The same message popped up. DO NOT BOARD. NO VISA.

“If you could stand to the side, ma’am.” The supervisor waved to the glass windows away from foot traffic. “Once the final stragglers are on board, I’ll be sure to fix it.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t move.

My heart flew, pounding against rib after rib. My body turned into stone.

Stop being ridiculous, Stel.

Overtiredness had finally caught up with me and I was reading into things. There was no earthly reason why I shouldn’t get on the plane.

I’d always loved flying. In fact, when I left school, I’d been an air-hostess for two years before I realised dealing with humans in a claustrophobic tube wasn’t the best condition for my personality.

However, the travel had been incredible. The aeronautical calling breathed in my blood. I knew how airports ran. I knew the codes. I knew the lingo. I knew what pilots and air-hostesses got up to on overnight flights away.

What I didn’t know was why—when I’d spent the past seven weeks flying every other day with no problems—every issue appeared all at once.

Another warning went off. I wrenched my head up.

The supervisor glanced at a new crowd. “Ah, Mr and Mrs Evermore. Are you related to Ms. Estelle Evermore by any chance?”

A family I’d never seen before with two children looked at me. Their plaid jumpers and matching backpacks would’ve been comical if they didn’t share my last name. What were the odds? Were we related and I never knew?

Mr. Evermore shook his head. “Not that I’m aware.”

We made eye contact. Mr. Evermore was the postcard-perfect American with a bushy beard, floppy hair, and kind eyes. His wife smiled, hugging the child closest to her. The boy couldn’t have been older than thirteen, but he took after his father. The youngest, a rosy-cheeked girl, yawned, holding the arm of a stuffed kitten.

Shovel-Face.

An image of my ugly but gorgeously affectionate cat hit me hard.

A lick of terror erupted down my spine.

I couldn’t explain it. I had no words to describe it.

But I’d never been so afraid of something I couldn’t see, hear, or touch.

I had the strangest sensation that I’d never see my favourite companion again.

Don’t be so stupid, Stel!

The supervisor cleared his throat, shattering my fear, returning to my problematic booking. “No worries. It’s just a bit strange that there’s more than one Evermore party on this flight and you’re not related.”

Yet another strange message.

Another unknown issue.

I don’t want to get on the plane.

I didn’t speak as the Evermores laughed, took their passes, and drifted down the air-bridge.

Another gust of fear darted down my back.

Get it together.

They didn’t seem anxious. They had children to protect. Instincts behaving themselves. Nothing was going to happen.

Pinching my wrist, I grounded myself firmly in reality and shoved away scepticism of flying.

Looking up, my gaze fell on a man with sexy dark hair and the most insanely bright blue eyes I’d ever seen.

He jogged toward the counter, handing over his boarding pass in a rush of crumpled clothing and messily packed messenger bag.

The blonde agent blinked, eyeing his clean-shaven jaw, his height, and well-formed biceps. He wore hard work like an aftershave while the provocative black rims of his glasses firmly placed him as intellectually mysterious.

My songwriter’s brain went into overdrive, penning him a song of outdoorsy carpenter or wildlife patroller. Sunshine existed in his gaze, wildness wept from his flawless skin. I’d never seen a man so tamed by scruffy jeans, grey t-shirt, and glasses but somehow still look so recklessly undomesticated.

His boarding pass went through without complaint.

His eyes met mine.

He paused, lips twitching into a small smile. A bolt of interested attraction sparked from me to him. My mouth responded against my will, parting beneath his attention.

Who is he?

Sunlight reflected off his glasses, blinding me for a moment.

“Have a nice flight, Mr. Oak.” The blonde agent returned his pass.

The connection between us vanished as he pinched it from her fingers and hoisted the bag strap up his shoulder. “Cheers.”

An accent. English, by the sounds of it. Before I could conjure more tales of fancy, he disappeared down the air-bridge.

A moment later, the supervisor clapped his hands. “Hurrah. All done.” Giving me a new boarding pass, he grinned. “All sorted, Ms. Evermore. You’re free to board. Sorry for the delay.”

Taking the documentation, I put one foot in front of the other.

I ignored every warning bell in my blood.

I followed the Evermore family, the enticing Mr. Oak, and willingly gave my life to fate.

I put my previous fear down to overwork and stress.

I convinced myself I was reading into things, that disasters happened to other people; that life didn’t send messages to those about to die.

I didn’t listen.

I ignored the signs.

I got on the plane.

Chapter Two

...............................................

G A L L O W A Y

......

I HATED FLYING.

The only reason I agreed to fly halfway across the bloody world was to complete my apprenticeship under one of the best builders in the style of architecture I wanted to specialise in.

For the past six months, I’d lived on his estate. I’d listened to my mentor by night. I’d worked beside him by day. He taught me how little I knew and how much I needed to learn if I wanted to excel in the profession I’d chosen (not to mention reminding me how close I was to throwing it all away).