Page 5 of Riding with the Secret Billionaire

"So generous," she replies, rolling her eyes as she opens her door.

I watch her walk toward the entrance, her stride confident despite those ridiculous heels.I normally maintain strict professional distance with clients, but something about Trish Walker makes it difficult to remember why those boundaries exist.The way she challenges me, sees through my carefully constructed façade, and notices details most people overlook.

It's refreshing. And dangerous.

When she returns, I'm waiting with two cups of coffee.

"Black, one sugar," I say, offering her one."Saw you drinking it in the terminal while you were waiting."

She takes the cup, surprise flickering across her face."You were watching me before I approached your truck?"

"Force of habit," I shrug, not elaborating.

"Of course, it is," she murmurs, but there's amusement in her voice rather than annoyance.She takes a sip, nodding appreciatively."Good coffee. You have good taste, at least."

As we get back on the road, I grow increasingly aware of her presence beside me, the way she tucks one leg under herself, the faint scent of her perfume,the casual way she gestures with her hands when making a point.It's been a long time since anyone's captured my attention this way, and even longer since I've allowed it.

"So where exactly is our first overnight stop?" she asks as the sun begins to set, painting the horizon in fiery oranges andgolds.

"A small town called Heartstone in Missouri," I reply, changing lanes to pass a slow-movingtruck."I've booked rooms at a place called the Nighty Night Bed andBreakfast."

"Rooms? Plural?" She turns to face me, eyebrowraised."I thought the rule was I sleep when you sleep, like we're joined at the hip orsomething."

"Adjacent rooms," I clarify. "I'll be able to hear if there's any trouble, but you'll have yourprivacy."

"So thoughtful," she says with mocksweetness."And here I thought you were going to handcuff me to the bed to make sure I didn't run off in thenight."

The image her words conjure sends a jolt of heat through me that I immediatelysuppress."Don't temptme."

Her eyes widen slightly, and I realize how the wordssounded.

"That was a joke," I add, though the expression on her face suggests she's not entirelyconvinced.

"Was it, though?" she challenges, her voice droppingslightly."Because you strike me as someone who likes being in control,Jake.Maybe a little toomuch."

The directness of her observation catches me offguard.Most people dance around it, intimidated by my size ordemeanor.Not Trish. She sees it and calls it out withouthesitation.

"Control keeps people safe," I sayfinally."Especially in unfamiliarsituations."

"And is that what I am toyou?An unfamiliar situation that needscontrolling?"

I glance at her, finding her dark eyes fixed on me. My grip tighten on the steeringwheel."You're certainlyunfamiliar."

"But not unpleasant?" There's a hint of vulnerability beneath herboldness.

"No," I admit. "Not unpleasant atall."

A small smile plays at the corner of hermouth."Good to know, CaptainControl.Good toknow."

As darkness falls completely, we settle into a comfortable rhythm of conversation andsilence.She tells me more about her friend's wedding, about growing up in Toronto, and about herwork.I share carefully edited stories from my security background, nothing classified or identifying, just enough to satisfy hercuriosity.

And all the while, I'm acutely aware of a tension building between us that has everything to do with the way she challengesme. It makes me want to push back, just to see how sheresponds.

It's going to be a long drive toNevada.

3

TRISH

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