The Playboy Doctor's Proposal. Alison Roberts

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      ‘That’s not so long ago.’

      Hannah shrugged. ‘It seems a long time. We’re close, I guess.’

      ‘Hmm.’

      Ryan’s thoughts may as well have been in a bubble over his head. As best man, he would have to partner Hannah’s clone. Another woman who wouldn’t be on the same page. Someone else who would think he was shallow and lazy and a liability.

      Hannah opened her mouth to offer some reassurance. To finally apologise for losing it on Monday night in such an unprofessional manner. To suggest that they would both be able to have a good time at the wedding despite having each other’s company enforced.

      She didn’t get the chance.

      Her mouth opened far more widely than needed for speech as the plane hit an air pocket and seemed to drop like a rock. The fall continued long enough for someone further down the plane in economy to scream, and then they got to the bottom with a crunch and all hell broke loose.

      The big jet slewed sideways into severe turbulence. The pitch of its engine roar increased. The water glass and cutlery on Hannah’s tray slithered sideways to clatter to the floor. The seat-belt sign on the overhead panel flashed on and off repeatedly with a loud dinging noise. Oxygen masks were deployed and swung like bizarre, short pendulums. Children were shrieking and someone was calling for help. The stewardess who had been pushing the meal trolley staggered through the curtain dividing business class from the rest of the cabin, her face covered in blood. She fell into the seat beside Hannah.