Page 30 of Coffee Break with the Billionaire

I lose track of how long we stay there because Fenella keeps asking questions like she’s truly interested. But eventually, I realize that she’s hovering by me, attaching herself to my side really, when she’s not looking through the scope, because she’sshivering.

“We should go,” I finally say reluctantly. When I’m one with the stars—corny, sure, but that’s how I feel—I never want it to end, but it’s different with Fenella here.

I’m having fun with her. I’m enjoying her company.

Not that Fenella doesn’t have things that would be enjoyable—her company, that’s all I’m thinking about—but I never thought it would bemewho enjoyed it. Her. Spending time with her.

She’s Fenella Carrington, after all.

So I drink in all of her smiles, and excited exclamations. She seems fascinated by the proximity of the ocean, demanding to know what animals we’ve seen and where we saw them.

I think she really wants to jump off the table rock and I explain a few times what she could expect if she did—icy cold water, strong undertow, rocks hidden under the surface, and probable death. Wyatt tells her about the spot near town where the kids swim, jumping off the rocks into a sandy-bottomed bay, and she promises to come back in the summer so he can take her.

I’m not going to hold my breath for that to happen. I may be enjoying her company, but I’m not going to kid myself that there will be a repeat of it.

I do like how she seems excited about so many things. Maybe it’s an act, or maybe Fenella actually lives a sheltered life—as a billionaire.

Giving everyone one last look at Neptune, I pack up the telescope, setting it gently in the case. Wyatt leads us backthrough the trees, the dim solar-powered lights illuminating parts of the path.

“Do you come here often?” Fenella asks, her voice low because we’re walking through the woods at night and it always feels like you should be quiet. Despite this, her question comes across as somewhat seductive. Flirtatious.

She realizes it at the same time and gives a laugh. “That came out wrong.”

“No, it’s good… I do come here often. As much as I can.”

“You really must like stars.”

“I do. Almost as much as I like coffee,” I tease.

“I didn’t… I don’t have anything like that,” she confesses. “Nothing that would bring me out to the woods in the middle of the night.”

“It’s only ten-thirty,” Wyatt informs us.

“Still.” Fenella lifts her hands and the sleeves of my jacket shift and slip down her arms. “Nothing.”

“You must have interests.”

“Yes, but I don’t have a passion.”

“What do you do when you’re not hiding out in the castle?”

“You’ve seen my Instagram. That’s what I do.” She sounds… disappointed almost. “A little bit of everything and not much of anything.” She pauses for a long moment and just when I think she’s finished, she starts again, her words rushed together. “I wanted to work at my father’s company. I think I’d be good at it, really make a difference, but with everything that happened—the video with Tiger going viral and the last video, and thelast—my father said the board doesn’t want me. Not now, anyway. They think I have too high a profile and I need to stay out of sight.”

“Laandia to the rescue, then, huh?” I keep it light so I don’t let on how hearing that makes me feel—how the sadness and disappointment in Fenella’s voice cuts straight to my heart.

I never imagined I would ever feel sympathy for her.

We step out of the woods, into the clearing where the cars are parked. The moon hangs high in the sky and the strong light from the lighthouse lets me see Fenella—and I realize how adorable she looks wearing my coat. Box-like, but lumpy, and the moonlight seems to send sparkles cascading through her long, black hair. “You couldn’t have found a better place to hide out,” I add.

“Gunnar didn’t even hesitate,” Fenella says. “Jumped in his plane and came and got me. And King Magnus made sure no press will be let in, so whatever I do here, I get to do in private.”

“And what are you thinking of doing here?” Now my voice sounds slightly seductive. Flirtatious. “I mean…”

Fenella laughs.

“Or who?” Wyatt cackles, sounding more like a sixty-year-old woman than a sixteen-year-old man-boy.

“Recent bad break-up, remember? I hadn’t given that much thought,” Fenella says with a twist of her lips. “But now that I have my car, I have options. And… maybe people, now, for those options.”

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