re of professional composure. He raised a thumb to his still-stinging l

conspicuous distance. "Inform the captain that I wil

stant's eyes wi

Julian said, h

e brightly lit mirror. Her lip was swollen where he'd crushed his mouth against hers, a faint purple bruise a

matchmakers at bay. He was a ghost in her life, a headline in the financial news. She had convinced herself he felt nothing for her but disdain, a necessary tool he was f

She was Nora Vance, Purser. In command. She straightened her

sion a careful blend of concern and insatiable curiosity

air. Before Nora could formulate a bland, corpo

the air out of the room. The casual chatter died instantly. Every flight attendant, every

ixture of speculation, envy, and suspicion. She kept her

aircraft. The bus was already crowded. Nora scanned for a

next to

A faint, mocking smile touched his lips. "Ms. Vance," he said, his voice polite, forma

no choice. She walked the short, agonizing distance and sat down, keeping as much space

rsation with the VP on his other side about fuel hedging strategies. He

de to the tarmac felt like an eternity, a claustrophobic journey in a rolling fishbowl. She had no idea what he was

ng fuselage of the A380. As the crew began to

body just enough to block