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She absorbed every detail, astonished that even fifty-plus years after its heyday the area could still seem edgy and exciting. But as the muscles in Luke’s back tensed, she wondered if that edgy feeling came from the neighbourhood or simply from the thrill of being on Luke Broussard’s bike as they rode through Haight-Ashbury.
Unlike Ashling, she’d never been the cool girl at school, or anywhere else for that matter, but she felt like the cool girl now. For one night only.
As they left the born-again hippies of Haight-Ashbury behind, the bike climbed up a hill that cut through a lush, surprisingly untamed park.
Luke slowed the bike to a stop when they reached the top and pulled off his helmet, then glanced over his shoulder. ‘Hop off. I’ve got something to show you.’
‘Okay...’ She scrambled off the bike. Her pulse started to pound again as he unclipped her helmet and hooked it over the bike handles with his own.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘You’ll see,’ he said, sending her a sultry smile that had all her pheromones going haywire again. How did he do that? Was the guy a sex whisperer, or something? Because she’d never felt this giddy before in her entire life.
She stored the thought away as he gripped her hand and led her past a sign that announced the park as the oldest in San Francisco. They took a path that led into the greenery.
‘Should you leave the helmets on the bike like that? Won’t they get stolen?’ she asked, trying to find some semblance of her usual practicality.
He sent her a wry grin, as if she’d said something cute, then shrugged. ‘We won’t be long—but anyhow I’ve got others.’
Well, of course he has. The man’s a billionaire, Cassie, for goodness’ sake.
She tried not to fixate on the heat now running riot through her body as they reached a clearing. Then he gripped her shoulders, stood behind her and twisted her round.
‘Check that out,’ he said.
But her breath had already caught in her lungs.
The city was laid out before them in a carpet of lights, just starting to wink on as night fell. The staggering view spread across the dark expanse of the bay, where the white lights of the Golden Gate Bridge shone like a runway leading to the opposite shore.
‘Wow!’ she murmured, so awed and humbled that all she could feel was the clamour of her heartbeat in her throat. ‘It’s so beautiful. You must adore living here,’ she managed, desperately trying to keep talking to curtail the foolish spurt of emotion.
No man had ever shown her something so magnificent. And she’d only just met him.
But why had he?
‘I don’t live in the city,’ he said, his voice so low and husky she could feel it rippling down her back and detonating in her abdomen.
‘You don’t?’ She twisted to see his face, illuminated by the glow from the sunset. ‘But why not? It’s wonderful.’
‘I keep an apartment here,’ he said. ‘But it’s not my home.’
‘Where is your home?’ she asked, suddenly desperate to know more about him. Much more. And knowing that it had nothing whatsoever to do with her report, because she’d stopped thinking about what Temple had asked her to do a thousand giddy heartbeats ago.
‘I own an island off the Oregon coast.’
He frowned, and she got the impression he hadn’t meant to tell her. But before she had a chance to worry about whether she had probed too much he took her hand again and led her back down the path they’d just climbed.
‘Where are we going now?’ she asked, feeling like a child—carefree and excited—which was rather ironic, given that as a child she’d always been the opposite...weighed down by worries and anxiety.
‘I’ve got something else I think you’ll enjoy,’ he said, without revealing much at all.
She climbed back aboard the bike, her heartbeat skipping and jumping as he put her helmet on again. She clung to him, feeling like a pro now at leaning on the turns as they headed off into the dusk.
The bike made its way back down the hillside, winding through steep residential streets lined with San Francisco’s signature bay-fronted wooden terraced houses, eventually coming to a busy two-lane road that headed through another park.
As they travelled down towards the bay, dodging cars and lorries in the snarled evening traffic, it occurred to her that she’d never allowed herself to be led anywhere before now. But as she clung to Luke’s broad frame, and inhaled his clean, masculine scent, the thrill of rebellion intoxicated her.
Darkness descended as they entered a traffic tunnel, and when they emerged, her heartbeat slammed into her tonsils.
