Sleeping With Her Enemy(8)

“What are we doing?” Amy asked, trailing behind him as they lined up for the next boat. It was late enough that the Canada Day hordes making the crossing were already across. He glanced at his watch. The fireworks would start soon.

She pouted as he paid for her ticket and flashed his own pass. “I thought you were taking me home.”

“I am.”

Her eyebrows shot up in an adorable caricature of surprise. “You live on the island? I thought you had a condo on Front Street.”

“I do. That’s my public-facing house. I actually live on Ward’s Island.”

She snorted. “Your public-facing house? What are you, the White House?”

Ah, there was the prickly Amy he knew. Maybe she was sobering up. His dick stirred at the thought.

“Having to ferry back and forth can be a pain, and they don’t run all night. And the island houses are tiny. So I keep the downtown condo for if I work late or have parties. But the island is home.”

Her phone pinged again, which it had been doing since they left the bar. She looked at the incoming text and scowled.

“Besides, they’ll never find you there.”

She looked up from her phone. “That is a very good point.” Then she grinned. “And anyway, I’ve always wanted to see the islands.”

“You’ve never been to the islands? Not even Centre Island?” he said, naming the biggest of the connected islands that dotted Toronto’s inner harbor, the one with the amusement park, public beaches, and bike rentals that drew crowds of day-trippers from the mainland.

“Nope!” she said. “I always wanted to go, but Mason’s med school schedule was impossible.”

Damn. Dax wasn’t the relationship type, but if he had been, he couldn’t imagine letting a little thing like a busy schedule get in the way of giving his woman what she wanted.

The incoming ferry had docked, and the line began to move as the handful of passengers bound for the residential Ward’s Island boarded. He gestured for her to precede him. “Well, your wish is my command.”

“This is turning out to be the best jilting I ever had,” she said over her shoulder, forcing him to drag his eyes up from her swaying ass, pert and encased in the shimmery fabric of her flapper dress. The fringe edging the criminally short skirt started just where her thighs would meet her ass and hung to midthigh. And, oh, those legs. It was cliché, but they went on for miles. A pair of strappy silver high heels clicked as she walked up the gangplank.

His own phone buzzed, which was probably a blessing, because it saved him from having to battle the insane urge to bend her over the railing of the ferry and have his way with her.

Cassie says you’re with Amy.

It was his friend Jack. Otherwise known as Amy’s boss. And in some ways, Jack was like her big brother. He’d mentored her rise through Winter Enterprises, and his girlfriend, Cassie, was tight with Amy. Before Dax could type an answer, he had another incoming.

Don’t you dare touch her, you asshole.

He sighed and texted back.

I’m just saving her from herself. She’s fine.

I don’t think I’m making myself clear. Do NOT touch Amy. I will throw you off the 49th floor myself.

He wanted to howl his frustration. Forget bending Amy over the railing—he’d be better served using it to bash his head against.

I’m not planning to. The bride is safe with me.

He glanced up to make sure that was, in fact, true. The boat had cleared the dock and begun its fifteen-minute journey across the harbor. He hadn’t been paying attention, and she was still at least a little bit tipsy. Moving to stand beside her where she leaned against the railing, he noticed she was shivering. No wonder; the scrap of fabric she called a dress barely covered her. And he had only a T-shirt and jeans on, so he had nothing to give her.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, turning to him with shining eyes as she gestured at the skyline, skyscrapers all lit up like vertical jewels in the newly fallen darkness.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “You’d think it would get old, but it doesn’t.”

“It’s funny. It’s the same old city. Same old skyline I’ve seen a thousand times, but it seems different from here, somehow.”

She’d hit on something he’d always felt. “It’s amazing to see it from the edge of Ward’s Island. It’s so quiet there, unlike at Centre Island. All you can hear is the lapping of the waves. And yet there’s North America’s third-largest city, right there.”

Her shivering had become more pronounced, so he moved closer. Standing behind her, he reached around and put his hands on the railing on either side of hers, encircling her and using his body to shield her from the wind but taking care not to get too close.