Page 276 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“We’re going to Kola Kitanabu,” I answer.

My driver, Brent—hardly the old-money kind of name I was hoping for in a driver, but you work with what you can get—opens Grace’s door and she’s leaning into me.

“We can go somewhere closer if you like,” I tell her. “When I called and asked where you’d like to get some dinner, though, you said—”

“Surprise me,” she interrupts. “This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“Why’d you think I asked if you had a passport?” I respond.

Grace looks up at me, eyes gaping either from surprise or some deathly fear of poor Brent, who’s still standing there, holding his hand out for Grace to take.

“Your call,” I tell her.

She’s still staring at Brent like he’s an alien come to abduct her, but she says, “Tell me about it, where we’re going.”

It’s hard to contain my amusement when she realizes we’re not flying commercial.

Over the clouds now and somewhere over the vast, swallowing ocean, I don’t think Grace’s stopped looking out her window for longer than a couple of seconds. That only seems to happen when we hit some unexpected turbulence.

“Is this your first time on a plane?” I ask.

“I went to New Jersey once,” she says. “I don’t know. I was little, though.”

“Mind if I ask why the passport then?” I ask.

She looks over at me and, after a quick glance back to the window; she sits back in her chair. “I don’t know,” she says. “I guess I just never wanted to be one of those people who dies twenty miles from where they were born, you know?”

“Did you have a destination in mind?” I ask. “I’m still working on our second date, and I’m open to ideas.”

Her lower eyelids come up a little, and she peers at me, saying, “What makes you think there’s going to be a second date?”

When she lets herself relax, she’s a lot of fun to talk to, but I guess the suspiciousness is going to hang around a while. “Just thought I’d put it out there,” I tell her. “I suppose you can call it an airing of hope.”

Her eyes unclench a little, and she faces forward. “Ah,” she says. “Well, the plane’s nice and everything, but it does seem a bit wasteful just for the two of us to go out on a date.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“That’s a lot of jet fuel,” she says and starts shaking her head. “Look at me. Here I am riding on your plane, but is that going to stop me from chastising you for doing the same thing?”

“You care,” I say. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing. You’re right that you don’t have a leg to stand on here, but you know, it’s a nice thought.”

For the very first time, I think since she realized who I was when she started talking to me in her store, Grace seems to know that I’m joking. I don’t get a laugh out of her, but her face goes that same dark red it was when she came to on the floor. This time, though, she’s smiling.

“Maybe next time we can do a date without all the jet fuel?” she asks. “I’m not going to lie and say I’m not impressed, though,” she says, looking around the interior of the plane. “You seem like you’ve done all right for yourself.”

“I get by,” I smile. “We’re all paycheck to paycheck, though.”

“Yeah, but your paychecks are a little bigger, and if you’re going through the money that fast, you should probably have them turn the plane around,” she says. “It sounds like you can’t afford me.”

I’m not sure whether I’m coming or going with Grace most of the time, but she’s here. I keep telling myself to wait until we get to know each other again before telling her, but it already feels like I missed my shot to do that if I was going to be totally upfront with her.

Right now, I’m just kind of glad she doesn’t recognize me.

“So,” she says, “I have to ask.”

“What would you like to know?” I respond.

“Your first name is Nikolai, which is Russian, but your last name is Scipio, which is Italian,” she starts.

---