New York Billionaires Series

“No,” he says, “I don’t.”

“Anonymity. I get it.”

As he opens the latch for the Ferris wheel, he gives me a dark look that sends shivers down my spine. The guy manning the attraction motions for Danielle and Joshua to have a seat in their carriage, and the kids bundle in, chatting the whole way.

“I’ll be right behind you,” Tristan tells them. “Call out if you need anything at all and sit still in the car.”

“I know, Dad,” Joshua calls back.

Tristan extends an arm to our carriage. “After you.”

My hands grip the elephant tight. It’s just a Ferris wheel, Freddie. And I personally read the amusement fair’s safety guidelines before I booked them. What can go wrong?

I step into the carriage, sitting down on the cold metal bench. It wobbles precariously as Tristan follows me in, folding his long legs into the space. His thigh presses against mine in the tight confines of the carriage.

The attendant closes the metal latch behind him, stepping back. “Everyone ready?”

No, I think. How do I get off this?

“Yes,” Tristan calls back.

The mechanics churn into action and our carriage swings with the sudden jolt of movement. I grip the metal bar in front of us and focus on the heat of him next to me, evident even through the thick fabric of our coats.

“This turned out really well,” he says. “You’ve done a great job.”

“Thank you.” We start our ascent, the people and stands beneath us shrinking with every inch we rise.

I close my eyes.

“Now you’ve met Joshua.”

I nod, my words emerging through clenched teeth. “He’s lovely.”

Tristan clears his throat. “I don’t talk about my family at work. Not at parties either.”

“I understand. Anonymity, and all that.”

“Yes.” He shifts in the carriage and it rocks beneath us. I press my lips into a tight line.

There’s no way I’m opening my eyes until we’re safely back on the ground.

“Freddie? Are you all right?”

“Yeah, absolutely.”

“You’ve gone completely white.” His voice lowers, and when he speaks again, it’s closer to my ear. “You don’t like heights.”

“Not a member of the fan club, no.” One breath in, one breath out. That’s all I have to do.

“Why on earth did you come up here with me?”

I give the stuffed animal in my grip a little shake. “Your son asked me to guard his elephant.”

“Freddie…” His voice is frustrated, and so, so close. I have to open my eyes to peek.

He’s only inches away, and watching me with a tiny furrow in his brow. I focus on his eyes. “It’s okay,” I murmur. “I just have to focus on not panicking.”

“That’s right.” He’s quiet for a beat, but then he tugs off a leather glove and pries one of my hands off the elephant. I grip his fingers tight and close my eyes again. His skin is warm and slightly rough against mine, my hand disappearing inside his completely. “It’s only two laps.”

“Two?”

“It’ll be okay. Just breathe, okay?”

“I’m breathing.” I lean my head back against the seat and tighten my grip on his hand. “Breathing is the only thing I can do right now.”

“Then let’s just focus on that,” he murmurs, but I don’t do what I’m told. I focus on his hand and his voice, too. It’s deep and calming, like crushed velvet poured into a dark cup of espresso.

“Talk to me?”

“All right. So… elephants are your favorite animal. I can now chalk that up to the list of things I know about you.”

“Must be a rather short list,” I murmur.This content provided by N(o)velDrama].[Org.

“Not that short. I’ve made several observations.”

Despite myself, my lips tug. “I’m sure I don’t want to hear them all.”

“Well, not all of them are fit for polite conversation. Doesn’t mean they don’t still make the list. It’s a mental one. Don’t worry.”

“I won’t.”

“I’d say the view is amazing, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to open your eyes right now.”

I screw them shut tighter. “I’m pretending we’re on the ground.”

“Keep pretending.”

My hair lifts in the breeze and I lean into him, as if I can hide from the height. If it’s windy, we must be at the very top.

Don’t think about it don’t think about it don’t think about it.

I hear the rustle of another glove being removed, and then my hand is held in both of his. The sensation anchors me. “You’re okay,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

A deep breath in. A deep breath out.

My fingers tighten around his. “Thank you. This is… mildly humiliating.”

“It’s not. Besides, you wouldn’t be up here if it wasn’t for me.”