we’re showered with rice and good wishes and luck and love. At the end, my mom and dad are waiting.
“Thank you, Mom,” I whisper as she hugs me, no longer worried about getting makeup on my suit. Dad pulls me into another hug.
“Well done, son. Have a wonderful honeymoon.”
They both kiss and hug Ana, and Grace starts crying again.
Mom! Get it together.
Taylor, standing by the driver’s door, moves to open the back passenger door. I shake my head, and instead I open it for Ana, who turns suddenly and tosses her wedding bouquet into the waiting crowd. Mia catches it with a loud whoop of joy that can be heard above the whistles and cheers of approval from everyone gathered to say good-bye.
I help Ana into the Audi, scooping her dress up so it doesn’t catch in the door. Giving everyone a quick wave, I sprint to the other side of the car, where Taylor is holding open my door.
“Congratulations, sir,” he says warmly.
“Thank you, Taylor.” I slide in beside my wife.
Thank God! We’re finally leaving. I thought we’d never get away.
Taylor eases the Audi down the driveway to the sound of enthusiastic cheers and rice pelting the car. Reaching for Ana’s hand, I draw her knuckles to my lips and kiss each one in turn. “So far so good, Mrs. Grey?”
“So far so wonderful, Mr. Grey. Where are we going?”
“Sea-Tac.”
Ana looks puzzled, so I brush my thumb across her lip.
“Trust me?”
“Implicitly,” she breathes.
“How was your wedding?”
“Fantastic. Yours?”
“Amazing.” And we’re grinning at each other like idiots.
We drive airside through the security gates at Sea-Tac and steer toward the GEH Gulfstream. “Don’t tell me you’re misusing company property again!” Ana blurts when she spots the plane. Her eyes shine and she grips my hand, radiating excitement.
“Oh, I hope so, Anastasia.” I give her my most wicked grin.
Taylor stops the car at the foot of the steps to the plane, climbs out, and opens my door. I exit. “Thanks again, Taylor. We’ll see you in London,” I murmur, so Ana doesn’t hear.
“I’m looking forward to it, sir. Safe travels.”
“You, too.”
“I’ll grab Mrs. Grey’s hand luggage,” he says, and my heart warms at Ana’s new honorific. I walk around to her door and open it wide. Leaning in, I lift her into my arms.
“What are you doing?” she squeals.
“Carrying you over the threshold.”
She giggles, wrapping her arms around my neck, and I carry her up the plane steps, where we’re met by Captain Stephan.
“Welcome aboard, sir. Mrs. Grey,” he greets us, with a bold grin. I set Ana down and shake his hand. “Congratulations to you both,” he continues.
“Thank you, Stephan. Anastasia, you know Stephan. He’s our captain today, and this is First Officer Beighley.”
“Delighted to meet you,” Beighley says to Ana.
Ana looks a little shell-shocked, but she responds in kind to them both.
“All preparations complete?” I ask Beighley.
“Yes, sir,” she replies with her usual confidence.
“We have the all clear,” Stephan informs us. “Weather is good from here to Boston.”
“Turbulence?”
“Not before Boston. There’s a weather front over Shannon that might give us a rough ride.”
“I see. Well, we hope to sleep through it all.”
“We’ll get underway, sir,” Stephan says. “We’ll leave you in the capable care of Natalia, your flight attendant.”
Natalia?
Where’s Sara?
Natalia looks vaguely familiar.
I ignore my misgivings. “Excellent,” I say to Stephan, and taking Ana’s hand, I guide her to one of the seats. “Sit.”
She does as she’s told, folding herself into the seat with surprising grace. I remove my jacket, undo the buttons on my vest, and sit down opposite her.
“Welcome aboard, sir, ma’am, and congratulations,” Natalia welcomes us, poised with two crystal flutes of pink champagne.
“Thank you.” I take both and offer one to Ana, while Natalia disappears into the galley.
“Here’s to a happy married life, Anastasia.” I raise my glass to Ana’s and we clink.
“Bollinger?” she asks.
“The same.” We’ve been drinking it for most of the afternoon.
“The first time I drank this it was out of teacups.” Her eyes have a faraway look.
“I remember that day well. Your graduation.”
What a day that was… I think spanking was involved. Hmm…and a discussion about soft and hard limits.
I shift in my seat.
“Where are we going?” Ana drags me back to the now.
“Shannon.”
“In Ireland?” she squeaks.
“To refuel.”
“Then?” Ana’s eyes are out on stalks; her excitement is contagious.
I grin at her and say nothing, tantalizing her.
“Christian!”
I put her out of her misery. “London.”
She gasps, looking shocked and awed at once. Then her light-up-Seattle smile is back.
“Then Paris. Then the South of France,” I