“Let’s look at what you’re made of, Riley. Fame.” She holds up a finger. “Wealth.” Another finger. “People at your beck and call.” As she lifts a third finger, her eyes drop to the protein bar and water in my hand. She wrinkles her nose. “You and I aren’t just from different worlds. We’re from different universes. And I won’t pretend to be okay with you invading mine and bringing all your garbage with you.”
Folding my arms, I take three slow breaths to help me keep my own frustration at bay. She doesn’t know me. Something about me makes her think I’m a threat, and whatever it is, her fear of it runs deep. But we’re going to be stuck together for the next six days, and that’s more than enough time to change her mind about me.
Does her approval matter in the grand scheme of my life? Not at all. We’re going to be in each other’s lives for barely a week. But her dislike sits dark and heavy in my soul, and I worry that it’s going to fester unless I can help heal Donovan’s own festering wounds. Show her that she can trust me.
“No garbage,” I say calmly. “I’m here to learn.”
She scoffs. “It takes more than muscle to make it through a rapid, Riley.”
“Then it’s a good thing I’ll be learning from the best, isn’t it?” Offering a smirk that makes her eyes flash with irritation, I step past her and out the side door, remembering too late that the yard is full of people.
Right behind Janie is a guy somewhere in his twenties, and his jaw drops in recognition within seconds of meeting my gaze. It’s the guy next tohimwho alerts the rest of the group. “Holy crap, it’s Derek Riley!”
Chapter Seven
Donovan
MaybeIshouldeaseup.
It’s not a thought I usually have, especially when it comes to men, but as I finish strapping the last waterproof box to one of the rafts, my eyes stray to Derek for the fiftieth time since the company bus dropped us off at the Potash boat ramp downstream from Moab.
He’s asleep. Propped against a tree while his faithful bodyguard, Hunter, glares at anyone who gets too close. It can’t be comfortable, the way Derek’s chin rests on his chest like that, but he’s been out for at least twenty minutes. I was too worked up to pay attention before, but he looks exhausted, which probably explains his bad mood.
My whole “I don’t like anything about you” speech might have contributed to that too.
I slip the end of the woven strap under itself just below the buckle and pull it through, creating half a knot for added security, then I hop from the boat to the ramp to make sure we have all the gear secure and ready to go before I go over safety protocols. But mostly I’m stalling; I’ll have to wake Derek up so wecan be on our way.
Farah comes over to stand next to me as I pretend to check the ramp for loose gear, bumping her shoulder into mine. “I still feel like I’m dreaming,” she whispers, her dark eyes locked on Derek.
“How can you see past the stars in your eyes?” I ask with a scoff. “He’s not that special.”
“Are you kidding? He’s literally the sexiest man in the world.”
“Subjective.”
“He’s worth like two billion dollars.”
I wrinkle my nose. “More like eight hundred million.” I hate that I know that.
“Same difference! That’s eight hundred million more dollars than I have. And he’s the nicest person I’ve ever met.”
“Highly debatable,” I mutter, though my argument falls flat. He was brusque with me, yes, but he introduced himself to several of the other guests with a warm smile and a friendly handshake before confirming with his assistant that all the NDA forms were signed. As he climbed onto the bus and took a seat at the back with his bodyguard, he greeted Farah and Mason, another guide, with the same enthusiasm he showed everyone else.
“He’s just so…” Farah sighs. “If I didn’t think of you like a sister, I would hate you for getting to be the one he shadows.”
The only reason I’m not happily passing him off to her, aside from the fact that Farah will not hide her interest no matter how much she should, is because I get the feeling Derek would riot if I tried. Well, notriot. He’s too carefully controlled to get emotional, even if that emotion is anger. But I can see him retracting his offer to pay Spencer an obscene amount of money if things don’t go his way.
Supposedly Janie is going to handle all the money stuff while we’re on the river, just like she’ll do with Chuck, but there’s always a chance that Derek has been lying through his teeth this whole time and doesn’t plan on paying anyone anything. Thankfully, Spencer’s smart enough not toissue any refunds to the other guests until he has Derek’s money in his bank.
At least, I think he is.
“He looks like a little puppy,” Farah says, sighing again as she presses her hands to her cheeks. “Who knew Derek Riley was so adorable?”
“Pretty much everyone,” I mutter, though ‘adorable’ is not the word I would use for the man’s sharp jawline and broad shoulders. “I hope he’s not planning to sleep for the whole trip.”
“He must be so tired! I heard he never has days off because he’s either filming or promoting something. I can’t imagine what that would be like.”
I can, but there’s little point in saying that. Unlike Farah, who only does a tour every other week, I rarely have days off. Just like Derek. Rivers are my happy place, but I know how hard it can be to never have some time to breathe. How it feels to hit that point where you think you might collapse before you manage the next breath.
