Page 44 of Now and Forever
Around her the plane jolted and Golden stirred. Turning over, she blinked in a tired daze at the ceiling. She had actually fallen asleep. Turning her head, her heart jumped at the figure in the chair across the dark room. With only the dim cabin lights from the floor as any source of light, Grayson sat draped in shadows.
As if watching her and waiting, he smiled softly at her as she slowly sat up in bed.
"We just landed," he told her.
Looking at her watch and out the dark window, Golden frowned in confusion. "What time is it?"
"It's a little after two in the morning." Standing, Grayson went to the closet and pulled out a garment bag. "I had Omar pack an extra suitcase for you with additional winter clothes and he set this one aside for you to wear upon arrival."
Taking the bag from him, Golden avoided his gaze, her stomach doing flips. She was so confused and excited about everything that happened she couldn't bear to look at him just yet. Nodding, she clutched the bag to her chest and went to the bathroom to change.
Wearing a pair of fleece-lined jeans that felt like melted butter against her skin, a cable-knit sweater, a new oatmeal-colored jacket, and a pink knitted cap, she felt warm and cute. Emerging from the bathroom, she found Grayson talking to the pilot near the open exit door also dressed in warmer clothes as icy wind whipped around him inside.
Seeing her, Grayson turned from the pilot and looked at her with open appreciation that made the butterflies in her stomach go crazy. Things were finally changing between them and changing fast. As if the final door had been flung open and Grayson was marching purposely through it dragging her along with him.
"You ready?" he asked.
"Umm," Golden thought of her abandoned laptop in the conference room.
Reading her mind Grayson spoke and held out a hand. "I packed your laptop away, and your luggage is already in the helicopter."
Looking at his hand and back to him, Golden smiled and took his hand, relishing the feel of his warm fingers closing over hers. "Then yes, I suppose that's everything."
They were descending the short stairs of the jet when her brain finally pulled itself out of the pink haze of infatuation to catch up to his words.
"Wait, helicopter?!" she paused at the bottom of the stairs, staring in shock at the huge black helicopter in the distance.
Grayson looked back at her and quirked an eyebrow. "You didn't think we were going to drive through the snow at three in the morning down narrow two-lane French country roads, did you?" he asked, reaching for her hat and tugging it down further around her ears.
The wind was biting and there were flurries in the air. It was amazing what a ten-hour plane ride could do. In Texas it was hot, but here it was snowing—heavily.
Nodding, she let him guide her to the helicopter where they quickly met and greeted the pilots of the massive vehicle. Stepping inside, Grayson was the one who got her strapped in. His hands were quick and efficient as he pulled the harness from over her head and down. Only once did he pause and look meaningfully at her, his eyes burning like coals in the dark space, his hand hovering right above her stomach. It took a full second for her brain to realize what he wanted. Biting her lip, Golden slowly raised her arms and let him snap the belt around her before slipping a pair of headphones over her ears.
The pilot's voice came over the intercom and into her ear in French. Sitting back in his own seat, Grayson slipped on the headphones and spoke into the mic. His French rolled off the tongue and Golden stared up at him in awe. She always forgotthat the Rosebanks could speak French. It was a requirement; all the Rosebank children had to speak it. Of course, Gaige had used the skill countless times to impress girls back in school.
Within a few minutes, they were lifting into the air. And it was at this moment, Golden quickly learned there was a difference between a plane ride and a helicopter ride. While traveling in a plane everything was surreal and smooth, the helicopter—not so much. It was jerky and visceral and she was not a fan.
Hesitantly she peeked out the window to her left. There was nothing but darkness and the hazy white view of the snow-covered landscape below. A half hour into their journey the soft snow hurtling past their windows became a relentless blur, making it hard to see anything at all. Grasping her harness, she stole a glance at Grayson. The hardness in his expression, coupled with the subtle tick in his jaw, made it clear he was upset. She could see his mouth moving and realized he was speaking into the mic as he looked toward the pilots. Glancing up front, Golden realized they were talking, too. Did they mute her headphones? Worried, she looked down at her lap, resisting the urge to look out at the blizzard.
Grayson's hand appeared on her knee and gave her a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. We're going to land in Chamonix."
Golden just nodded. All she could think about was all the helicopter crashes she had ever seen on social media and in movies playing in her head like a torturous reel.
Putting his arm over her shoulders, Grayson pressed her to his side and continued to talk to the pilots off and on until soon they were coming to a shaky landing. Never in her life had she felt more relieved to be back on the ground, even if it was in the middle of a blizzard that made the helicopter creak and groan as the wind rammed against it.
They waited in the helicopter for another thirty minutes. Golden had no real choice but to sit and listen as all three men spoke in French on their phones. Soon a pair of headlights shone through the dark and pulled up next to the helicopter. Within minutes Grayson had her unbuckled and out of the helicopter and into the waiting SUV. Once again, she was waiting in silence. Bundled up in the SUV, she watched from the back seat as Grayson helped the driver load their bags into the car.
Finally, they both got inside. The driver glanced at her through the rearview mirror with a friendly smile. "Bon soir," he greeted in a heavy accent. "My name is Maurice and I will take you both to my chalet."
For the rest of the way through the narrow winding roads and into the quiet little town Maurice chatted happily to them. He was so bubbly Golden had to remind herself it was almost four in the morning. Where had Grayson found this man so quickly? Even as they pulled toward a large house on a narrow private drive, the only house she had seen thus far with light in its windows, Maurice was still explaining all the things to see in his village.
"And tomorrow, when you are both rested, you might want to see Isabella at the café. There, you will find the second-best breakfast in town. Second to mine, of course," he added with a laugh before jumping out of the car.
Alone Grayson turned to her with an apologetic smirk. "He was the only place that answered their phone," he murmured.
Golden barely had time to hide a laugh before Maurice flung open her door and reached for her hand. Aw, it all made sense, she thought. Maurice had no doubt answered his phone earlier to a very perturbed Grayson Rosebank throwing anobscene amount of money to the man for his inconvenience and subsequent hospitality.
Taking her by the hand, Grayson led her through the snow and into the large two-story wood house. Warm delicious-smelling air surrounded them at once as they stopped at the entrance. Maurice explained his wife was in the kitchen making them some dinner and once it was done, they would bring it up to the second floor.
