Wherever It Leads(41)

His gaze heats, scorching my defenses, and I realize that there would be no such thing as a safety net with Fenton Abbott.





The water stretches both directions and goes as far as the eye can see. It’s a beautiful azure, the light breeze sweeping across the lake and dragging the fresh air with it. I take a deep breath, feeling the peace of the water, something that’s always made me feel a sense of serenity, roll across me.

Boats cut lazily through the surface and people linger along the banks, dipping into the stores and cafes lining Lake Las Vegas. I take in the view, the exotic Mediterranean feel, and convince myself we didn’t get into a car and drive to the Amalfi Coast. We are still in Nevada, just a stone’s throw from the Strip.

In front of us sits a large boat. A yacht. A golden vessel with black accents and tinted windows, something that looks like it should be docked and waiting on royalty, not me.

I watch as Fenton talks to a man in a white suit on deck. The man is about my age, blond hair, and definitely cute. I can imagine Presley going ga-ga over him, and maybe I would be too, if he weren’t standing next to Fenton. If the blond were on his own, it would be hard not to look at him. Now it’s hard to even see him.

I take them in, watching Fenton explain something, and then turn to me. He studies me, hesitating, before waving me over.

I step onto the dock and make my way across. Fenton takes my hand immediately and gives it a gentle squeeze. He laces his fingers through mine and tucks me under his arm.

“Brynne, this is Lucas,” he notes. “He’ll be taking care of us today.”

“Madam,” Lucas nods. He begins to offer his hand and then quickly changes his mind. “I hope you enjoy your time on the Ajax.”

“Ajax?” I inquire, glancing up at Fenton.

“It’s the name of the boat,” he reveals, the sun highlighting auburn strands in his hair I hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh. Thank you, Lucas. I’m sure we will. It looks incredible.”

Fenton’s hand splays against my ribs in a sweet, yet slightly territorial gesture. Lucas takes another step back. It makes me giggle, and when I peer up at Fenton, his brows pull together.

“It’s our prized vessel,” Lucas continues, ignoring Fenton’s gesture, “And one we are delighted to have Mr. Abbott and yourself enjoy this afternoon. If we can get you anything before we set sail, please let one of the staff members know.”

Lucas disappears inside and Fenton turns me in his hands to face him. He brushes a lock of hair off my forehead. “I thought we could do this today. Just get away from the city and have an afternoon that’s just the two of us. Is that okay?”

“I think it’s fantastic.”

He seems relieved, the lines on his face disappearing. He traces my cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, pinning me in place with his gaze. I notice Lucas standing in the doorway waiting on us, but Fenton is unhurried.

His scrutiny is nearly unbearable. My hand trembles as I lay it on top of his.

“Mr. Abbott? We’re about ready to set sail,” Lucas calls, breaking our moment.

Fenton grins. “Let’s go get settled.”



The Ajax moves easily through the water. It’s a beautiful, cloudless day, and now that we’re an hour into our sail, the water traffic has waned and we’ve found a little cove to drift around. It’s private and besides an interruption from Lucas to refill our drinks a couple of times, we’re alone. Fenton seems to relish it.

He’s stretched back on the deck on an oversized lounge chair lined with marshmallow-like pillows. His aviators are over his eyes and I can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just relaxing, but it’s a sight to behold either way. His skin has beads of sweat dotting its golden ridges and I fight the urge to let my fingers explore the lines of his chiseled abs. Again.

“Are you staring?” he asks, making me jump. I laugh and continue to openly admire him. Screw it.

“Yeah. So?”

He chuckles and puts his hands behind his head, his body glistening with the movement. “This is nice, huh?”

“So nice. I’ve always loved the water. There’s just something about it that soothes my soul or something. Presley says it’s because I’m a Scorpio.”

“I’m a Scorpio,” he notes. “But I don’t know much about all that.”

“Me either. Presley goes through these phases of Feng Shui and astrology and veganism. I learn a lot just by watching her dabble in everything.”

“I was a dabbler back in the day,” he reflects. “I wanted to be a doctor, an archaeologist. And I was a vegetarian at one point too.”

“Seriously? I’ve seen you eat a lot of meat over the last few days.”

“I said was,” he laughs. “Not anymore.”

“Good to know. I don’t trust anyone that doesn’t like a good hamburger every now and then.”

He peers at me over the top of his sunglasses.

“What?”

He shakes his head and slides his glasses back over his eyes.

“Nope. The ignoring my questions stops now.” I’m kidding but not kidding. I want to know what that look meant.

“And I thought you were being sweet now.”

“I was. And then you annoyed me,” I laugh.