Worth the Risk (7 page)

The boardwalk was a stretch of entertainment and shops, luring locals as much as tourists. Not a cloud in the sky today and the sidewalks on each side of the man-made pond were filled with both. Stephen crossed one of three small bridges that joined the two sides to reach the Butterfly House.

He entered the impressive glass atrium and was immediately hit with its tropical warmth. Trees indigenous only below the equator rose thirty feet toward the light in the center. Bushes of every shape and size filled the space, a spectrum of green against a rainbow of flowers. And butterflies. Too many to count, flittering and fluttering everywhere he looked. But he was only looking for one thing.

Peering between leaves bigger than his head, he found it, and took a moment just to watch her. He would have said Hannah couldn’t look more beautiful than she had yesterday with her cheeks flushed, her hair and cherry pink lips dripping wet. He’d have been wrong.

Even with temperatures in the eighties, she was completely covered in jeans and a long-sleeved white top. Standing in the sunlight streaming from the glass dome, she looked almost ethereal. Like some
Lord of the Rings
goddess, with her honey-gold hair hanging in waves to her waist and no fewer than ten butterflies on her head and shoulders. Some slowly pulsing their wings, others completely still, but all drawn to her. As he was.

A black-haired little girl of maybe six stood beside her. Tiny braids covered her head close to the scalp, each one sporting a colorful bead at the end. She stood hunched over, leaning her hands on metal walking sticks. Hard braces covered each arm elbow to wrist and a similar version ran from her hips to where they attached to special shoes.

As he made his approach, the child tried several times to hold her hand steady so the butterflies would land as they did on Hannah’s, but the jerky movements scared them away. When he rounded the corner, Hannah’s head came up, surprise clear in her pretty brown eyes.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She laid a hand on the girl’s shoulder, rolled a bead through her fingers. “You came.”

“I did.” They shared a smile over the similar lines from their first date.

“This is Lola.”

“Hi.” The little girl spared him a quick glance before going back to the way more interesting black-and-blue butterfly on Hannah’s shirt.

“Her mom’s doing some errands while we hang out.”

“We’re hanging out in here right now,” Lola said.

He nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

Hannah attempted to transfer a butterfly from her own finger to Lola’s, but the girl wobbled and lowered her hand to catch herself.

Stephen looked around for an empty bench. No luck. They moved along slowly and wobbling, sending insects scattering as they went.

“I have an idea. Is it okay to take your hands out of these?”

“If you want me to fall on my face,” Lola said with a good-natured smile.

“No, I definitely don’t want you to fall on your face. I was thinking I could hold you, if it wouldn’t hurt you.”

“No, it wouldn’t hurt me. But I’m getting too big to carry.”

“Hmm.” Stephen tried not to smile. “Well, why don’t we give it a try? I’m stronger than I look.”

Hannah helped Lola disengage her hands and Stephen lifted the child into his arms. “See, light as a feather. I’ll be your personal chariot for the day. How does that sound?”

Lola was all smiles, but the look on Hannah’s face, gazing up at him with adoration…for that he would’ve gladly carried a sack of bricks.

Now they were moving, meandering about the maze of vegetation, following the walkway, and counting the butterfly shapes hidden among the flowers. He had to squat down with the child every few steps, as she was determined to find each one, and the three of them made a game of it.

When he transferred a butterfly from his finger onto her nose, Lola giggled and squirmed. “Put it on Hannah’s nose!”

He did, and took the opportunity to brush his fingers along her neck when he swept her hair out of the way.
So beautiful.
And he imagined her lips wet and pink again, only this time from his mouth instead of rain.

“Is he your boyfriend?” Lola asked.

“What?” Hannah’s eyes flashed wide. “No.”

Well, that was quick. And emphatic.

With Lola directing, they walked next door to the aquarium. As much as the Butterfly House had been warm and bright, the aquarium was cool and dark.

Light shimmered in waves over the walls, creating the sense they were under the water with the sea creatures instead of only watching through the glass. Lola sat on a low bench, entranced by the sharks swimming in the tank before her.

A few feet away, Hannah shivered and wrapped her arms around her body.

“Cold?”

She dropped her hands to her sides. “No.”

“Liar.”

Her mouth fell open at the insult, but Stephen grinned and she quickly shut it and shot him a look like Lizzy often did.

He gave a swift rub up and down her arms, loving the feel of her under his hands but wishing he was touching bare skin. Soft but toned, strong enough to handle horses and saddles, yet his fingers easily circled her upper arms with extra to spare.

God, he’d wanted to take her yesterday right there against the wall of the barn. Crush his mouth to hers, rip off the wet shirt that practically begged him to suck her nipples into his mouth. Even now, he imagined pulling her back and into the shadows. He’d slide his palms up slowly until they cupped her breasts, run his tongue along her throat to that spot where it met her shoulder, and—

“Stephen,” Lola sang out his name loudly from a few feet away. She’d fully embraced the chariot notion.

He made a few more passes over Hannah’s arms just because, then let go. “Better?”

She nodded, looking a little dazed. If she wasn’t warmed up, he was hot enough for both of them.

They met Lola’s mother at noon, an extremely appreciative woman if a bit strung out. He felt for her. A single mom, taking care of a child and all her special needs while still dealing with the everyday duties of a mother plus working. And she hadn’t been here to shop, but to apply for a better job.

Maybe he could help them out. A car payment, house payment. Hell, he could buy them a house. He’d mention it to Matt, see what his brother was working on.

“So,” he said, as they watched the two of them depart.

“So.” Hannah looked around before bringing her eyes back to his. “I planned on doing some shopping.”

“Great. I love shopping.”

She gave him a get-real look. “Don’t lie. I have four brothers.”

“Okay. I don’t
mind
shopping. In fact, I need something for my sister. I guess you being a girl and all, you’d have some insight.”

“Maybe. Do you have any ideas?”

“Nope. I’ll leave that to you.” And leave the day open to spend with Hannah.

It was fun trying to win her affections, having to work for it. He was surprised he even remembered how. They crossed the closest arching bridge to the side more heavily strewn with shops and restaurants and started their hunt. Beneath them, ducks and koi paddled for food, conveniently sold by the handful from nearby dispensers.

They moved in and out of shops easily, neither feeling the need to fill every silence. Soap and candles, stationery and handbags. Just outside a bookstore, two kids raced past decked out in cowboy hats, leather fringed shirts, and boots. He slipped an arm around Hannah’s waist to guide her out of their erratic path.

“Did you ever want to be a cowboy?”

“Of course. Doesn’t everyone? And then I think it was a pirate.” He squinted one eye, making her laugh.

“You’d have made a good pirate.”

He did have a habit of taking what he wanted. “What about you?”

She smiled. “A mermaid.”

“Nice.” Very nice, actually. He could picture her swimming through the water, her mass of hair floating behind her naked body. “You could have saved me when my captors made me walk the plank.”

“Ha. Somehow I think you’d be the one doing the capturing.”

“I’d certainly be trying.” Like he was now.

“So you decided to be a legal pirate?” she teased. “Collect booty as a businessman?”

He gave her a sideways glance and grinned as they stepped into a beach-themed store. “I thought about architecture for a while,” he said as they cruised the aisles. “I always liked buildings. But I was good with numbers, so I majored in finance.” In the back of his mind he’d always thought he might end up building with his dad one day.

“I messed around, played the stock market, got lucky. I was young. I took risks, got lucky again. I graduated and got picked up by Goldman Sachs and assigned to real estate ventures. Turned out I had a knack for picking lucrative property investments. A lot of it’s research. Knowing your opponent.”

“Your opponent?” She picked up a shell-covered picture frame, put it back.

“That’s how I looked at it, like a game. Know the person or people on the other side. What they want, what they’re willing to do to win. What
you’re
willing to do.” In the last few years he’d been willing to do quite a bit.

She nodded and moved to another shelf. She didn’t mention his money or status. Didn’t drop any hints or fish for invitations. Maybe she didn’t know. He kind of hoped she didn’t. “What about you? Did you always want to do what you do?”

“No.”

A shadow passed through her eyes before she turned away. Quick, but he caught it.

“I always liked kids, thought about being a pediatrician maybe, but then I sort of…”

“Sort of what?”

“I sort of fell into physical therapy. It was a natural fit, then the horses. What about this?” She held up a glass wind chime.

“It’s perfect.” Without saying more, they moved to the checkout. Hannah loved what she did, he’d seen that firsthand. So why didn’t she want to talk about it?

He had it wrapped and they left the store. He’d noticed Hannah’s pace had slowed considerably over the last hour. And more, something about her gait…not quite limping, but he shortened his stride. “That pretzel stand is calling my name. Mind if we break for a quick snack?”

“Sure.”

He grabbed two pretzels and they sat on benches spaced intermittently next to the water. Urns overflowing with tiny pink and purple flowers graced each end. He took a bite, watched her do the same as the ducks begged on the water behind them.

“So, your brothers are pretty protective, huh?”

“They have their reasons, I guess.”

She reached up and slipped a hand into her hair. She had this habit of wrapping the strands around her finger, which he found totally endearing and completely hot.

“Nothing wrong with being protective. My brothers and I weren’t so easy on guys sniffing around our sister.” Well, shit. That didn’t come out right. Sounded like he was sniffing around Hannah. He barely resisted the urge to rake his fingers through his hair. He didn’t get nervous around women. Didn’t feel uncomfortable. Didn’t care enough to. But then she smiled at him like she understood, making everything better.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re just shopping, right?”

He wasn’t sure he liked how that sounded, like none of this mattered.

She turned her back and pinched off a piece, threw it into the water. It wasn’t long before the ducks waddled up the bank to ask for their snack up close and personal.

“Who was that woman you came to the barn with last week?”

He didn’t want to talk about Camila. “No one.”

“Everyone is someone.”

He sighed. “You’re right. Someone I work with.”

“Ouch!” Hannah jerked back.

“What? Did he bite you?”

She shook out her hand, gave a hesitant laugh. “Not really. Sorry. Just scared me.”

“Let me see.” He raised her hand for closer inspection.

“He didn’t mean to.”

It looked okay, but he brought her hand to his lips anyway and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm. Her lips parted and she sucked in a breath. He was going to kiss that mouth and soon. But not yet. He gave her a gentle bite that made her yelp and laugh.

So beautiful and so much more. He was dazzled by it and…for a second he wondered if maybe there could be something for him between not giving a shit and caring too much. Something between meaningless sex and meaning everything.

He kept her hand, liking the way it felt in his, and they made their way over the short bridge to the other side. Large, blinking globes bordered a giant sign on their right announcing today’s feature film, the newest Bond movie.

“I wanted to see that.”

They spoke at the same time and there was an instant unity. Their eyes met and he was sure they both felt it. A split second of that unmistakable couple feeling he’d once known well. Something expanded inside his chest before he squashed it down.

He glanced at his watch as much to check the time as to push that long ago feeling aside. “Perfect timing. What do you think?”

“Sure. Let’s do it.”

An hour and a half later they exited the theater to an afternoon sun slipping low behind the buildings, leaving the sidewalk in cool shadow. Stephen stepped away to drop their empty popcorn containers in a waste can and she took the opportunity to check her phone.

Three missed calls, all from Nick. Her finger hovered over the button to call him back, but she texted him instead. She didn’t want to waste her time with Stephen explaining where she was.

When he returned to her side, he took her hand and linked their fingers as he had in the movie. Warm and solid, and her heart tripped. They didn’t talk about what to do next, just a silent mutual agreement to keep walking.

There was a lot more to him than rich businessman. He’d been like a little kid in the aquarium. And smart.
Really
smart. Spouting off facts before even reading the placards in front of each glass case. And he made her laugh with his silly made-up nonsense; even better, he’d made Lola laugh. It seemed nothing rattled him, and as much as just being near him made her nervous, it also felt good. He made her smile.

It would have been easier if he’d turned out to be a jerk. Easier to say no, easier to protect herself. The more she liked him, the more she struggled against that niggling fear reminding her she had little ability to tell the good guys from the bad.

They watched street performers and stood in line to pet a white tiger cub from a local zoo. She didn’t even want to know how much money he’d passed the guy to get her an extra five minutes. After that, they decided on dinner, a hibachi-style place. The food was good, the table lively. She learned Stephen had a talent for catching food in his mouth. And that she had none.

They came out of the restaurant to a very different boardwalk. Twinkling lights hung like lace in ornamental trees against the dark sky. As they’d learned from their waiter, tonight was couples night, the last night of Spring Fling Week.

The sound of a band drew them in a certain direction, and Stephen took her hand again. It was becoming a natural thing, his touching her, her liking it. She felt safe and secure with Stephen’s big body shielding her from the crowd. For someone who never felt completely safe, it was amazing. Liberating. Even with her brothers it wasn’t the same, maybe because their tension radiated like a warning blast, constantly on the lookout for danger. Had they always been that way or only after? She couldn’t remember.

People flowed toward the stage. Couples closer to the front danced, some with practiced moves, others content to sway in each other’s arms. She and Stephen stood together for a while overlooking the water, listening and people-watching.

“How about some ice cream?” Stephen suggested.

“Sure.” She waited for him by the rail, tapping her fingers to the beat, wondering what it would be like in Stephen’s arms. To be held against his hard body. How would she fit against him? Would she still feel safe or would she feel trapped?

“Here you go.”

Stephen returned, looking like a proud little boy with his offering. The one bowl he held was huge, piled with mounds of ice cream and topped with chocolate sauce and whipped cream. She certainly didn’t need her own, and there were two spoons, but—

“I thought we could share,” he said with a smile.

Her stomach tumbled again. At the smile. The man. And the intimate act of sharing. Stephen held the bowl for both of them and they took turns until her tiny plastic spoon broke in the hard ice cream. “Well, crap. I’ll get another one.”

Stephen caught her hand and tugged her back. “I’ll share.”

Something about the look in his eyes had her blood going hot, her skin tingling. He held the ice cream out for her to help herself with his spoon, to put her lips where his had just been.

“Go ahead.”

She took her bite and passed it back. The way his eyes held hers when he slipped the spoon between his lips was devastating. He always said a lot without saying much, and right now he seemed to be saying this was more than sharing ice cream.

Back and forth they repeated the process until it was nearly gone. Instead of taking his next bite, he held it out to her and waited for her to open up like a baby. When she did, he brought it within an inch, then at the last second bypassed her lips and slid the spoon into his own mouth.

Her jaw dropped and she gaped at him. “I can’t believe you just did that.” Forgetting herself, she punched his arm.

He faked pain, laughing. “Believe it, baby. So I guess you think you should get the last bite, huh?”

“I think that’s only fair. Since you got the first one.”

“
You
got the first one.” He shook his head like he was disappointed. “You have a bad memory, Goldilocks.”

He scraped around the edges of the bowl, careful not to miss any last bit of chocolate. When he was satisfied, he held the spoon in front of her lips. “Open.”

She shook her head.

“Trust me.”

Finally, and with a warning glare, she took a chance. Agonizingly slowly, he filled her mouth with cold vanilla and warm fudge.

“Damn.” His eyes went heavy, his voice a deep whisper. He cupped her cheek in his palm and a thousand bolts shot through her. Just a touch, but more intimate than anything she’d ever felt. He touched the corner of her mouth with his thumb, swiped it across her lower lip.

She was well and truly caught, staring into the same brown eyes she’d looked into all day, but not like this. Not with this feeling that something was about to happen. Something that could change everything. Her heart pounded, raced toward whatever that something was. She licked her lips self-consciously under Stephen’s scrutiny. Like he was hungry. Starved.

Stephen leaned in. Closer and closer as if in slow motion, until his lips hovered a breath from hers. His fingers slid through the hair at the side of her face.

“Hannah.”

Just her name, and it was terrifying and magical, and before she had time to process the enormity of it, he kissed her. His lips were soft and firm and every cell in her body tuned in to that single spot where their lips met. She didn’t know what to do next, but it didn’t matter.

He took full control, sliding his tongue along the seam and pressing until she let him in. Their tongues touched, tentatively at first, and she tasted him, sweet and hot. Filled with a wonderful floaty feeling, her hands came up to his chest. Her fingers clutched at his shirt and his tightened in her hair as he angled her face, kissed her deeper, until she was dizzy with it.

She had no idea how much time passed before his lips left hers, only that they did and she wanted them back. Applause erupted and for a second she assumed it was universal excitement over her first kiss and she wanted to join in. But as she slowly came back to herself, she realized the band was saying good night, the audience showing their appreciation.

Her eyes finally fluttered open and Stephen was there, a big smile on his gorgeous face like he’d been waiting.

He hooked a strand of hair behind her ear. “So damn sweet.”

She stared, heart still racing. “It’s the chocolate.”

“No. It’s you.” He dipped his head again. “It’s definitely you.”