Page 117 of A Diamond Deal
A private jet.
Unmistakably, given the matte black colour and the writing down the side—MORETTI.
Her heart stammered right up into her throat as she felt the full force of this man’s wealth slam into her anew.
She’d never so much asbeenon a plane, and here he owned this enormous one.
Her body seemed to go into autopilot mode, thankfully, as the car door was opened and she managed to step out, onto a roll of carpet that led the way to the stairs and then up onto the plane. Before she could even take stock of her surrounds, a beautiful woman in uniform appeared, thrusting a glass of champagne into Amelia’s hand and smiling brightly.
‘Signorina Rossi, what a delight it is to have you on board. Signor Moretti is on a call, but has asked you to be settled for take-off, and says he will join you as soon as possible. Let me show you to a seat.’
Amelia could only blink, her brain whirling with that same sense of having been sucked into the very middle of a tornado. She nodded, clutching the champagne flute like a lifeline, as the elegant woman clipped ahead of her down the aisle of what could only be described as some kind of luxurious penthouse plane. Her jaw dropped and it was beyond her control to change that as she took in the wide, creamy leather armchairs arranged as living room furniture might be. Behind them was a partition, and she suspected the plane would go on in this fashion, like some enormous, palatial sky-home.
‘It’s incredible, isn’t it?’ the flight attendant murmured, turning and catching Amelia with her mouth open and eyes frantically scrubbing over the details.
Amelia turned to her, nodding once more.
The woman smiled. ‘Please, have a seat,’ she offered. Amelia took the armchair closest to the aisle, placing her handbag on the seat beside it. ‘Lunch will be served once we’ve reached cruising altitude.’
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, to the woman’s retreating back. It felt like the most surreal dream she could have conjured. This time, the morning before, she’d been preparing for a double shift in the diner. Today? She was on board her fiancé’s luxurious jet, about to set off to Italy.
The diner!She gasped, lifting her free hand to her lips, as she remembered she had a job, and people who were counting on her. She reached into her bag and removed her phone, quickly typing out a text to her manager, asking for some time off. She felt incredibly guilty, but this situation had really just exploded in her face. While letting her employer down wasn’t ideal, it truly couldn’t be helped, in the circumstances. There was no one else to let know. She’d left a note for her flatmates, but her bed rental was on a week-by-week basis. There were no friends. No one close, who’d care she’d left. Emptiness rolled in her belly.
The noise picked up as the engines began to spin and Amelia settled back in the chair, staring out of the porthole window at the airport and beyond it, in the far distance, the city. A nostalgic smile twisted on her lips, but then the plane began to move, taxiing slowly at first and then picking up speed, so any hint of a smile dropped and she felt a rush of panic for the sheer power of this thing.
A minute later, and the plane was launching into the sky, angling upwards, so the unfamiliar sensations gripped Amelia and she almost gasped. She took another drink of her champagne, and then another, until the glass was drained, but it didn’t help to ease her panicked nerves. As the plane soared higher, it encountered clouds, and bumped around a little, which Amelia absolutely hated. And she had the strangest, most ridiculous wish that Massimiliano were there.
Not for Massimiliano himself, per se, but because he was someone else, someone who flew often, who would have been able to reassure her that this was normal.
Instead, she was left to endure this on her own, the first of many new experiences this new version of Amelia was to be thrown into. It was what she’d agreed to—there was nothing for it but to sit back and hope. Hope that it would be okay. Hope thatshewould be okay.
But for Amelia, who’d frequently found that life was willing to throw the worst of the worst at her, hope was hard to cling to.
Chapter Four
THEY’D BEEN INthe air for almost two hours before Massimiliano emerged from the rear of the plane, striding towards Amelia in a pair of suit trousers, and a business shirt that had been unbuttoned a little at the collar, and with sleeves that were pushed up to reveal his tanned forearms. She’d been with him that morning, when she’d brazenly insisted on sex being included in their marriage agreement, but it was still a shock to see him striding down the plane with all the appearance of some kind of god brought to live with the mortals. He was so incredibly handsome, so strong and muscular, that her breath caught in her lungs for a different reason now.
The delicious meal of garlic scampi and rice, served with a crisp white wine and followed with a cheesecake, had long since been cleared away, and she sat now with a fine bone china cup of tea on the table that came out of her chair’s armrest.
He took the seat opposite, not bothering to hide the appraising way his eyes roamed her. Then again, he’d done this to her—his purchased bride. With a few calls, and no doubt a small fortune, he’d turned her from a run-down, exhausted waitress in discounted high-street clothes, to a woman who looked, on the surface at least, as though she were born to zip around in a private jet.
He nodded his approval. ‘This suits you.’
She sipped her tea, silently wondering if that was true. While she knew she looked polished, she didn’t feel entirely like herself. Maybe she wouldn’t for the next two years.
‘We must almost be there,’ she said.
‘Yes. Have you been looked after?’
She let out a soft laugh at the question. ‘I’ve been stuffed full to the brim,’ she admitted. ‘Your staff is lovely.’
‘I’ll take your word for it.’
She found it hard to believe a man like Massimiliano hadn’t noticed how beautifully elegant his flight attendant was.
‘And this is some plane.’
He looked around, as if seeing it through her eyes. ‘Yes, it is.’
