“Agathe!” Cherry couldn’t hold back her grin as she caught sight of the old woman, sitting patiently at the back of Ruben’s jet. There was a familiar, plastic pet carrier in her lap. “You bought Whiskey!”

“Hello, min kære. Of course I did! And look at you, so beautiful this evening.”

Cherry patted awkwardly at her hair. The mountain of enormous hair grips that had been used to pin it into place were mostly gone. It sprang out around her head like a cloud. “Thanks, Agathe.”

“You are welcome.” The old woman’s tired face lit up as Lydia appeared, leading Ella onto the plane. Ruben followed behind, Hilde in his arms. That child could truly sleep through anything. Cherry was rather impressed. “Children,” Agathe whispered happily. “How wonderful! We will have an excellent time.”

“Right...” It occurred to Cherry that she had no idea where they were going. A private jet and a hell of a lot of money were one thing, but she didn’t even know if Agathe had a passport. Unless Helgmøre was part of the European Union. How did that work, again? Free movement, or something like that?

Demi would know, for sure. Cherry scouted the narrow space for her friend’s reassuring presence and found… nothing. There was Lydia, strapping the sleeping Hilde into a seat, and Ruben having a very intense talk with Ella, but no sign of Demi.

Well, there weren’t many places to hide on a plane. “One second, Agathe,” she murmured. “I just need to ask Demetria something…” With a smile, Cherry headed for the front of the jet.

When she pushed aside the flight deck’s thick, cream curtain, the first thing she saw was Demi, head bowed, standing before the cockpit’s myriad controls. Then she looked down and saw Hans kneeling at Demi’s feet.

The bodyguard’s massive arms were wrapped around Demi’s waist, his face buried against her stomach. Demetria ran a soothing hand over his golden hair. “It’s okay,” she was whispering. “I’m fine. Everyone’s fine. Hans, you have to get up.”

Cherry slowly slid the curtain back into place.

“What are you grinning at?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Ruben’s voice. “Quiet,” she hissed, tugging him away from the cockpit. Usually, when she tried to move him around, he had the grace to pretend it was working. This time, though, he wouldn’t budge.

Cherry watched in horror as, with a teasing smile on his face, he reached for the curtain.

“Ruben, don’t—”

Too late. Oops.

Hans and Demi leapt apart, and Cherry stifled a sigh. Oh, dear.

Ruben was staring at the pair as if he’d caught them practicing a satanic ritual. He spluttered uselessly for a second before choking out, “What on earth is going on?”

“Nothing,” said Demi.

At precisely the same time, Hans said, “We’re getting married.”

Even Cherry coughed at that, but it was a pleased sort of cough. She’d been worried that the pair might never pull their heads out of their arses and get on with things. Clearly, she’d worried needlessly.

Demi kicked Hans in the shin with a gasp of outrage. “You are the bane of my existence.”

“I love you too.”

“Will you shut up?”

“Quiet!” Ruben demanded. Apparently, he’d regained his senses. The look of utter astonishment he’d worn just seconds ago was nowhere to be seen. He pinned a hard look on his best friend. “Are you marrying her or not?”

“Yes,” Hans insisted.

Ruben looked to Demetria. “Did he ask you?”

She nodded mutely.

“Properly?”

“Um… Yes?”

“And you agreed.”

Demi slapped her hands to her cheeks. “Will you stop? This is very embarrassing.”

Ruben’s face softened slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Hans snorted. “Charming.”

“Shut up. I wasn’t talking to you.”

Demi intervened before a real argument could break out. “Yes, I agreed,” she said firmly. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine. We’re all fine! Now if you could just go away, Ruben, that would be wonderful.” With those words, she strode towards the entryway and tugged the curtain back into place. Right in front of her boss’s face.

Ruben blinked. For a moment, he looked slightly shell-shocked. But then his lips spread into a grin. He turned to Cherry with a look of elation of his face. “They’re getting married!”

“Yes,” she replied, biting back a smile. “It would appear so.”

“I had no idea,” he said. “God, he’s my best friend and I had no idea. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me! I’m going to wring his bloody neck…” He trailed off with a frown. “You don’t seem surprised. Why aren’t you surprised?”

Cherry rolled her eyes. “I don’t know. Put it down to my razor-sharp instincts, or something.”

Ruben shook his head. His face softened, and suddenly, the narrow space between the cockpit and the rest of the jet seemed even smaller than before. His hands settled at her waist, his eyes raking over her face as if he’d never seen her before. “Cherry,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, hypnotised. “Yes?”

He kissed her. Hard.

There was no delicacy, just desperation. And yet, it was still tender. Still loving. Still everything she needed.

By the time he let her go, they were both panting. He grinned at her, looking impossibly, painfully young. He said, “I love you so fucking much.” Then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her again.

Cherry forgot herself for a moment. It was quite difficult to concentrate when his tongue was caressing hers, his lips achingly gentle. But eventually, she pulled herself away, her cheeks burning.

“Stop that,” she murmured. “Agathe’s looking!”

“I highly doubt she’s looking.”

“She’s in the room!”

“We’re not in a room, sweetheart.”

“Oh, bugger off. I love you too. Where are we going, by the way?”

A smile spread over his face, slow and sure and utterly gorgeous. “What did you just say?”

“Where are we going? Also, who’s flying the plane? Because, no offence, but—“

He slid a hand into her hair. “You said you loved me.”

“Well…” She rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Don’t make a big thing of it.”

“You, Cherry Neita, are the most baffling person I’ve ever met,” he laughed. But he pulled her in for yet another kiss, and this time, she didn’t stop him.