Page 4 of A Promise For Tomorrow

“I’m going to go pack.”

My knee bouncesup and down as I wait for my flight in the small waiting area of the private airfield. Against her better judgment, Lexi and Con took their original flights earlier this morning. She wanted to come with me to the hospital, but I told her they were strict on having family only in the waiting room. Plus, the two of them should be able to enjoy the evening that was planned for them. She finally agreed and demanded that if I needed her at any moment, to call her.

A staff member places a hand on my shoulder, alerting methat my flight is ready to board. They silently direct me, walking a short distance towards the airstairs of Diego’s jet.

“Welcome back, Mrs. De La Cruz.” Amy, the flight attendant with a warm smile greets me at the top. She reaches out and collects my overnight bag slung over my shoulder. I try my best to return the smile but my married name shocked the shit out of me, temporarily paralyzing my facial features.

On bated breath, I enter the cabin and let out a sigh of relief, noticing it’s empty.

The leather groans as I plop my ass into a seat and plug my headphones into my phone. I prop my elbows on the table in front of me and scroll my Kindle app for a good book to read. Amy makes her way towards me, realizing I am about to check out. At the same time, the engines fire up, slightly rumbling the space.

“Can I grab you anything to eat or drink before we take off, Mrs. De La Cruz?”

My cheeks heat as I shake my head to decline. “You don’t need to call me Mrs. De La Cruz. Maddy is fine.”

“Damn,Mariposita.I am shocked you didn’t want a coffee from your favorite machine.”

Amy smiles that warm smile again at me before shifting her gaze toThe Bone Breakerbehind me. Hints of coconut, salt, and mint caress my sense of smell as he approaches. Apparently, they are a deadly combination of aphrodisiacs because my heart beats wildly in my chest.

“Mr. De La Cruz, can I get you a coffee before we take off?” the flight attendant asks him. I can just barely register what she’s saying over my pulse whooshing in my ears.

“Not right now. Thank you, Amy. I’m sure mid-flight my wife will change her mind.” He stifles a laugh before taking a seat directly across from me.

My tongue is lead in my mouth. There is so much that sitsbetween us. So many unspoken words. Yet, neither of us says a single thing as the jet takes off on the runway.

We just stare.

Unabashedly taking each other in.

He looks good.Okay, he looks fucking delicious.Just the same if not more muscular and toned than when I last saw him. Certainly too good to be sitting in front of me right now with that cocky smirk on his face.

The man is supposed to bedead.And here he sits, casually resting against his seat, exposing his identity—for me.

Finding the courage to speak first, I lean over the table and whisper, “You shouldn’t have taken the risk of being exposed like this for me.”

“I woulddiefor you,” he rasps, laughing at his own joke.Very funny.

He leans in closer and rests his elbows on the table between us before extending a hand and taking mine captive. Diego strokes his thumb over the empty space where my wedding rings once sat.

I try everything in my power not to look into his eyes. If I do, I’ll surely break. I am too vulnerable tonight to fend him off. Traitorously, my eyes glide up from his hand on mine to his broad chest before climbing higher. They trace and reacquaint themselves with the shape of his smooth lips, then follow the curve of his cupid’s bow to the bridge of his sturdy nose. Slowly, they glide up until two piercing blue eyes stare right back at me.

And then I’m drowning.

“I missed you,” he whispers. Gone is the sarcastic bravado nature I am used to. Desire and longing replace it, brewing like a storm beneath those eyes.

Tears fill my own to the brim, threatening to cascade down my face in rivers. I take a steadying breath through my nose, attempting to keep them at bay.

Diego is out of his seat in a second, nudging me aside to sitand then pulling me into him. He cradles my head against his warm chest. It’s then that I allow the tears to fall.

And fall.

And fall some more.

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the soothing sensation of his fingers massaging my scalp was like a lullaby. The safety of his arms and the pure comfort of him had my eyes fluttering closed.

His chin remained resting on the top of my head. Only when his lips brush against my temple do my eyes pop open.

“You know the surgeon doing your father’s surgery is the same cardiothoracic surgeon who helped me? Dr. Angosta. Trust that if that man can kill me and bring me back, he’ll take great care of your dad.”

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