Wherever It Leads(16)

“I think so.”

“Didn’t you say last night that sometimes that’s all that matters?”

I’m not sure if that is what I said. I can’t focus. I’m lost in his voice, in the way he seems completely unrushed to convince me to take this trip with him. All I know at this minute is that I want to be across from him, looking into those steely eyes, and feeling like this.

“Brynne?”

“I’m not taking your money.”

His laugh reverberates through the phone. “Fine. But if you can’t afford to miss work, I’m happy to compensate you. Money is no worry for me.”

I nod, then realize he can’t see me and laugh. “I’m not happy about you thinking I need to go shopping either.”

“I might need you to attend a dinner with me and some of my associates. I would expect you to dress a certain way and won’t allow you to come out of pocket to purchase those items, Brynne.”

“I have nice things and Presley’s closet at my disposal. I don’t want you buying me clothes.”

“I’m not compromising.”

What do I say to that? “Fenton . . .”

“Edie will have someone pick you up later today. Get with her on a time that works for you.”

“How do I even know what to buy? I don’t even know where we’re going.” I’m kind of giving in by asking that, but it seems like a moot point to argue at this juncture. I can almost hear his grin through the phone.

“We’re going to Las Vegas. Edie has a list of things you will need. Just leave it up to her.”

“You are overwhelming.”

“Just wait,” he teases and my hesitation dissolves. “And Brynne?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. If you need anything at all, please let me know. But right now, I have a meeting I have to get to.”

My cheeks flush. “I’m sorry. Go. I didn’t mean to interrupt your day.”

“You’re the best interruption I’ve had in a long time.” The smoothness is back, wrapping itself easily around me. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow . . .”

The line clicks and I sit and stare at the phone.

What have I gotten myself into?





“Is that everything?”

Glancing around my room, it looks like I’ve been burglarized. Clothes, shoes, and jewelry are strung everywhere. My attempt at being prepared for this trip has resulted in a mess of epic proportions, and truth be told, I don’t know if I have everything. It’s hard to know if you’ve packed all you’ll need for a trip with a man you barely know, to a place you’ve never been, and aren’t exactly sure why you’re going.

Well, besides the obvious.

I look back to my suitcase. It’s stuffed to the brim, overflowing with dresses and swimsuits, footwear and accessories. Most are brand new, tags still attached, sporting prices I don’t even want to look at if I want to keep my panini down.

I gaze at the pile of items and the clock on the table beside my bed. A little less than twelve hours to go.

I shuffle to the chair in the corner and drop into it. Presley, in turn, tosses me a puzzled look.

“Don’t even,” she warns.

“Don’t even what?”

She wags a finger my direction. “Don’t get that look on your face. The one that says you’re overthinking this. Again.”

“I’m not overthinking it,” I contend. “I’m just thinking that maybe this isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Maybe it’s not,” she says, surprising me with her candor. “But it is the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever seen you do. You’ve been more fun today than you have in a long time, and I think you’re doing the right thing by going. Even if it’s not,” she says, sitting next to my luggage, “What’s the worst that can happen?”

I take a deep breath and hold it, because I’m not sure how to answer that.

“Exactly,” she points out, thinking her point was made. “You’ll get properly ravaged if you’re lucky and will come home on the other side of a plethora of orgasms at the hands of a man I’m quite sure is skilled enough in the sack to rebound you. It’s a wildly amazing plan if you ask me.”

“Yeah. I agree.”

“Don’t sound so excited about it.”

“It’s just . . . I don’t know what he expects. I don’t know what to expect myself. I think I’m in too deep here. I mean, yeah, I’m all about having some fun, but going away with a guy I don’t know for a few days seems . . . extreme?”

“And amazing.”

“And potentially a nightmare,” I sigh.

I push off the chair and walk to my bureau and grab the bottle of water I set there earlier. I take a long, leisurely drink, pretending the clear liquid is vodka that will soothe my nerves as it goes down. But it doesn’t. When I place it back down, my anxiety level is still climbing.

“If you get there and he’s an oddball, call me and I’ll send someone to get you. It’s not a big deal,” Presley notes.

“He’s not an oddball.”