patterns and colors.
My eyes mischievously glanced at the door to the master suite, hoping to encourage him to steal away with me for a moment. He laughed at me
before stating, “tempting, so very tempting, but our dinner will get cold!”
Our fabulous dinner was served in courses, and I was quite full after the prime rib. Everything was delicious; it felt like we ate for two hours.
Dessert would have to wait.
After our plates were cleared, an older man wearing a tuxedo joined us in the salon. He sat at the baby grand piano that graced the portside
and proceeded to play.
Ryan stood up and held out his hand. “Dance with me,” he whispered.
He took me in his arms and placed my hand in his as he slowly turned us on the floor. His hand gently caressed the small of my back; he rested
our entwined hands on his chest.
I whispered in his ear, “Thank you for the best date of my life.”
He didn’t comment. He just raised his eyebrows a bit and smiled at me.
I closed my eyes as our cheeks touched and rested together. Our bodies swayed to the music. And every so often, his lips would reach mine.
It was almost midnight when the ship approached the docks. As we disembarked the yacht, I noticed that the marina looked totally different.
Anthony was waiting to escort us safely to our limousine.
When we drove out of the marina I noted that the name on the sign was different; this was not the same marina where I boarded the yacht, and
we were headed northeast. Ryan gathered my hand in his as we sat in silence.
“Shell game?” I murmured.
Ryan just smiled and raised my hand to his lips.
I placed our hands on my lap and he started to draw random patterns on the inside of my thigh with his fingertips. I was smoldering in my own
skin. The limo pulled into the empty parking lot and I could see my car waiting with Richard standing guard. When we were at a complete stop, the
driver and Anthony exited. I had anticipated my door to open a moment later, but it didn’t. I glanced back at Ryan; he looked absolutely adorable
sitting there smiling at me.
“I hope you had a good time tonight.” He smirked confidently.
My hand was already gripping the door handle to let myself out. I was confused - was this the good night, goodbye time?
“What?” he asked, obviously noting my expression.
“I didn’t realize that this was the end of our evening,” I muttered, adding a hint of playful disappointment to my tone. “I thought…” I looked away. “I
guess I thought wrong.”
“I don’t want it to be the end of our evening, but I don’t want to assume either,” he spoke softly.
“I thought I was the one assuming!” I gently smiled. “Let’s go.” I motioned. “Drive us home.”
As we exited the car, Ryan stopped to remove his bags from the trunk of the sedan. He gave me an impish grin as he shrugged. He was like the
little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
I felt a little self-conscious myself, considering there were three witnesses to our indiscretion. Ryan didn’t seem to care. He relieved Richard of
my car keys without a second thought and opened the passenger door for me.
“Pull down the alley,” I instructed. “Then you can hop out.”
“Son-of-a…” Ryan growled. The headlights of my car illuminated the alley, shining light on the photographers hovering around my back door. He
quickly threw my car into reverse and backed out into the street. He drove down the street in front of my pub; paparazzi were staked out there as
well. He sped past them, barely pausing at the stop sign.
My eyes were focused on the anger on his face. “Ryan, just pull over,” I whispered.
He drove another few blocks and pulled into the parking lot of the local grocery store. He lightly pounded his fists into my steering wheel.
“Ryan, I’m ready for this, if you’re ready to be seen with me.”
He looked over at me; some of the anger left his expression. “Cat’s gonna be out of the bag!”
“They already suspect. They’re back there waiting at my doors. I’ve been followed and photographed all week.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I’ve seen the pictures. You’re all over the tabloid sites.”
“They took my picture when I left tonight too,” I said regrettably.
I looked down at my hands. Thoughts of him not wanting to be officially seen with me crossed my mind. After all, I was a commoner, a “nobody”
in his world of fame. My insecurities started to surface when he didn’t speak.
“It’s okay. Just drive to your hotel. I’ll drive myself home.” Disappointment coated my words. My perfect date was quickly turning sour, even
though deep down inside I understood. “Then you’ll be safe.”
“I’m not worried about that. I’m worried about you. Your life is going to turn chaotic, just like mine. The paparazzi are relentless! I feel like I’m
throwing you to the lions.”
“You’re not throwing me, Ryan. I go willingly... if you truly want me by your side. But still, I understand why.”
He took my hand in his, gently tugging my arm to get me to look at him again.
“They are going to hound you.”
“So what?” I countered. “They’ve already started.”
“That doesn’t bother you?” His eyes scrunched together, assessing.
“They are annoying, but really, if something like that bothered me, I wouldn’t be sitting in this car with you right now. The question is – does that
bother you?” I uttered, barely above a whisper.
“Yeah, it does. But not for the reason you might be thinking!” he retorted. “I’m afraid to take away your freedom.”
He made it sound like he was sentencing me to solitary confinement. I just didn’t see it that way.
I shook my head to disagree. “I thought you might be ashamed to be seen with me,” I whispered.
“Ashamed?” He looked at me like I was being absurd. “Is that what you think? That I’ll be ashamed if our relationship becomes public?”
I silently nodded my head.
He slapped the gear shifter into drive and squealed the tires as he turned the car around.
Ryan parked in my spot in the lot. Photographers descended on us before we even got out of the car.
“Wait, let me get my bags first and then I'll get your door,” he instructed.
We were followed all the way down the street as we hurried to the front door of my pub. The lights from the camera flashes in the dark were
blinding and disorienting. It was like staring into strobe lights. I made the mistake of looking up at one of them when we crossed the street. Their
intrusive questions never stopped either.
While I fumbled to get my key in the lock, one of the groupies asked Ryan for his autograph, to which he nicely obliged. I was surprised that
several men wanted Ryan’s autograph too. They were prepared with glossy prints of him in hand. I recalled Ryan referring to them as
“autographers” once.
I couldn’t get the door opened fast enough. Ryan and I hurried through the door and he shut it with force to lock the insanity out. I started to panic
slightly when I couldn’t see the keypad properly to turn the alarm off. I had to blink repeatedly until I finally punched the code in. Then I set the alarm
again to be sure to keep the insanity out.
“I’m seeing spots.” It was hard to navigate through the darkness.
He chuckled lightly. “Me too. No matter how many times… one of them still gets me in the eyes.”
Ryan helped me with my coat, which he tossed onto the living room chair.
“I’m sorry for the way I reacted,” he said, looking at me with apologetic eyes. “You need to realize that I only want to protect you.”
“I know. I want to protect you too,” I whispered.
I slid my hands into the space between his shirt and jacket, skimming my fingers up over his shoulders. I didn’t care that we were just hounded