Chapter 6

The moment Erin saw Harmon, the fear and humiliation evaporated, replaced by a profound, bone-deep sense of safety.

He was wearing the full captain's uniform. The dark fabric, the crisp white shirt, the gold stripes on his shoulders-it was more breathtaking than she could have imagined. Her heart did a painful, stuttering flip in her chest.

Braxton dropped her wrist as if it were on fire. A slow, mocking smile spread across his face. "Harmon. Didn't expect to see you down here on the factory floor. Quite the hands-on approach to management."

He was about to say more, to blow the whole thing wide open.

But before Harmon could speak, Clyde Curry materialized at his side, seemingly out of thin air.

"Captain Sargent," Clyde said, his voice polite but firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Mr. Chandler is here to personally oversee your transatlantic route qualification review. Your conduct has been noted."

Clyde's use of "Mr. Chandler" was a stroke of genius. It was both a warning and a plausible explanation.

Braxton's smile froze. He knew who Clyde was. He knew what that message meant. The playfulness vanished from his eyes, replaced by a grudging respect. He gave Harmon a curt nod and walked out of the lounge without another word.

The crisis was over.

Harmon was instantly at her side, his hands gently taking her arm, his eyes scanning her wrist. "Did he hurt you?" His voice was laced with a raw concern that made her knees feel weak.

She shook her head, her gaze fixed on him. The conflict, Braxton, Kalie-it all faded away. All she could see was him, in that uniform.

"You look incredible," she breathed, the words coming out before she could stop them.

A faint pink tinge appeared on the tips of his ears. He cleared his throat, a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes before it was gone.

"Let's go," he said, his voice a little rough. He took her hand and led her out of the lounge.

As they walked through the terminal, AeroLux employees nodded at him respectfully. Some called him "Captain Chandler," others, "Mr. Chandler." Lost in the glow of his presence, Erin didn't think to question the difference.

He led her to a quiet, empty gate area. "What were you doing with him?" he asked, his expression serious.

She explained about Kalie's call, about the report, about what she had seen.

Harmon's jaw tightened. "Stay away from Braxton Sargent, Erin. He's a complicated man." He didn't explain their connection, and she didn't ask.

She just nodded, trusting him completely. Then a thought occurred to her. "Wait. What are you doing here? I thought your flight was in a different terminal."

His expression didn't flicker. "I had my flight changed. I'm flying your plane to Chicago."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile touching his lips. "For today, Mrs. Chandler, I'm your personal pilot."

The words, a low, intimate murmur, sent a delicious shiver down her spine. Every doubt, every feeling of loneliness she'd had about their strange marriage, dissolved in that moment.

She was falling in love with him. Utterly, completely, and irrevocably in love with the man she believed was Captain Harmon Chandler.

Watching the adoration bloom in her eyes, Harmon felt a pang of something sharp and painful in his chest.

It was guilt.

She was falling for a phantom he had created.