As if sensing my growing arousal, Julian smiles darkly and rises to his feet, holding me against his chest. “Don’t make me regret this, my pet,” he murmurs as he carries me toward the stairs. “You don’t want to disappoint me, believe me.”
“I won’t,” I vow fervently, winding my arms around his neck. “I promise you, Julian, I won’t.”
Part III: The Trip
Chapter 15
Nora
I’m going home. Oh my God, I’m going home.
Even now, as I look out the window of the plane at the clouds below, I can hardly believe this is happening. Only two weeks have passed since our conversation at breakfast, and here we are, on our way to Oak Lawn.
“This plane is nothing like what I’ve seen on TV,” Rosa says, gazing around the luxurious interior of the cabin. “I mean, I knew we wouldn’t be flying on a regular airline, but this is really nice, Nora.”
I grin at her. “Yes, I know. The first time I saw it, I had the same reaction.” I sneak a quick glance at Julian, who’s sitting on the couch with his laptop, seemingly ignoring our conversation. He told me he’s planning to meet with his portfolio manager while we’re in Chicago, so I’m guessing he’s going over prospective investments in preparation. It’s either that or the latest drone design modification from his engineers; that project has been taking up a lot of his time this week.
“My first time flying, and it’s on a private jet. Can you believe it? The only way this could be better is if we were going to New York,” Rosa says, bringing my attention back to her. Her brown eyes are bright with excitement, and she’s practically bouncing in her plush leather seat. She’s been like this for several days, ever since I got Julian to agree to have her come with us to America—something my friend has been dreaming about for years.
“Chicago is pretty nice too,” I say, amused at her unintentional snobbery. “It’s a cool city, you’ll see.”
“Oh, of course.” Realizing she insulted my home, Rosa flushes. “I’m sure it’s great, and I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful,” she says quickly, looking distraught. “I know you’re only bringing me along because you’re nice, and I’m ecstatic to be going—”
“Rosa, you’re coming along because I need you,” I interrupt, not wanting her to go into this in front of Julian. “You’re the only one Ana trusts to make my morning smoothies, and you know I need those vitamins.”
Or at least that’s what I told my obsessively protective husband when I asked to have Rosa come with us. I’m fairly certain I could’ve made the smoothies myself—or just swallowed the vitamin pills—but I wanted to make sure he’d allow my friend to join us. To this day, I’m not sure if he agreed because he believed me, or because he didn’t have any objections to begin with. Either way, I don’t want Rosa to inadvertently rock the boat . . . or the private jet, as the case may be.
It still doesn’t feel entirely real, the fact that we’re on our way to see my parents. The past two weeks have simply flown by. With all the exams and papers, I barely had time to think about the upcoming trip. It wasn’t until three days ago that I was able to catch my breath and realize that the trip was, in fact, happening, and Julian had already made all the necessary preparations, beefing up the security around my parents to White House levels.
“Oh, yes, the smoothies,” Rosa says, shooting a cautious look in Julian’s direction. She finally caught on. “Of course, I forgot. And I’ll be helping to unpack all the art supplies, so you don’t overtire yourself.”
“Right, exactly.” I give her a conspiratorial grin. “Can’t have me lifting heavy canvases and all that.”
At that moment, the plane shakes, and Rosa’s face turns white, her excitement evaporating. “What—what is that?”
“Just turbulence,” I say, breathing slowly to combat an immediate swell of nausea. I’m still not entirely out of the morning-sickness phase, and the plane’s jerky motion is not helpful.
“We won’t crash, will we?” Rosa asks fearfully, and I shake my head to reassure her. When I glance over at Julian, however, I see that he’s looking at me, his face unusually tense and his knuckles white as he grips the computer.
Without thinking, I unbuckle my seatbelt and get up, wanting to go over to him. If Rosa is afraid of crashing, I can only imagine how Julian must feel, having experienced a crash less than three months ago.
“What are you doing?” Julian’s voice is sharp as he stands up, dropping the computer on the couch. “Sit down, Nora. It’s not safe.”
“I just—”
Before I finish speaking, he’s already next to me, forcing me back into the seat and strapping me in. “Sit,” he barks, glaring at me. “Did you not promise to behave?”
“Yes, but I just—” At the expression on Julian’s face, I fall silent before muttering, “Never mind.”
Still glaring at me, he steps back and takes a seat across from me and Rosa. She looks uncomfortable, her hands twisting in her lap as she gazes out the window. I feel bad for her; I’m sure it’s awkward to see her friend being treated like a disobedient child.
“I don’t want you to fall if the plane hits an air pocket,” Julian says in a calmer tone when I show no further signs of trying to get up. “It’s not safe to be walking around the cabin during turbulence.”