Page 18 of Forbidden Fruit

"Sleep well?" I ask, trying again for conversation.

He shrugs. "Not really. Mark's bachelor party ran late."

"Mark? Your college roommate?"

"Yeah." He takes another gulp of his drink. "Last-minute thing."

That explains the canceled dinner and the hangover attitude. I try not to feel hurt that Jack would prioritize a last-minute bachelor party over our last evening together before our trip.

The engines start with a gentle hum, and the flight attendant asks us to buckle up for takeoff. As we taxi down the runway, I catch Clive watching me over the top of his tablet. Our eyes meet for a brief moment before he looks away, but something in his gaze warms my cheeks.

Once airborne, Kay sits beside me, her expensive floral perfume enveloping us both. "So, Rebecca, Jack tells me you've been busy with wedding season."

"It's been non-stop," I nod. "Yesterday was my fourteenth wedding since May."

"Always the planner, never the bride?" She says it with a smile, but there's an edge to her words that makes me wince internally.

"For now," I reply, keeping my tone light. "Though I've picked up some excellent ideas for when the time comes."

Kay's eyes flicker toward Jack, who's now scrolling through his phone, oblivious to our conversation. "I'm sure you have."

The flight attendant appears again. "Breakfast will be served shortly. We have a frittata with fresh fruit or smoked salmon with bagels."

Before I can answer, Clive's deep voice cuts in from across the cabin. "Rebecca is allergic to salmon. I've arranged for the chef to prepare an alternative."

"The frittata sounds perfect, thank you," I say, shooting a grateful smile toward Clive. He nods once, then returns to his tablet.

Jack looks up, frowning. "Since when are you allergic to salmon?"

"Since birth," I reply, trying to keep the hurt from my voice. "I've told you several times."

He waves a dismissive hand, and I pretend not to care.

"First time on a private jet?" Clive stands beside me, one hand braced against the overhead compartment. Up close, his presence is even more imposing than I remembered—tall and solid, with those startlingly blue eyes that seem to see right through me.

"Is it that obvious?" I ask, feeling suddenly self-conscious.

His mouth curves into a slight smile. "You have that look of wonder most people lose after their twentieth flight."

"I hope that never happens to me," I admit. "Losing the wonder, I mean."

Something flickers across his face—approval, maybe?—before he nods. "The view's better from the left side if you're interested. We'll be flying over the coast soon."

"Thanks for the tip."

He hesitates longer, wanting to say something else, then returns to his seat. I watch him go, wondering what it must be like to own a plane like this, command a global empire, and move through the world with such easy confidence.

Jack doesn't notice our exchange, too busy texting someone with rapid-fire thumbs. Kay, however, slides into the seat across from me with knowing eyes.

"He's much more pleasant now that we're divorced," she says in a stage whisper, nodding toward Clive. "Marriage made him insufferable."

I laugh awkwardly, unsure how to respond. "The plane is amazing."

"One of three," she says with practiced casualness. "The others are larger, but this one's my favorite. More intimate." She leans closer. "So, are you excited about this weekend?"

"Very," I say, unable to keep the enthusiasm from my voice. "The villa looks incredible from the photos."

"Oh, it is. But I meant about..." She glances meaningfully at Jack, then back at me, raising her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

---