Chapter 9 Chapter 9
I’ll say it again and again: this is unbelievable. I finished getting ready an hour late, and guess what? He’s not mad. I repeat—Hendeix Kai Lavarre is not mad!
And now here we are, standing on the rooftop of his building, waiting for his private helicopter so we can catch the 7 PM flight. He rebooked! I rebuked! I really can’t believe how a man can be this patient with a complete stranger. I know very well that time is gold for people like him. He’s a businessman, after all! Why isn’t he bothered by my failed punctuality?
“It’s here. Finally. He’s a whole damn minute late.”
My eyes widened as he walked arrogantly toward the middle of the rooftop, where the black helicopter had landed. What the heck? He’s mad at the pilot for being one minute late, but when it was me who made him wait an hour, he didn’t say a single harsh word. What in the world?!
“I’m really sorry, Mr. Lavarre. I promise it won’t happen again,” the pilot apologized humbly.
“My wife is wearing heels. What if her feet hurt while waiting for you?”
So over the top! I wanted to slap my forehead in embarrassment. I ended up apologizing to the pilot myself and telling him not to mind what Hendeix said. Hendeix helped me board the helicopter. This wasn’t my first time in one—I’d flown before for emergency patient rescues. But it still felt surreal that this man, a Lavarre, owned his own helicopter and could summon it anytime. When I was working at the hospital, it was always a struggle to even get clearance to use one.
Anyway, my thoughts were cut off when Hendeix adjusted my headset for me, brushing hair away from my face.
“I apologize that you have to experience this. You took time to prepare, and now I’m ruining your makeup. But this was the only solution I could think of since the next flight would’ve been tomorrow morning,” he said, apologizing again, which only made me shake my head. Maybe I’m just not used to being treated this way; that’s why I find it so hard to believe. Is this normal? Do men really do things like this?
“Why are you so considerate?” I asked, but the helicopter began to ascend, and I couldn’t catch what he said.
I watched his lips move. “What did you say?” he mouthed.
I shook my head and smiled before speaking: “I’m grateful—grateful that you came into my life!”
I looked out the window, tears brimming in my eyes, accepting what was happening to me. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up yet. For the first time, I feel like I can embrace the good things happening in my life, things I used to doubt whether I even deserved. Maybe I was never treated right before—that’s why what Hendeix is doing amazes me so much. I thought we were just going to be bedmates, since that’s what our arrangement was: I told him he could touch me legally in exchange for being my husband. I wasn’t after sex. I just wanted someone to save me from my anxiety. I never asked him to fix me, yet from what he’s doing now, I’ve never felt this peaceful before.
I caught myself smiling, but that faded the moment the back of my right hand brushed against his. I turned to look at him—and at that exact moment, he looked at me too.
Why do I see him as just a normal person when he’s supposed to be the biggest business tycoon alive? Is it because I’m sharing the same space with him? Because I’m seeing him in his most natural state?
He reached out and adjusted my headset. “Now you can hear me properly. I was confused about why you weren’t answering.”
I laughed. “Oh, right. I didn’t realize my PTT wasn’t turned on! Are you hearing me now?”
“I do. You don’t have to shout.”
I laughed harder. “What were you saying earlier? I didn’t hear you.”
“Nothing. We’re already here. Let’s go.”
Huh? What was that? Why does he sound off? This is the first time I’ve seen him like this. We’re not even in Italy yet, and it feels like we’re already about to discover more about each other.
I removed my headset and thanked the pilot. Hendeix had already stepped off the helicopter ahead of me. Oh, no… looks like his gentleness just expired.
But I fell silent when he draped his coat over my shoulders and took my hand.
“It’s cold inside the airport,” he whispered as he walked beside me. His hand rested on my waist, and I wanted to reach for his hand—almost did—but stopped myself. Am I even allowed to do that? Should I ask him first?
I didn’t get to ask until we boarded the plane. We were seated in first class, and the silence between us made me too shy to speak. I didn’t even dare bother Hendeix, who was busy on his iPad. Is that about his work? I thought he cleared his schedule for our honeymoon. Maybe people are bothering him—that’s why he’s ignoring me. And he really does look intimidating when he’s serious. He seems hard to approach.
“After our landing in Rome, there’ll be a private limousine waiting for us. They’ll take us to our hotel. We’ll stay there for two days, my wife. We’ll visit the Trevi Fountain and the Colosseum and explore Trastevere,” he explained, glancing at me. My irritation melted away when he started talking to me. Almost instinctively, I reached out and held his hand. He glanced down but let me hold him. “Have you been there?”
“Nope.”
“Good.”