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The car was turning into the airport precinct, moving towards a security gate further along from Arrivals and Departures. The gate opened and they drove slowly through. Connie could see on the Tarmac, well away from the commercial flight area, a small jet parked up. Her sense of being in a dream increased.
It did so even more as she sat herself down in a capacious leather seat—one of only a handful on board the plane. A smiling stewardess paid her some brief attention, but the bulk of it was targeted at Dante. Connie was hardly surprised. She was the kind of person people didn’t notice. Dante was exactly the opposite.
He took the seat just across the aisle from her.
‘Forgive me, but I will need to work during the flight,’ he said to her, fastening his seat belt, and opening his briefcase. ‘With our marriage I finally have clearance to make the executive decisions about Cavelli Finance that have become pressing since my grandfather died. I will be at full stretch these coming months, and I must make a start now.’
He gave her a brief smile, and soon became immersed in his work.
The stewardess was closing the plane’s door, and Connie could hear the engine starting up. She sat back, a sudden feeling of excitement filling her. To be flying at all, let alone in a private jet, was a thrill.
I haven’t been abroad for ages and ages...
A student jaunt—that must have been the last time. To Corfu, to celebrate her finals being over. Her face shadowed. Holidays, travel—any kind of life for herself, really—had disappeared as her grandmother’s needs had increased. She’d put her life on hold.
Well, for now—just for now—she would enjoy this adventure...
The plane was taxiing, its engine note increasing, and the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, informing them that they were joining the main runway. Connie peered out of her porthole, eager for take-off. It would be so exciting to feel the powerful engine lifting them skywards.
As they got their clearance, and the jet started to accelerate, she clutched the arms of her chair.
‘Are you nervous?’ Dante’s voice was concerned as he glanced at her.
She shook head. ‘No, it’s brilliant!’ Her eyes were shining, expression animated.
For a second—just a second—she seemed to feel Dante’s gaze still on her, as if something had surprised him, but then the whoosh that came as the plane parted company with the earth was echoed in her gasp.
‘Wow, you really feel it in a small plane like this!’ she exclaimed.
‘You do indeed,’ Dante said dryly.
He seemed unaffected by the experience, and Connie realised this was probably his usual way of travelling. It brought home to her with a jolt that, except for the chauffeured car collecting her that morning, this was the first experience she’d got of just how very wealthy he was.
Thanks to me marrying him.
It was a thought she knew she needed to stay conscious of. She might be the very last female on earth that a man like Dante Cavelli wouldeverhave actually chosen to marry out of personal preference, but for all that she was doing him just as big a favour as he was doing her.
I need to remember that whenever I start to feel overwhelmed by this whole thing!
Her eyes went to him. His laptop was open and his focus was on the screen. For all her determination to ignore the disparity between them, she felt something break through that dogged resolve. Something that welled up from the depths. That swept through her like a warm, liquid tide of emotion, taking her over...
How gorgeous he is! How incredibly handsome! I could never be tired of looking at him...
She felt the little plane levelling off, reaching its cruising altitude. The stewardess was walking towards them from her jump seat near the cockpit.
She smiled, but only at Dante. ‘Do please let me know when you would like me to serve lunch, Signor Cavelli. Would you like an aperitiffirst?’
Dante looked up, and then immediately glanced across at Connie. ‘Aperitif?’ he asked.
‘Um...’ said Connie, feeling awkward suddenly...deflated.
That strange, elated emotion drained away abruptly. In its place, another one came. A sudden and instant dislike of the stewardess, who so obviously considered her plain and frumpy and unlovely, and therefore utterly unqualified to be travelling as a passenger with the divine SignorCavelli.
Her chin lifted, eyes sparking defiantly. ‘Champagne,’ she announced. ‘To celebrate.’
And there was a lot to celebrate.
Dante Cavelli was going to be very, very rich, thanks to her. And she, thanks to him, was going to keep her grandmother safe for the rest of her life.
