she’d believed in him.
Even though the lounge chairs were spaced for privacy in the business class lounge—not crammed on top of each other like at the airport gate, where she was accustomed to waiting for a flight—she was aware that she and Jake were being observed and might possibly be overheard. She would have to be discreet.
She leaned closer to him and spoke in an undertone. ‘So whatever happened to getting in touch? I see from the media that your divorce is well and truly done and delivered. You’re now considered to be the most eligible bachelor in the country. You must be enjoying that.’
Jake shifted in his seat. Which brought his thigh back in touch with her knee. She pointedly crossed her legs again to break the contact. It was way too distracting.
‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I want to explain.’
Eliza didn’t want to hear his half-hearted apologies. She glanced at her watch. ‘I don’t think so. My flight is about to be called.’
‘So is mine. Where are you headed?’
It would be childish to spit, None of your business , so she refrained. ‘Port Douglas.’
She’d been counting the days until she could get up to the resort in far north-east tropical Queensland. From Sydney she was flying to Cairns, the nearest airport. She needed to relax—to get away from everyday distractions so she could get her head around what she needed to do to ensure Party Queens’ ongoing success.
Jake’s expression, which had bordered on glum, brightened perceptibly. ‘Are you on Flight 321 to Cairns? So am I.’
Eliza felt the colour drain from her face. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Australia was an enormous country. Yet she happened to be flying to the same destination as Jake Marlowe. What kind of cruel coincidence was that?
‘Yes,’ she said through gritted teeth.
Port Douglas was a reasonably sized town. The resort she was booked into was pretty much self-contained. She would make darn sure she didn’t bump into him.
Just then they called the flight. She went to rise from her seat. Jake put his hand on her arm to detain her. She flinched.
He spoke in a fierce undertone. ‘Please, Eliza. I know it was wrong of me not to have got in touch as I said I would. But I had good reason.’
She stared at him, uncertain whether or not to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed so sincere. But then he’d seemed so sincere at the wedding. Out there on the terrace, in a place and at a time that hardly seemed real any more. As if it had been a fairytale. How could she believe a word he said?
‘A phone call to explain would have sufficed. Even a text.’
‘That wouldn’t have worked. I want you to hear me out.’
There was something about his request that was difficult to resist. She wanted to hear what he had to say. Out of curiosity, if nothing else. Huh! Who was she kidding? How could she not want to hear what he had to say? After six months of wondering why the deafening silence?
She relented. ‘Perhaps we could meet for a coffee in Port Douglas.’ At a café. Not her room. Or his. For just enough time to hear his explanation. Then she could put Jake Marlowe behind her.
‘How are you getting to Port Douglas from Cairns?’ he asked.
‘I booked a shuttle bus from the airport to the resort.’
His eyebrows rose in such disbelief it forced from her a reluctant smile.
‘Yes, a shuttle bus. It’s quite comfortable—and so much cheaper than a taxi for an hour-long trip. That’s how we non-billionaires travel. I’m flying economy class, too.’
When she’d first started studying in Sydney, cut off from any family support because she’d refused to toe her father’s line, she’d had to budget for every cent. It was a habit she’d kept. Why waste money on a business class seat for a flight of less than three hours?
‘Then why...?’ He gestured around him at the exclusive waiting area.
‘I met a friend going through Security. She