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spent a lot more time in the tabloids than Analisa did. Her father had some kind of agreement or something with the paparazzi that kept her out of the spotlight for the most part. Especially since she’d gotten sick. The first time.
     
    As they followed her father into the main living space of the house—which was a kitchen, dining room and living room, all in one open area, mostly surrounded by glass walls that maximized the view of the beach and the Pacific Ocean—Nolan slowed until he was barely moving.
     
    “I—uh—you don’t need—Jesus, you’re right on the water.”
     
    Donovan smiled and looked out the window. “Yeah. I love that view.”
     
    “How could you not? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
     
    Donovan turned. “You’ve never been to the beach?”
     
    “No, I have. I’ve ridden a ways up the PCH a couple of times. But it’s different being in a house and looking at that. It seems bigger, I guess. It’s impressive.”
     
    “I agree. There’s a biker bar down the road. You know it?”
     
    “Yeah. It’s pretty famous. I’ve stopped in.”
     
    “Don’t ever take my daughter there.”
     
    Analisa face went instantly hot with embarrassment. “Daddy!”
     
    But Nolan just cocked his head and gave her father a quizzical look. “Okay. Hadn’t planned on it.”
     
    Her father smiled at them both. Not the junket smile, not his normal smile. Something more enigmatic. Like he was in on a joke they didn’t know. “Just setting the parameters. Can I get you a drink?”
     
    Nolan turned and looked back the way they’d come, toward the front door, like he was feeling nostalgic for it. Then he turned to Analisa and gave her a little smile. She smiled back, hoping she was being encouraging. She wanted him to stay.
     
    And now she wanted to figure out a way to get him to take her to that bar.
     
    She must have been encouraging enough, because when Nolan looked back at her father, he said. “Beer, if you got it.”
     
    “I do. Fat Tire okay?”
     
    “Yeah. That’s fine.”
     
    “Good—have a seat—or look around, if you like. Dinner won’t be long. Do you eat shark?”
     
    Nolan laughed. “I have no idea. But I’m game.”
     
    Donovan smiled. “Good man.” He went off to the far side of the space, where Marica was cooking, and opened the big Sub-Zero fridge.
     
    Raking his hair back from his face, Nolan leaned over to Analisa and muttered, “I think maybe I know how you felt jumping out of a plane.”
     
    It made her laugh, and she turned toward him—oh, he was close. She could see a little bit of dark stubble on his cheeks and upper lip. His lips were nice, really nice.
     
    Refocusing, she said, “He’s a good guy, I promise. He’s just a guy with a job. That’s it.”
     
    “Yeah…no. He’s not. But I can play it that way.”
     
    “Sorry if you’ve been taken hostage.” She knew he hadn’t planned on spending much time here.
     
    “It’s okay. I’m glad to stay. I mean, hell. Once-in-a-lifetime stuff, right?”
     
    Not for her. This was her everyday life. But she understood. Before she could say so, her dad was back with beers for him and Nolan and a lemon water for her.
     
    She guessed it was time to sit around and make polite conversation.
     
     
    ~oOo~
     
     
    “It really is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
     
    Analisa walked up behind Nolan and looked out over the vista that had spurred him to make such a sweeping statement. It was just the ocean; she had been looking at it her whole life.
     
    But now she tried to see what he was seeing—the most beautiful thing ever.
     
    It was dark—they’d lingered over dinner, having a good conversation. Nolan was nothing like she’d expected him to be. He was smart and well-spoken, and he kept up with current events—and not just gossip and industry news, but world events. Politics. He had opinions and he was able to share them and discuss without being an asshole about it. He