Chapter 21: Mile High Club

The luxury of business class had been worth every cent. Olivia and Lila sprawled across their seats, headphones askew, small faces peaceful in sleep. Purdey smoothed Lila’s hair, tucking it behind her ear. The flight from Bali had been bumpy, but now cruising altitude brought calm. Two weeks at the resort had rejuvenated her spirit, though the children’s repeated questions about their father’s absence had stung. She couldn’t bring herself to reveal the painful truth about his betrayal with her sister—a wound still too raw to expose to their innocent hearts.

A flight attendant approached, blonde hair pulled into a neat bun. “Ms. Tan?” she asked in a hushed voice.

Purdey nodded.

“Someone in first class has requested your company.” The attendant smiled. “I’m happy to watch over your daughters while you’re away.”

Purdey hesitated, glancing at her sleeping children. “Who’s asking for me?”

“The gentleman didn’t give his name. Said it would be a surprise.”

Curiosity prickled at her skin. Who on this flight would know her? She checked her watch—still four hours until Melbourne.

“They’ll be fine,” the attendant assured her. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

Purdey rose, smoothing her skirt. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”

She made her way forward, past the snoring businessman in 4C and the elderly couple sharing a tablet in 2A. The heavy curtain separating business from first class hung like a border between worlds.

She pulled it aside and froze.

John stood waiting, his familiar smile causing her stomach to flip like a startled fish. Before she could speak, he pulled her into the alcove beside the galley and kissed her deeply, one hand cupping her face—his palm warm and slightly calloused—the other at her waist, fingers pressing gently against the silk of her blouse.

The kiss stole her breath—confident, possessive, exactly as she remembered from their mud-slicked encounter at the construction site. His lips tasted faintly of mint and the scotch he must have sipped earlier, the scent of his sandalwood cologne enveloping her.

“You,” she whispered when they broke apart, her voice trembling slightly in the hushed air of the cabin.

“Me,” he confirmed, eyes crinkling with amusement, the soft blue of his irises catching the subdued cabin lighting. “I hoped it was your name I saw on the passenger list.”

“What are you doing here?” The words came out breathier than she intended.

“Business in Singapore. Coming home.” His fingers traced her collarbone, sending tiny electric pulses across her skin that raised goosebumps in their wake. “Lucky coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”

A flight attendant passed, shoes whispering against the carpet, Purdey noticing her giving them a knowing smile. John guided Purdey to his seat, a spacious pod by the window where the night sky stretched endlessly black. An open bottle of champagne waited in an ice bucket, condensation beading on the sleek glass surface.

“Sit,” he said, pouring her a glass, the liquid gurgling softly as golden bubbles raced to the surface. “We have catching up to do.”

She settled beside him, the leather seat cool against her legs, accepting the champagne. “The last time I saw you, you were covered in mud.”

“And you were magnificent.” His eyes darkened with memory, pupils dilating until only a thin ring of blue remained.

They clinked glasses, the crystal singing a high, clear note. The champagne bubbles tickled her throat, tangy and sweet with notes of apple and honeysuckle.

“Singapore?” she asked, running her finger along the condensation on her glass. “I thought your development projects were all in Melbourne.”

“Expanding.” He sipped his drink, watching her over the rim, the soft clink of ice against glass punctuating his words. “Asia’s booming.”

His hand found her knee under the shared blanket he pulled across their laps, the cashmere soft against their skin. His touch burned through the thin fabric of her skirt like a brand. His thumb made small circles, gradually moving upward until her breath caught in her throat, the cabin suddenly too warm despite the cool air flowing from the vents above.

“My children are back there,” she murmured, not moving his hand away, aware of the quickening pulse in her neck and the flush spreading across her chest.

“Sleeping soundly under watchful eyes,” he whispered, his breath hot against her ear, smelling of champagne and promise. His fingers inched higher, the friction against her stockings creating a soft, barely audible sound. “We have time.”

The cabin lights dimmed for the overnight portion of the flight, bathing them in a cocoon of blue-tinged darkness. The hum of the engines created a steady, soothing backdrop. Most passengers had pulled their privacy screens closed with a soft swish. John’s hand moved higher, thumb tracing circles on her inner thigh, the heat of his skin penetrating the fine weave of her stockings. Each touch left a trail of warmth that spread through her body like honey, slow and sweet and inevitable.

“John,” she whispered, her breath catching. “What are you doing?”

“What I’ve been thinking about since I saw your name.” His fingers found the edge of her underwear, brushing against her through the thin material. The cotton was already damp, and he smiled when he noticed.

Heat pooled between her legs. She should stop this—they were on a commercial flight, her daughters sleeping meters away—but her body responded to his touch with shocking immediacy. The encounter at the construction yard had left her yearning, wondering when she’d feel him again. She shifted in her seat, parting her legs slightly.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, his voice low, fingers working against her.

She bit her lip, staying silent. His smile grew wider. He increased the pressure, finding her sensitive bud through the fabric. Her hips lifted slightly, seeking more contact.

Under the blanket, she reached for him, finding him hard and ready. She traced the outline through his pants before her fingers worked his zipper down. He inhaled sharply as her fingers slipped beneath his boxers, wrapping around him.

“I’d forgotten how bold you are,” he murmured, slipping his fingers beneath her underwear, finding her slick and ready.

They sat side by side, champagne glasses in their visible hands, the blanket hiding where they touched each other. His fingers explored her folds, circling her entrance before sliding inside. Her body clenched around him, wanting more. A flight attendant passed without a second glance.

“Bathroom,” he whispered when she began stroking him more insistently, her thumb circling the sensitive tip, spreading the moisture gathered there.

“Too obvious,” she replied, her breath quickening as his fingers found her most sensitive spot, applying perfect pressure that made her thighs tremble.

No one’s watching.” He withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting her as his eyes held hers. “Besides, I want more than this. I want to be inside you.”

The raw hunger in his eyes made her decision. She nodded. Purdey could feel heat spreading through her body, her pulse quickening at his words. She wanted the same thing—craved the feeling of him inside her, filling the emptiness that had been building since their first touch. The thought of their bodies joining sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine, making her skin tingle with need. The rational part of her mind had long surrendered to this overwhelming desire.