1
ALISTAIR
One Year Earlier
“Hey, babe, where are you?” Miranda asks irritably as I pick up her call.
“I’m stuck in Mykonos. A storm has come through. I don’t think we will be able to take off tonight,” I explain softly to her, knowing how upset she will be with me. “I’m so sorry, babe, I tried everything, but I’m not going to be able to make it home in time for our anniversary dinner.”
The line goes quiet.
Shit. I’m in trouble.
We’re celebrating five years together, quite the milestone.
“You promised me you would be here,” she says angrily.
“I know, but Mother Nature has other plans. I promise I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart.”
“You always do,” she says with a sigh as if exhausted by this conversation already.
I understand her frustration. I didn’t plan on the storm happening, and I did promise her come hell or high water that I would make it home to be with her tonight, but I’ve literally tried every conceivable way to get back there.
I’ve been away for the past two weeks finalizing the opening of my latest Mykonos club just before the summer season hits the island. It’s important. I may not be saving lives like she does, but I am helping people escape from their lives. So that’s the same, isn’t it?
“The pilot thinks I’ll be home by ten in the morning,” I add hesitantly.
Miranda draws a breath before releasing it. I can imagine she’s pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m on the early shift. I won’t see you till later that night.” She sighs.
Miranda’s a doctor and works emergency in one of the more superior hospitals in London. Our schedules frequently clash as I own nightclubs, which means most of my business is conducted at night. When we first started dating, and she was a resident, her hectic schedule kept us apart, but now she’s a fully-fledged doctor and her shifts have stabilized—no graveyard shifts for her since she’s the boss—things have become more normalized for us.
“We can celebrate tomorrow night. I won’t go to work. I promise I’ll make it up to you, Mir,” I say, pacing around the private area of the terminal.
“I know you will,” she says sadly.
She’s so disappointed in me, I can tell by the tone of her voice, so I really need to make it up to her. “Love you, baby, with all my heart. Happy anniversary!”
“Happy anniversary to you too,” she says less enthusiastically than me.
I know I’ll need to be showering her with flowers and diamonds when I arrive home. “I’ll be there just as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” she says before the lines go dead.Yeah, I’m in the doghouse.
The storm passed quicker than expected, and I can’t believe we were able to leave Mykonos a couple of hours later. I tried to call Miranda to tell her, but she’d switched off her phone. I’m going to have to do some apologizing with my tongue all night long once I step through the door.
It’s almost midnight by the time we touch down in London, but at least I made it before the night’s over. Thankfully, the private airport isn’t far from our home.
My driver heads straight there, and I might have one minute to spare of the actual day by the time we arrive.
I grab my bags and head inside my home. All the lights are off, and the house is quiet—of course, it would be—because Miranda needs to get up early.
I place my bags on the floor, kick off my shoes, and hang up my jacket. Then I walk through the living room and up the stairs to our bedroom. My hand presses against the wood of the bedroom door that’s ajar and pushes it open. The light from the hallway filters through and illuminates the bed where Miranda is sleeping. The white sheet has slid down her side exposing her bare chest. My eyes slide down over her pert breasts and taut nipples until a snort catches my attention.
It's then I notice a second body in bed with her.
My entire body freezes.
My heart begins beating uncontrollably out of my chest.