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Luca comes to stand beside me, taking my hand and bringing the pads of my fingers to his lips. “We’re looking forward to it. Right, Tarzan?”
“Yes!”
The front door opens, and I immediately recognize one of Dr. Weston’s security detail from last night. “Luca, one of my guys has the things you wanted from your shop.”
“Thank you.” He gives my hand a squeeze before walking over to collect the cardboard box, just as the bodyguard gives Dr. Weston a curt nod before reaching for a few suitcases lined up in the foyer.
“That’s our cue,” the handsome doctor announces. “Me and my girls will be in the first car, and you guys will be with Tucker in the next. We’ll see you at the jet.” He and his family walk out as if it is no big deal that we’re about to get on a private jetto Jamaica. And I guess for him, maybe it isn’t. But this is life changing for us. Literally.
As we pull into the airport, the SUVs weave around past the main terminal until we reach the location of Dr. Weston’s private jet. The kids all clamor to peer out of the windows. It’s truly magnificent. My children have only been on a plane twice. Once as we nervously moved across the country in order to live with their father, and completely in shock as we returned home. Everything about this experience is on a completely different scale.
We climb out of the vehicle, Myla holding steady to Truitt, as Poppy rushes over to us. She joins Tucker at the trunk of the SUV as he pulls out brand new suitcases for the kids. One is decorated with Mickey Mouse, one has butterflies all over it, and the third has Simba from The Lion King.
“How on earth did you find these on such short notice?”
“Money talks.” She giggles. “Besides, I had fun doing it. I hope they like them.
My eyes flick over to the kids who are grinning ear to ear before turning back to Poppy. “Thank you.” I pull her in for a hug. “For everything.”
“There are some fun things inside for all of you. Well, except Luca. I let Gianni order his things. They’ll be waiting for him at the resort.” She laughs.
I take Truitt from Myla so they can follow Lauren and Lilly to the jet stairs.
Luca wraps his arm around my waist. “I have our passports, Mrs. King.”
I stop mid-step. “Who?”
He chuckles. “It’s just precautionary. We can still use our names once we reach the resort for a bit longer. Until we get established with school and work, anyway.”
“Mrs.? Isn’t that being a bit presumptuous,Mr. King?”
“No.”
I lift my brow in response, and he pulls me in closer. “I told you. I protect what’s mine.” He winks.
My cheeks heat.
“And when I can’t, hopefully he’ll do.” Confused, I watch as he lifts his arms above my head, until I feel something cool hit my overheated skin. Before I can peer down at it, Truitt has grasped the St. Michael’s chain, the pendant swinging in the sunlight.
“Luca, is this yours?”
“No. It was a birthday gift. I didn’t get the chance to give it to you.”
My face falls at the memory of yanking his from around my neck and depositing it in the bag of items I gave away. “Luca, I?—”
“It’s okay. I’d much rather see it on you.” He pries it free from Truitt’s grip and slides his hand down the chain to where it rests between my breasts. I instantly feel it. That familiar charge between us.
The thought of spending the rest of my days with this man makes me swoon.
“Last chance,” he says as we reach the bottom of the stairs. “Any second thoughts?”
“No. Take me to paradise, Mr. King.”
There’s nowhere I’d rather be.
EPILOGUE
Luca
