*Isabell's POV*
I entered the plane, my eyes wide as I took in the plush leather seats, the polished wood finishes, and the sheer, quiet luxury of it all. And there he was, already seated inside, looking completely at ease, like he owned the fucking sky. He was scrolling through his phone, but he looked up the moment I stepped in, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Are we seriously taking the plane to go on a date?" I asked, my voice a mix of awe and disbelief as I sat down in the seat beside him.
"We are," he said, his tone calm, as if this was the most normal thing in the world.
"But where?" I pressed, my inner perfectionist screaming for details.
"I won't tell you," he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Would you ever stop being so bossy?" I pouted, crossing my arms over my chest.
"And miss the response I get from you?" he teased, his voice a low, husky rumble that made me laugh. I couldn't stay mad at him.
"I can't help it," I said, leaning in a little closer, my voice dropping to a low, nearly a moan. "I just love following your orders." I winked, enjoying the way his eyes darkened at my words.
"You moaning like that will get you into trouble, Isabella," he warned, his voice dropping an octave, a clear, dangerous edge to it.
"What kind of trouble?" I asked, a blush creeping up my neck, making him chuckle.
"Come here," he said, his voice a soft, but undeniable command.
He didn't even wait for me to move. He reached out, his hands closing around my waist, and pulled me onto his lap in one smooth, powerful motion. I immediately wrapped my arms around his neck, settling against him. He claimed my lips in a possessive kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a raw, unfiltered hunger that made my head spin. His arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer, kissing me deeper, until there was no space left between us, no thought in my head except for him.
I was completely lost in his embrace, in the taste of him, the feel of his hands on my body, when I heard it. A pointed, deliberate cough. Someone clearing their throat.
"Good morning, sir," a female voice said, laced with a sort of attitude that, for some fucking reason, he never seemed to notice.
We pulled apart like guilty teenagers. I kept my head down, a hot flush of embarrassment creeping up my neck.
"Morning, Chloe," he greeted, his voice back to its usual cool, professional tone. But I saw it. The flicker of disinterest in her eyes as they scanned over me, the barely concealed curl of her lip. I'm not a fan of PDA, but damn, I'm gonna give her a show. Especially since the last time I saw her, she was practically drooling all over him. Too bad he's my boyfriend now. Nobody flirts with my man. Ever.
I took a deep breath, a slow, wicked smile spreading across my face. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close, and kissed him. Not the soft, sweet kiss from before, but a deep, claiming kiss that left no room for doubt. He seemed surprised for a second, but then he responded in kind, his arm tightening around my waist, kissing me deeper. I noticed her roll her eyes from the corner of my eye before I finally pulled away, a triumphant little smirk on my face
"The breakfast will be served shortly. I just wanted to wish you a great journey, since we'll arrive in Arizona in..." she was saying, her voice sickly sweet, but she shot a glare directly at me when he cut her off, his voice sharp and angry.
"That's enough, Chloe. Thank you. I instructed Mark not to disclose the destination," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
"Sorry, sir. I just mentioned the State," she said, looking properly embarrassed.
Serves the bitch right, She did that on purpose.
"Thank you, Chloe, that will be all," he said, dismissing her with a cold finality that made my heart sing.
She walks away leaving us alone again. The air in the cabin immediately felt lighter, cleaner.
"Arizona," I said, turning back to him, my mind racing. "But that's on the other side of the country. What the fuck are we doing there?" I asked, my curiosity overriding my annoyance with Chloe.
"Isabella," he began, his voice dropping to that low, seductive rumble that always managed to derail my train of thought. He leaned in, planting a series of soft, distracting kisses on my neck. "Have you ever joined the..."
"What?" I asked, my breath hitching slightly. "The mile-high club?" I teased, a smirk playing on my lips despite the shivers running down my spine.
He pulled back just enough to nod, a slow, arrogant smirk on his face.
"Nice try," I said, rolling my eyes playfully, but my heart was hammering. "Where are we going? What are we doing in Arizona?" I pressed, my mind suddenly clicking through the possibilities. "Wait. In Arizona there's..."*Flashback*
I'm in the breakroom with Cole, having a snack and just chatting, killing time. "Things to do before 30. Do you have such a list?" he asked, munching on a doughnut.
"I do," I replied.
"How many items have you checked off up till now?" he asked.
"Uhm. None. I'm only 21 anyway. I have almost 9 years to get them all done and I will," I said with a confidence I didn't really feel.
"Tell me one," he said. "And not the boring ones."
"Uhm, they're personal," I replied, suddenly feeling shy.
"Just tell me," he countered, giving me those puppy-dog eyes.
"Fine. I'd like to fly to the Grand Canyon," I admitted.
"What? But that's so boring," he retorted with a chuckle.
"Maybe for you," I countered.
"When was the last time you even went?" I asked.
"When I was a kid with my folks," he replied.
"See. My folks didn't take me anywhere. My father was too busy abandoning us, and my mom was too busy dying from cancer," I said, letting out a short, humorous laugh. It was my shield, my go-to defence mechanism.
"Omg, you're terrible," he sighed, his face a mask of confusion. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry."
"No biggie. I love my humour, I don't need your approval," I said, popping a grape into my mouth.
*End of Flashback*
He knows. Somehow, he knew about that conversation and he remembered. After all this time. I thought he was just my cold, unfeeling boss, a man who existed in his own impenetrable bubble. But he was listening. He was listening to my conversations with Cole, my stupid, throwaway comments, and he memorised them. He held onto this one small, seemingly insignificant thing about me.
The weight of that realisation hit me like a fucking physical blow. It was overwhelming. This wasn't just about a trip anymore. This was about him seeing me, really seeing me, in a way no one ever had. The cold, distant CEO I thought I knew was a facade, and behind it was a man who paid attention, to me.
"Are we going to the Grand Canyon?" I asked again, my voice barely a whisper, as if saying it too loud would shatter the moment.
"We are," he said, his voice soft, his eyes holding a warmth that felt like it could melt steel.