won’t there be press everywhere?” she asked carefully.
“Not everywhere, no.”
“You have a place in mind, then?”
He shot her a look then, rather long and speculative. It made her feel uncomfortably bare, as if he could see through her. “Yes.”
Her skin prickled and she gave her arm a quick rub, smoothing away the sudden goose bumps. “Is it far?”
“It’s not exactly close.”
“You know I don’t have my laptop,” she added briskly, trying to cover her unease. “It’s in London. Perhaps we could stop in London first—”
“No.”
She winced.
She knew he saw her expression because his jaw hardened and his eyes blazed, making her feel as if he somehow knew her role in today’s disaster, but he couldn’t know. Sophie didn’t even know, and Sophie was the one hauled away on Renzo’s shoulder.
Randall braked next to the plane and turned the engine off. “You can cry if you want, but I don’t feel sorry for you, not one little bit.”
“I’m not crying,” she flashed.
“But knowing you, you will be soon. You’re the proverbial watering pot, Poppy.”
She turned her head away, determined to ignore his insults. She’d take the higher ground today since he couldn’t. It couldn’t be easy being humiliated in front of hundreds of people—
“I trusted you,” he gritted, his voice low and rough. “I trusted you and you’ve let me down.”
Her head snapped around and she looked into his eyes. His fury was palpable, his golden gaze burning into her.
Her heart hammered. Her mouth went dry. “I’m sorry.”
“Then tell me the truth so we can clear up the confusion of just what the hell happened earlier today.”
“Renzo took Sophie.”
“I got that part. Witnessed it firsthand. But what I want to know is why. Why did he come? Why did Sophie go? Why are they together now when she was supposed to be here with me? You know the story. I think it’s only fair that I know it, too.”
Poppy’s lips parted but she couldn’t make a sound.
His narrowed gaze traveled her face before he gave his head a shake. “I appreciate that you’re loyal to Sophie. I admire friends that look out for each other. But in this instance, you took the wrong side, Poppy. Sophie was engaged to me. Sophie had promised to marry me. If you knew she was having a relationship with another man, you should have come to me. You should have warned me instead of leaving me out there, stupid and exposed.” And then he swung open his door and stepped out, walking from her in long, fast strides as if he couldn’t wait to get away from her.
Poppy exhaled in a slow, shuddering breath. He was beyond livid with her. He was also hurt. She’d never meant to wound him. She’d wanted the best for him, too. And beautiful Sophie would have been the best if she’d loved him, but Sophie didn’t love him. There had been no love between them, just agreements and money and mergers.
Shaken, Poppy opened her door and stepped out. She needed to fix this, but how? What could she possibly do now to make it better?
She wouldn’t argue with him, that was for sure. And she’d let him be angry, because he had a right to be angry, and she’d be even more agreeable and amenable than usual so that he’d know she was sorry, and determined to make amends.
Poppy went around to the back of the car to retrieve her bag, but a young uniformed man approached and said he would be taking care of the luggage and she was to go on board where a flight attendant would help her get settled.
Poppy wasn’t surprised by the brisk efficiency. Randall’s helicopter was always available and his staff was always the epitome of professional but it still boggled her mind that he had a helicopter and a private plane. It had to be a terrible expense maintaining both of these, as well as his fleet of cars. Randall loved cars. It was one of his passions, collecting vintage models as if they were refrigerator magnets.
“What about the car?” she asked him.
“I’m driving it back to Langston House,” the young man answered with a quick smile. “Do you have everything?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Enjoy your flight.”
Poppy boarded the plane self-consciously, pushing back dark tendrils of hair that had come loose from the pins. She felt wildly overdressed and yet exposed at the same time. She wanted a shawl for her bare shoulders and comfy slippers for her feet. But at least she wasn’t the only one in formal dress. Randall still wore his morning suit, although he’d loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button on his crisp, white dress shirt.
A flight attendant emerged from the jet’s compact kitchen galley and greeted Poppy with a smile. “Welcome on board,” she said. “Any seat.”
The flight attendant followed Poppy down the narrow aisle, past a small conference table to a group of four leather armchairs. The seats were wide and they appeared to be the reclining kind with solid armrests and luxuriously soft leather.
She gingerly sat down in the nearest chair and it was very comfortable indeed.
“Something to drink?” the pretty, blonde flight attendant asked. “A glass of champagne? We have a lovely bottle on ice.”
“I’m not the bride,” Poppy said quickly.
“I know. But the wedding is off so why not enjoy the bubbles?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I don’t want to upset Randall.”
“He was the one who suggested it.”
Poppy laughed, nervous. “In that case, yes, a small glass might be nice. I’m shaking like a leaf.”
“From the sound of things, it’s been quite a day. A little fizz should help you relax.”
The flight attendant returned to the galley and moments later Randall and the pilots boarded the plane. The three men stood in front of the cockpit, still deep in discussion. The discussion looked serious, too. There wasn’t much smiling on anyone’s part, but then, Randall wasn’t a man that smiled often. She wouldn’t have described him as grim or stern, either, but rather quiet and self-contained. The upside was that when he spoke, people listened to him, but unfortunately, Randall didn’t speak often enough, tending to sit back and listen and let others fill the silence with their voices. Sophie thought his silence and reserve made him rather dull, but there were plenty of women who found him mysterious, asking Poppy in whispers what was the Earl of Langston really like?
Poppy usually answered with a dramatic pause and then a hushed, Fascinating.
Because he was.
He had a brilliant
