Echo (Bleeding Hearts #1)(38)

“First time on a boat?”

“Gee, how’d you guess?” I quipped.

“You’re going to be fine,” he assured me. “You’re in competent hands.”

I wanted to tell him that made him sound arrogant, but I kept my mouth shut as he messed with all the doohickeys by the steering wheel. I figured he would probably need all of his focus not to kill us, so I didn’t want to give him any distractions.

The motor roared to life, and Ryland came alive as he pushed us out to sea. It was the strangest transformation, all of his tension and stress rolling off of him as he took on the open water.

Once I calmed down enough to look around me, I started to enjoy myself. The Bay area was a sight to behold with the twinkling lights of the city falling into the backdrop and the Golden Gate Bridge off to the side.

The salt air cooled my face and refreshed me in a way I was unfamiliar with. I closed my eyes and inhaled, adding another first to my memory bank. When I opened them again, I caught a glimpse of Ryland as he messed with the old-fashioned knobs on his radio. For someone so tech savvy, I couldn’t believe how much he fit into this picture. He was in his element, and I was in awe of the sight before me.

The moonlight shimmered off the open water and reflected the lights of an unknown place up ahead. But it was Ryland’s profile that I drank in, seeing one of those rare candid moments when he was simply Ryland. Not Ryland Bennett, billionaire. Not Ryland the ruthless businessman. Not even Ryland the puppet master who had control of my fate.

This was the face of the Ryland I had first glimpsed on my front porch. The man who had an appeal to him I could never quite put my finger on. He was obviously handsome, but that was never what did it to me. With my family, I never had too many high hopes for attracting a good-looking boyfriend. The best I could have hoped for was that he was sweet and could handle the crazy of Norma-Jean and an overly protective Brayden. But Ryland was none of those things. He was dark and mysterious and the type of man my mother warned me were the worst for a woman’s heart.

I could still hear her gravelly voice in my head as she let out a bitter laugh.

Those men are just like your father. Good for nothing, low life, scum of the earth.

A shudder ran through me, and I was surprised when Ryland kneeled down and ran his hands over my arms. We’d stopped at a private dock, and I hadn’t even noticed.

“Are you cold?” he asked, concern etched on his face.

“No.” I shook my head and let the memories of the past fade away. “I’m fine. Are we here?”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “This is the place.”

He unbuckled me, and as I glanced at his face, I thought I saw a hint of nerves there. He helped me up onto the dock before following with the bags.

There was a heavy silence as he led me up the dock and to a tiny staircase that looked to be the length of the Great Wall of China. Only, it was carved up the side of a steep embankment.

I walked for exercise because my high school gym teacher told me it was the closest I could get to actual physical exertion without hurting myself. So climbing up the side of a mountain was not on my list of all-time favorite things to do, but I started the trek anyway.

Half-way through, my thighs were burning, and I had a splitting ache in my side as I grasped the railing beside us.

“This is not the same place you took me last weekend,” I huffed.

Ryland smiled and paused to let me rest.

“It is, but you came by car. Not boat.”

“And you prefer the boat?” I wheezed.

A dark look passed over his face before he nodded tightly. “It’s tradition.”

I didn’t have any clue what that meant, but the solemn look on his face was enough to kick my butt into action again. There were so few moments he was happy, and tonight was one of them. Until I opened my big mouth.

Again I questioned why it mattered to me, but there was no logic to my madness.

When we finally traversed the great wild and landed on flat ground, I was rewarded with the most breathtaking view I’d ever seen. Sitting atop the bluff was a Victorian style mansion most definitely not built anytime this century. There was an actual rolling expanse of grass and lush greenery all around us. It was as private as private could get in San Francisco.

When I turned around, I was again rewarded with panoramic views of the city’s skyline and the Golden Gate Bridge. I couldn’t stop taking it all in, and it was only when I looked at Ryland that I saw how carefully he was watching me.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“This is my home. On Belvedere Island.”

“It’s so beautiful…” That word didn’t even do it justice, but it was the only one I could think of.

He didn’t reply. He led me up another staircase and unlocked the back door. I followed him inside, taking in every nuance of the place. Each room we passed through was filled with lush draperies and rich, bold colors decorated the walls. Golds and reds, creams and beiges accented the mahogany colored floors and accents. The furnishings were extravagant, plush earthen tones that loomed larger than life beneath the vaulted ceilings. It was the most beautiful home I’d ever seen.

I wanted to stop to take every inch of it in, but Ryland was quick to lead me up the large wooden staircase that wound itself towards the top of the house.

He stopped on the second level and walked down another long corridor before opening a set of pale blue French doors to reveal the master suite.