**Winds Carry Lost Promises by Asa Holt Vale**
**Chapter 62**
Perhaps it was the sheer exhaustion that enveloped her, but Marina found herself in the depths of a deep, undisturbed slumber.
The world around her faded away, and she remained blissfully unaware of her surroundings until the gentle but firm announcement from the flight crew stirred her from her dreams.
As her eyes fluttered open, she was met not with the vast expanse of clouds or the distant horizon, but with a face so strikingly handsome that it took her breath away.
They were seated so close that she could hear the soft rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seemed to resonate deep within her.
*How could the heavens bestow such beauty upon one person?* Marina mused silently, a mix of admiration and disbelief swirling in her thoughts.
Not only did he hail from the illustrious Zamora lineage, but he was also absurdly attractive.
With a face like that, even if he had not been born into wealth, he could have effortlessly glided through life, relying solely on his looks.
In comparison, the male celebrities who thrived on their physical appeal seemed like mere shadows beside him, unable to cast any light on his brilliance.
Around them, passengers began to gather their belongings, preparing to disembark, yet Marina’s gaze remained fixated on Daron, who was still lost in his dreams.
“Mr. Zamora, we’ve arrived,” she said gently, her voice barely above a whisper, hoping to rouse him from his slumber.
But Daron remained unresponsive, his eyes still sealed shut.
His lashes were so long and thick that even Marina, a woman herself, felt a twinge of envy.
“Mr. Zamora…” she tried once more, her voice softening further, almost coaxing.
He was truly out of it. She called his name again, but he didn’t budge an inch.
With no other option left, Marina reached out and lightly nudged his arm, hoping to shake him awake.
Suddenly, Daron’s eyes flew open, and a flash of annoyance flickered across his features. His brows knitted together, and the piercing look he directed at her made Marina instinctively withdraw her hand, feeling a rush of embarrassment.
*Wow, he really has a killer morning mood,* she thought, a mix of amusement and apprehension settling in her chest.
“We’re here,” she reiterated, trying to sound upbeat despite the situation.
Daron merely grunted in response, his eyes fluttering closed again as if he were determined to reclaim his lost sleep.
Marina found herself momentarily at a loss for words, surprised by his nonchalance.
As the plane finally came to a complete stop, the other passengers began to file out, one after the other, but Daron remained oblivious, his eyes tightly shut.
She glanced at him again, noting how ridiculously handsome he still appeared, even in slumber, but the cabin was nearly empty now.
“Mr. Zamora,” she called softly, her voice tinged with urgency as she glanced at him once more.
There was still no reaction.
Taking a deep breath, Marina steeled herself, her resolve firming as she prepared to tap his shoulder. Just then, Daron, still with his eyes closed, unexpectedly grasped her hand as if he could sense her every intention.
His warm palm enveloped hers, and with a husky, seductive murmur, he said, “One minute.”
Caught off guard, Marina could only nod, “Okay.”
She decided to grant him that minute of extra sleep.
After all, he had indulged quite liberally in red wine during lunch, and it was only natural that he’d be feeling the effects now.
But…
*Why is he still holding onto my hand?* Marina wondered, a mix of confusion and helplessness washing over her.
She tried to gently pull away, but his grip was surprisingly firm, leaving her unable to free herself.
In that fleeting minute, the cabin around them emptied completely, the hum of conversation fading into the distance.
At that moment, a flight attendant approached, her gaze lingering on their intertwined hands for a brief moment before she addressed them with a polite demeanor.
“Mr. Zamora, Ms. Finley, your car is waiting for you on the tarmac,” she informed them.
Only then did Daron finally open his eyes, nodding slightly, his handsome features still exuding an air of cold detachment.
Seizing the opportunity, Marina quickly pulled her hand back, trying to ignore the flutter of something strange in her chest, and swiftly rose from her seat.
“Let’s go,” she said, her voice steady as she moved to exit the plane.

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