Page 227 of Modern Romance March 2025 (5-8)

“Before you even get the deal?”

Desmond shrugged, but there was a gleam in his eye that she was beginning to recognize. “I was chasing a deal once to market private cabanas. I built an entire villa from the ground up to show the client. He ended up going with someone else, but he was so impressed he bought the thing for himself. Come on.”

Despite her discomfort, Val was quite impressed by what she saw; it was impossible not to be. The inside of the jet was modeled, Desmond explained, after the first-class cabin he planned for GoldenEye.

“GoldenEye?”

“It’s only a working title, don’t worry,” he said with a laugh. “My team will come up with something more suitable by the launch. I was hoping to get Hind involved in naming it, but she had about as much interest in the project as I have in her social media reels. Come, I’ll give you a tour.”

A smiling flight attendant dressed in an impeccably tailored suit dress rendered in those same shades of pale blue and gold-tinged ivory accepted the bouquet from Val with a smile. Desmond pointed out the details: real gold watch and enormous sixties-style pearl stud earrings.

“They’re locally caught, and of the highest quality,” he explained. “Hijabi flight attendants have a brooch they’ll use to fasten theirshaylasthat are the same style. The fabric was also sourced locally from a family of textile artists from India who’ve been here for generations.”

“It’s impeccable,” Val said, impressed.

“There’s gold silk thread woven into the fabric so it catches the light. All the jewelry is locally made as well, and the cabin…”

The cabin wasbreathtaking. Val had flown private on occasion with Hind, of course, but the discreet taste and modernity of the cabin was a stark contrast to the Sheikh’s eighties-style opulence. The hardware was all gold-tinged cream; the seats were upholstered in pale blue; the paneling was Lebanese cedar, glass-smooth, polished and sealed to a soft glow; and the floors featured handwoven carpets crafted by local artisans.

Desmond and Val sat in adjoining chairs that were so luxurious that Val felt as if every muscle in her body was relaxing one by one. When she asked Desmond what it was, he grinned.

“Just call it space-age memory foam.”

A flight attendant surfaced, her finery covered completely by a filmy apron with long sleeves. She offered Val an exquisitely plated amuse-bouche: locally sourced caviar perched atop a delicate blini, perfectly crisped with saffron round the edges with a drizzle of saffron-infused crème fraîche and a dusting of gold leaf to finish off the bite.

After his initial bursts of enthusiasm, Desmond fell into a silence that felt oddly moody. Under the guise of enjoying the selections brought from the caviar and oyster bar, Val watched him carefully. He began to tap his left thumb on his armrest in a tic she had come to recognize. He answered every question she asked of him quickly and politely, but he was clearly distracted. Before takeoff he asked the flight attendant to bring him the safety checks and logs and everyone sat in silence for twenty-five minutes while he looked them over.

Val didn’t mention it; it was understandable, she thought with a stab of sympathy, for someone who’d lost his father in a plane crash.

“Thinking about work?” she ventured after they’d taxied and taken off in silence, and the crew had disappeared.

“What? Oh, yes,” he said briefly. It was the first time he’d been this quiet all week.

Val looked out of the window, but when she turned back to him she was surprised to find his eyes fixed on her face.

“Sorry if I’m being terrible company,” he said abruptly. His voice was clipped but apologetic. “Just shifting into work mode, I think.”

She nodded. Marriage to an incredibly moody person—and one with an awful temper, to boot—had schooled her well in dealing with men and their moods. Silence paired with wide-eyed attention—but not too wide-eyed—was the best course of action.

She hated that she remembered this, and she hated that Desmond’s moodiness had caused her body to tense with that memory.

But Desmondwasn’tMalik. He was nothing like Malik, and he’d proven that over and over. But this was a good reminder that even so, she still had a lot of healing to do.

And for once, it actually seemed possible.

Desmond sat up, startling her back into the present. “Damn it. I almost forgot.” He hit the call button, finally looking a bit more animated. The flight attendant appeared so silently that Val jumped, then flushed. They hadn’t been doing more than talk, she reminded herself, and were supposed to be a married couple besides, but she wasn’t used to feeling so…good.

“The trays,” he said.

“Yes, sir.” The woman first performed some complicated operation that transformed the space in front of them into a proper dining table, complete with white linen with sharp corners.

“I’m not hungry yet,” Val protested.

“It’s not food, although we’ve got a lobster thermidor back there that will surely change your mind. Ah, perfect, thank you,” he said, as the flight attendant appeared with two companions. Each of them placed a tray before her. One was lined with a deep emerald green, one ruby red and the third…

“Tiffany blue,” Desmond confirmed, his eyes beginning to sparkle just a bit. “Pick a ring. I’ve got one that I think will look amazing on you, but since this isn’t quite a traditional proposal, you might as well have full choice…”

“I don’t need a ring!” Val drew back in horror. There had to be millions of pounds’ worth of diamonds and gemstones sparkling in front of her, catching the very flattering lighting on the interior of the plane.

---