Page 112 of Tangled

She whispered to him again, “I promise I’ll come back.”

61

Cards

Colleen

“Istill think I should’ve gotten you a private plane. This is ridiculous. CEOs don’t fly on public transport,” Tristan said.

He’d driven her to the Nice airport for her flight to Phoenix to begin her CEO inspection tour, and they were standing on the sidewalk outside the terminal while other cars dropped people off at the kiss-and-fly.

Colleen was wearing one of the new pantsuits that Tristan had insisted he buy for her. She had to look the part of a CEO, he’d said, so he’d taken her shopping at the high-end designer shops in the Billionaires’ Shopping Center across the street from the Monte Carlo casino and then to his tailor. The flowing trousers and suit jacket were shockingly comfortable, almost like pajamas.

She also had a brand-spanking-new US passport in her Coach purse. Tristan’s school chum Prince Maxence, upon hearing that she had a little immigration problem, had called his good buddy the US ambassador to Monaco and arranged to have one dropped off at Tristan’s boat within the week.

Colleen told him, “I’m flying super-premium first class. I don’t have a seat. I have acubicle.A flight staff person is assigned to me to bring me anything I want for the whole flight. I’m going to be a spoiled brat when I come back.”

Tristan’s gaze at her firmed. “No, You’re mygood girl,not a brat.”

That smile, those low tones, and her body melted. “Okay.”

He continued, “All the other CEOs fly on private planes. I’m going to book one for your flight back.”

“I bought a round-trip ticket. I’ve already got a flight back.”

“Still, I would feel better if you had the comfort and security of a private plane.”

“I’m fine.”A thought occurred to her. “Are you worried about the Butorins trying something else? Do you know something?”

He flipped his hand in the air, dismissing that. “The Butorins are out of the picture. I have it on excellent authority that they will never bother you, or me,or anyone else,ever again.”

“Because they’re in jail?”

He smiled at her, and his smile seemed easy as he said, “Some of them.”

“Then, there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”

Tristan sucked in a breath and almost said something else, but he stopped. He pulled the small, silver box out of his pocket with a sigh. “I got you something, princess.”

“What,you got me somethingfor our one-month anniversary ofmeetingeach other?”

“Because a CEO should have one.”

“After the clothes, jewelry, and makeover, anything more seems excessive. I don’t know if I feel like a CEO, but somehow, I look like one.”

He handed her the flat case. “Maybe this will make you feel like one.”

The cool metal was smooth in her hand except for some engraving in the middle of one side. She traced the filagree with her fingertip, manicured in an elegant shade of pink. “What’s that?”

“Your initials. TheFis in the middle.”

They might be able to re-engrave the case, just maybe, maybe someday.

Or not. Not everything in life had to be matchy-matchy.

Colleen tried to pry it open with her fingernails. “What’s it for?”

“Your business cards.”