we couldn’t get clearance on short order to land in Paris, which is technically our first stop. So we’re nearby. You can show me the city, then we’ll head to Paris, then home.”
I wrap my arms around him because it’s unbelievably thoughtful, but the truth is, I feel torn. I had to fight my way out of the country because my mother didn’t want me to leave. How will she receive me upon my return? With open arms or cold shoulders?
A car brings us to the Four Seasons hotel, where we’ll stay for a couple of nights before traveling to Paris and then to the small town in the Loire Valley where I grew up.
