Page 73 of Wanting Mr Black

Lucy and Big Steve are sitting in the front two seats, holding hands, laughing, absorbed with one another. She looks up as we arrive.

“I’m extremely impressed with the jet, Mr Black. You’ll have to get used to travelling in style, Soph.”

Lucy hasn’t stopped reminding me how loaded Art is since I broke the news of our engagement to her. I’m relieved I haven’t confided in her about the forgotten-pills debacle because that would blow her mind, and I’d never hear the end of it.

“I’m not Mrs Black quite yet, Luce,” I remind her.

Art takes my hand. “Someday soon.”

I go to take a seat behind Lucy, but he tugs me back.

“Not here. We’re at the back.”

Big Steve grins. “You’re in the VIP suite. We’re in cattle class.”

I stare around at the plush surroundings. If this is cattle class, then I’m not sure what to expect in the VIP suite.

Art ignores Big Steve’s quip. “This way, Sophie. We need to take off soon.”

I follow him farther down the plane and through a high-glossed oak veneer door. Two cream leather sofas sit facing one another with a coffee table in between. Behind them, a couple of two-seater leather chairs are by the window. The same swish feel carries on throughout, and it screams money.

Art leads us to the two-seater chairs and settles down, and I sit beside him.

He clicks his seat belt and then fastens mine for me. “It’s just until after we take off.”

“I could have done it.” I laugh.

“I know. I’m just making sure.” He leans forward and kisses me on the forehead. “You’re the most precious thing in the world to me, and I want to make sure you’re safe.”

His words warm my heart, and I take his hand, entwining my fingers through his.

“If you’re here, then I’m safe.”

He smiles. “Are you ready to go home?”

I pull a face and stare out of the window at the runway as the plane moves forwards. Taking us back to reality. And wedding planning. Except this time, I’ll be doing it for myself. “No. I want to stay here forever, with you.”

His phone begins to ring, and he pulls it from his pocket, immediately cancelling the call with a frown.

My curiosity gets the better of me. “Who was that?”

“Work,” he replies quickly. “Like you, I’m not quite ready to return to reality yet.”

The noise from the engines grows louder, and the runway falls away, disappearing from view as we begin our ascent into the sky. Within a couple of minutes, we’re flying above the clouds, and the seat-belt sign turns off.

Art scoops me up into his arms and pulls me onto his lap. I squeal in surprise but submit immediately as he cradles me against his chest. Why would I want to fight being here?

“I can’t wait to make you Mrs Black.”

“I can’t believe I’m leaving Ibiza, engaged.” And potentially pregnant, but I decide not to verbalise that.

“I suppose you hated me when you arrived?” There’s a coolness to his tone, which suggests he’s dreading my answer.

I tilt my face upwards to find pained eyes staring down at me. “I didn’t hate you. I don’t think it’s possible for me to ever hate you. I was angry.”

He closes a hand around my cheek and looks into my eyes. “I swear, you know all there is to know about my past, Sophie. There are no more skeletons in my closet.”

I feel a pang of guilt. I need to tell him about Theo. I’m acutely aware that I’m a big bloody hypocrite now, and it doesn’t sit well with me at all.

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