other things—like intimacy.
I took the empty seat next to him, not knowing how to reply. When I tightened the seatbelt, my stomach rumbled again.
“Hungry?” he asked with a wry grin.
My gaze dropped to his lips. “Yes.”
He laughed and pressed the button over his head. A moment later, the flight attendant in her smart, navy-blue uniform appeared.
“Sir?” she asked.
“We’re ready for lunch,” he said. “Thank you.”
She nodded and then disappeared up front to her private domain.
“How long is the flight?” I asked.
“About twelve and a half hours. Shetland is farther north than the mainland of Scotland.” He picked up his phone, tapped a few buttons, and then showed me a map across the screen.
“Lerwick is here,” he pointed to the town along the eastern coast.
“You live in Lerwick?” I asked. He paused and I looked away from the screen to his face. “Hadrian?”
Hadrian cleared his throat. “No. I don’t live in Lerwick. I live on an island which is a few hours away by yacht. About ten minutes by helicopter.”
“Are we taking a boat or a helicopter?”
“Depends,” he said with a wry smile. “Have you ever been on a yacht?”
I shook my head. “I haven’t been on a helicopter, either.”
“We’ll take my yacht. The view from deck when we come into the harbor is…well, you’ll see.”
“What’s it like?” I asked. “Your home.”
“It overlooks the ocean. It’s built partly into the side of a mountain.”
“Sounds like a fortress,” I said lightly.
He peered at me and then nodded. “That’s exactly what it is.”
I swallowed a bout of nerves that fluttered in my belly. I looked out the window so I could stare into the clouds, so Hadrian couldn’t see the confusion I was feeling.
Who was Hadrian Rhys…and why did he need a fortress?
The hours of travel bled together. I dozed a few more times, only to wake up and find Hadrian studying me. When he wasn’t engaging me in conversation, he was on his phone.
The man never seemed to tire. He got up long enough to stretch his legs and make a private phone call before returning to his seat.
“Can I ask you a question?” I queried.
“Sure.”
“The first night we were together…”
“Aye?”
“You spoke in a foreign language when you were…”
He smiled softly. “When I was what?”
“Coming,” I finished, wondering at my bout of sudden shyness.
Shyness should have no place between a courtesan and her lover.
“It was Norwegian,” he answered.
“You speak Norwegian?”
“Fluently. Along with French, Italian, and Shetlandic. Do you speak any languages?
“French and Italian,” I admitted. “Shetlandic? I’ve never even heard of that.”
“Shetland has both Scottish and Norse influence. So, the language is made up of Scot dialect and the Norn language—which is now extinct.” He shrugged.
Shrugged. Like it was nothing.
I looked at him in awe. “You’re not just a pretty face, are you Hadrian Rhys?”
“No more than you are, Eden Smith.”
I saw Lerwick from the back of a Mercedes that drove us to the marina where Hadrian’s yacht waited for us. It was past dinner time and my stomach growled in protest.
“I haven’t forgotten to feed you,” he assured me with a grin. “I just wanted to wait until we were on my yacht. Can you wait a few more minutes?”
I nodded.
“Do you like lobster?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said.
“You think so? Have you never had lobster?”
I shrugged and looked out the window again into the night sky. “There wasn’t a lot of money growing up to have lobster.”
The admittance tumbled out of my mouth and my heart pounded with sudden nerves. I hoped Hadrian didn’t drag me down a lane of my past, asking questions about me.
He took my hand and gave it a squeeze. “You’ll try the lobster—and if you love it, I’ll make sure you have it whenever you want.”
“You really won’t spare any expense, will you?”
“If something makes you happy and I can provide it, then I will.”
The car stopped in front of the marina and a man in a stretch golf cart greeted us.
“Mr. Rhys. Right this way.”
The car driver placed our luggage on the back of the cart and then we were off, headed through a small gate down to the illuminated docks. We drove for a minute or two and then the golf cart came to a stop in front of a massive yacht. It was lit from above and below with well-placed nautical lighting. I could see the hulls through the water at the rear of the yacht.
My mouth gaped. “This is yours?”
“It’s a power catamaran, and yes, it’s mine.”
Hadrian took my hand