Something was swelling inside Alexio’s chest now—something bigger than the past. And with it came the fear that had held him back that morning. But for the first time Alexio didn’t fight it. And then he felt another very fledgling feeling take hold: hope. Did he dare to think that he too could reach out and take hold of something he’d once believed in? Even if there might be nothing on the other side?
With a grim sense of resolve, and knowing that he just didn’t have a choice any more, Alexio made the first of a series of calls and then instructed his driver to have the car ready.
CHAPTER TEN
SIDONIE SAT IN her seat, legs tucked up beneath her, and looked out of the small oval window of the plane. A faint heat haze shimmered off the tarmac outside. She felt bad about leaving her aunt behind, even if she had assured Sidonie she was fine. She was going to Dublin to enquire about getting back onto the college programme for her final year.
But then she felt the flutters in her belly and panic gripped her. How could she be thinking of going back to college when she was due to have her baby before Christmas? Tears pricked her eyes. She cursed her impetuousness. She hadn’t really thought this through at all. She’d just wanted to get far away from Paris and Alexio’s ongoing mistrust before he reduced her to rubble.
She couldn’t believe she’d left herself wide open to his cynicism again.
She heard the sound of the air hostess saying, ‘Your seat, sir.’
Sidonie’s heart stopped for a moment and she looked around. An incredible sense of disappointment lanced her when she saw a small, very rotund man, sweating profusely, taking off his jacket before he sat down. She looked away, cursing herself again. What had she been hoping for? For history to repeat itself and Alexio to turn up when she wasn’t even on one of his planes?
Sidonie choked back the tears and told herself that she was the biggest idiot on earth for letting her defences down so spectacularly. She bundled up her sweatshirt and put it under her head against the window, hoping to block everything out—including the take-off and landing and disturbing images of a cynical expression that softened only in passion.
* * *
‘I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid we’ve made a mistake with your seat. I’ll have to move you.’
Sidonie woke up and blinked, surprised to see that they were in the air and she’d missed the take-off. Then she recalled why she was so tired and scowled at the memory. The air hostess was helping the man beside her out of his seat and apologising profusely while he complained vociferously.
Sidonie didn’t mind. His elbow had been digging into her, and if no one else sat down she could—
‘Is this seat taken?’
Sidonie stopped dead in the act of laying out her sweatshirt on the seat beside her as a pillow. She went hot and then cold. She looked up.
Alexio. In a dark suit and shirt. Looking dishevelled and a little wild.
In a daze, half wondering if she might be hallucinating, she said, ‘Well, I was hoping that it would stay empty.’
Alexio grimaced. ‘I’m sorry, it would appear that all the seats are taken. This is the only one left.’
Sidonie lifted up her sweatshirt and held it to her like protection. She tried to ignore the jump in her pulse at the way Alexio slipped off his jacket and sat down, infusing the small space with his scent and magnetism. The sense of déjà vu was heady.