You’re going on vacation. With a billionaire family. On a private jet.


    No big deal.


    Sure.


    The knock on the door pulled me out of my spiral.


    Sophia and Jay stood there like they were starring in an airport fashion editorial. Casual airport chic, designer sunsses, glowing skin, and the kind of confidence that came from knowing your seat was nowhere near economy.


    “Ready?” Sophia beamed, her ponytail swinging. <fn8015> The source of th?s content is fin?novel</fn8015>


    “As I’ll ever be,” I muttered, grabbing my carry–on.


    We loaded everything into the car and drove toward a private terminal tucked away from the chaos of LAX. As the gates opened, I spotted a sleek, white jet gleaming under the sunset sky, the ck Industries logo glinting near the tail.


    “I’m really doing this,” I whispered.


    Inside, the jet was a whole other world. Cream leather seats arranged in cozy clusters, gold- ted finishes, subtle lighting, and windows that framed the sky like art. ull–service bar sat near the front. The air smelled faintly of citrus and something expensive I couldn’t name.


    And then… Liam.


    He was lounging in one of the wide seats, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t just trigger minor heart palpitations. Gone was the CEO armor. No suit. No tie. Just a gray henley that hugged his torso unfairly, ck joggers, and clean white sneakers. His hair was slightly tousled, and his sleeves pushed up, revealing forearms that needed a warningbel.


    He looked… edible.


    The second his eyes lifted and locked onto mine, something shifted.


    His


    gaze lingered.


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    Then he tapped the empty seat beside him, a barely–there smile pulling at his lips.


    I hesitated. My feet didn’t.


    I slid into the seat next to him, nerves buzzing through my fingers as Sophia and Jay disappeared to the other side of the cabin with zero shame. Clearly orchestrated.


    Silence settled between us for a beat. I caught the faint scent of his cologne, clean, musky, dangerously familiar.


    Then I blurted, “You look good. I mean… casually. You should ditch the suits more often.”


    A grin broke across his face. Not smug. Not rehearsed. Unguarded and real.


    “Good,” he said. “Because you’re going to be seeing a lot more of me without one over the next few days.”


    I blinked. My brain short–circuited.


    And then he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to set my skin on fire.


    “Hope you can handle the yumness.”


    I choked. “That’s not a real word.”


    He shrugged, eyes glinting. “Maybe not. But it fits the mood, don’t you think?”


    I looked away, heat crawling up my neck. “You’re really full of yourself.”


    “Not full. Just honest.”


    His voice wrapped around me like a silk robe. Warm, teasing, impossible to ignore.


    And sitting next to him, inches from his sun–warmed skin and killer smile, I suddenly understood exactly what Sophia meant when she said ind Emily needed a glow–up.


    Because Liam ck in vacation mode?


    Might just be the most dangerous version yet.


    The jet’s engines rumbled softly beneath us, a low hum vibrating through the plush floor as we taxied down the private runway. I sank back into the wide leather seat, the kind that reclined like a throne, while the flight attendant moved with practiced grace.


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    She checked seatbelts, offeredst–minute sses of champagne, and secured the crystal flutes with polished efficiency.


    Everything felt smooth. Effortless. Intimate.


    Liam reached over, fingers brushing my waist with maddening case, and adjusted my seatbelt without asking.


    “You were buckled in wrong,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth as silk. “Can’t have you flying out of your seat.”


    “I’m pretty sure I had it right,” I replied, though the sound of my voice betrayed me. Unsteady. Light. His closeness did strange things to my lungs, like making them forget how to function.


    “You didn’t.” He leaned back, clearly satisfied with himself, just as the captain’s voice crackled through the inte, announcing our altitude clearance and expected arrival in St. Barts.


    The jet lifted from the tarmac, and a subtle pull held me in my seat as the city below began to disappear. Skyscrapers shrinking to scattered lights, then fading altogether behind clouds.


    Once we leveled out, the seatbelt sign clicked off with a gentle ding.


    Liam looked utterly at ease, his long legs stretched out, one arm draped across the armrest between us. His fingers tapped an idle rhythm on the soft leather, and I wondered if he was even aware of how effortless he made tension feel.


    “You don’t strike me as the vacation type,” I said, ncing sideways at h have yourptop out, scolding someone over a missed email.”


    He smiled without looking at me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”


    “I’m starting to realize that.”