ROSALIE's POV
As the private jet began to taxi down the runway, I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. The seat was far too luxurious for discomfort, but I didn’t want to make it obvious that this was my first time on a plane. Of all the people to share this experience with, Marco had to be the worst. Even if I passed out from sheer fear, I doubted he’d lift a finger to help. He sat across from me casually, while I tried to appear composed, running my fingers through the freshly styled waves of my hair.
I hadn’t just gone shopping with Marco’s credit card, of course. If this little act was going to be believable, I needed a complete makeover. My hair, which had been looking like a neglected broomstick, had been trimmed and brightened with subtle highlights at an expensive salon. I had pampe
