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He leaned in so thathis breath whistled in my ear. “Jessica, relax.” He patted my arm. “Sorry, but I need to do some work.”
I left him alone for the rest of the flight. Aside from a few bouts of turbulence, theride was uneventful. I was excited for the three-course meal, but frowned at the small pile of minuscule black balls with the tiniest spoon I ever saw. Next to it was a stack of crackers. I peered at the menu. Caviar.
This is supposed to be a delicacy? It tastes like fishy salt.
The next item was much better. Maine lobster and butternut squash sauce. I devoured the cheery, orange-red lobster and sauce, marveling how buttery it was. Mentally, I was taking notes for the soup kitchen. Getting approval for lobster would be next to impossible. I looked at the menu eagerly for the third course: Princess cake with navel orange marmalade. What the hell was a Princess cake? Was it blessed by an actual princess or something?
I had fun taking pictures of all the courses with my phone, scribbling down in my journal what each one tasted like. Luke barely touched his plates, occasionally looking over to see what I was doing, and perhaps wondering why I got so excited over food.
Now that my anxiety over flying was mostly over, my brain boiled over how I would eventually be confronted with Luke’s friends and family. He counted on me to make this work, and to convince his father that this romance was real. Arush of warmth filled my cheeks as Luke looked up from his laptop and grinned. I couldn’t stop thinking about how he held me in his arms, his eager mouth and hard body. When he smiled at me, my heartbeat galloped ahead.
It’s a bit too real.
I had to keep reminding myself to not get attached. When this was over, Luke and I would go our separate ways.
Get a grip.
Luke returned to sit beside me when we started to land. “Why?” I asked.
“Landings are worse.”
Sure enough, the horrible free-falling motion made my guts clench. I clutched Luke’s hand and squeezed when the plane dropped. He snorted with laughter whenever I let out a high-pitched squeal.
“I’m glad you find my fear so amusing. Didn’t you take an ethics class to become a proper gentleman?”
He tried to force his mouth into a neutral line, but failed. “No.”
I cringed as we plummeted what seemed to be a hundred more feet, bristling as Luke guffawed at my terror. As the plane made a right turn, London sprawled underneath us in a series of yellow lights.
I’m really here.
After we landed, a Rolls Royce whisked us off the airplane and dropped us at Heathrow’s main terminal. A gaggle of paparazzi stood in the lobby, elbowing each other as soon as they saw Luke. His guards fended them off, but this time the camera’s bright flashes exploded all around me. Clutching Luke’s arm, I walked out of Heathrow and inhaled my first breath of London.
I noticed the differences right away: the tiny cars, the black Hackney taxis, and a barrage of languages and English accents.
Once the paparazzi cleared, we entered into our car and sped toward our hotel. Luke’s hotel. We exited the car in a location that had an uncanny resemblance to New York City’s Times Square. I stared at the screen that wrapped around a building in the middle of two streets, flashing colorful advertisements as a slew of people jostled me down the street. Luke tugged my arm, and I looked up, staring at the giant letters over the hotel lit up like golden candles: PARDINI.
We entered it, the beige marble floors polished so well that I sawmy own reflection.
“Good evening, Mr. Pardini.”
The receptionists obviously knew him by name. Luke inclined his head and continued to the elevators. Oh,right.
He doesn’t need to check in. Duh.
I followed him into the elevator as the bellhop rolled our luggage inside.
The elevator stopped on the twelfth floor and opened directly into the suite. My jaw dropped as we walked inside. There was a fully stocked stainless steel kitchen, a spa and indoor pool, a gym, and everything you would ever need. The king sized bed stood on a dais surrounded by glass, which overlooked the whole city. It was incredible.
Luke tipped the bellhop, and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets with an air of uncertainty once we were alone.
“It’s a beautiful room, Luke. I can’t believe this.”
“I’m glad you like it.” He rubbed his neck and swept back his hair. “I’m pretty tired, so I think I’ll go to bed now. I’llsleep on a couch and you can have the bed.”
“No way,” I protested. “It’s your place. I’d feel guilty making you do that. I should get the couch.”
He smiled wryly and shook his head. “Yeah, that’s not happening.”
