Evelyn had told him she’d be flying down in the morning, so he took the opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep.

He’d hesitated in asking her to make the drive down with him, though he didn’t know why. Maybe because that was time for Ian and him to catch up and strategize on race stuff. And maybe part of it was his and Evelyn’s relationship—or non-relationship, since that’s what they’d both agreed it was—was still new, and he didn’t want the whole damn team knowing about it. Because once the team knew, it would only be a matter of time before everyone knew. And that meant media involvement, which he’d prefer to keep to a minimum.

But for the next few days, he wanted Evelyn at his house, and in his bed, so he got up and took a quick shower, then dressed and went to the garage, deciding on his ’67

GTO, since it had been a long time since he’d pulled her out for a spin. He folded back the cover, smiling as he smoothed his hand over the sleek black finish. His staff did a great job taking care of his cars while he was on the road, knowing as soon as he came home he’d want to take one—or more—for a ride.

He grabbed the keys and slid into the leather seats, inhaling the sweet smell of eras gone by. When he fired her up, the rumbling engine roared to life, exciting him at the thought of taking the GTO out on the roads for a little action.

Too bad the U.S. had speed limits. With a grin, he slipped on his sunglasses and pulled out onto the street, then hit the highway, letting out the clutch as he gave it some gas.

It was still early, so the sun hadn’t risen high enough to heat him up. Not that he minded, since nothing could be as hot as when he was in his race car. Plus, in the convertible, the wind blew through his hair and his mind went blank. He gripped the steering wheel as he and the GTO became one.

There was nothing that made him happier than being behind the wheel of a car, whether it was competitively or just out for a joyride.

He knew for a fact that driving—racing—was what he was supposed to be doing with his life. Evelyn’s question about law school had made him pause, but only for a second. He was most comfortable, most himself, most at home, behind the wheel.

That’s where he belonged, and that’s where he was going to spend the rest of his life.

The whole law school thing had been born out of guilt because he hadn’t done what his parents—what his father—had wanted him to do.

Funny how that guilt still nagged at him, even after all these years. And he didn’t buy that his father was a changed man. Men like Mitchell Preston didn’t change. They played at changing, so the public would vote for them.

He knew his father better than anyone, knew he was one of the best actors out there. He knew what his dad was capable of—and what he wasn’t capable of.

Shaking off dark thoughts that had him tensing on the wheel, he blew out a breath and took the exit leading to Evelyn’s hotel.

The valet whistled as he came around to Gray’s side.

“GTO? That is one sweet ride.”

Gray pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and waved it at the wide-eyed valet whose name tag read Oscar.

“Oscar, park it like you own it and this’ll be yours when I pick her up.

Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Oscar said. “She’ll be in bubble wrap until you’re ready for her.”

“Thanks. I won’t be long.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Evelyn, who gave him her room number. It didn’t take him long to figure out she’d scored a bungalow down on the beachfront.

Smart woman. He headed down the front steps of the hotel and toward the left. She was waiting for him at the fountain.

“Afraid of taking me to your room?”

She smiled at him. “I’m enjoying the beach way too much to spend much time in my room.”

She looked beautiful, dressed in a pair of shorts and a tank top. He slid his hand in hers. “Then let’s go to the beach.”

She looked down at his jeans and tennis shoes. “You’re hardly dressed for a beach walk.”

“I have stuff in my car.”

“Where are we going?”

“Lots of places. You have a swimsuit?”

“Yes. Let me grab my bag.”

She started to turn away, but he grasped her wrist. “You might want to grab some clothes for tomorrow, too. Just in case you don’t make it back tonight.”

Her brows raised. “Are you intending to kidnap me?”

“The thought occurred to me.”

“All right then. I’ll pack the bag accordingly. You can come with me to my room if you’d like.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just watch the ocean here and wait for you.” If he went to her room, they likely wouldn’t get anything done on his agenda today, and he had a lot of plans.

She gave him a knowing smile. “I’ll be right back then.”

One thing he liked about Evelyn was her efficiency. She was back in about five minutes, a small bag slung over her shoulders. He took the bag from her.

“Nice view.”

“I splurged on my budget a little. Okay, a lot. Normally, I wouldn’t care what kind of hotel room I stayed in, because after a while they all look the same to me. But here?

I love the idea of taking an early morning walk on the beach. So while we’re in Florida, I decided . . . screw it. I’m going to take advantage of every spare second I have to indulge my love of the ocean.”

He laughed as they headed up the stairs toward the front lobby. “I didn’t know you were an ocean lover.”

“Almost all of the places we moved to when I was a kid were landlocked, so any chance I have to be near the water is a thrill for me. I can’t get enough of the beach and the ocean.”

He signaled for Oscar, who nodded and went on the run to retrieve his car. “I actually have a house here.”

She turned to face him. “You do not.”

“I do. I love it here.”

“I’m so jealous.”

“Since we race here twice a year, I’ve grown accustomed to the beach and ocean myself. I’m a big fan.”

“I’ll bet you have a house on the beach, too.”

His lips curved. “I’ll take you to my house later.”

“God, I’m so going to hate you if you have a house on the beach.”

He grinned at her, then heard the rumble of the GTO. Oscar, smart boy that he was, didn’t abuse the privilege of driving it, so it was a tame rumble as he drove it up to the front of the parking area.

“Oh, my God,” Evelyn said. “This is your car?”

“One of them,” Gray said as he held the door for her.

Gray paid Oscar, who grinned and pocketed the money. “Man, it was fun just to drive it and park it. Thanks.”

“My pleasure. Thanks for taking care of her for me.”

He slid in, pulled down his sunglasses, and turned to Evelyn, who was running her fingers over the seats. “I love muscle cars. I might not be as in the know about racing, but I do love muscle cars.” She ran her fingers over the GTO symbol on the dash.

“God, Gray. This car is so sexy.”

He grinned, put it in first, and headed out.

She pulled her sunglasses out of her purse, not seeming to care when he hit third gear and pulled onto the highway, her hair blowing in the breeze. She grabbed a ponytail holder and wound her hair up into it. “Where are we going?”

“Just for a ride along the ocean highway right now. I figured I’d give you a little tour, and give me a chance to blow the dust out of her carburetors.”

She dragged her gaze away from the view of the ocean and to him. “One of the cars. So this isn’t your only one.”

“No.”

“How many do you have?”

“Right now I have six.”

“Good lord. I’ve got to see them.”

He loved a woman who got excited over a muscle car. “You will. But first, we’ll hit the water.”

She looked out the windshield with a grin on her face. “Fantastic.”

As they drove, he stole glances at Evelyn. She never once complained about her hair blowing or the hot sun beating down on her. She tilted her head back, laid her arm on the door, and watched the ocean go by.

He was in one of his favorite cars, with a beautiful woman occupying the seat next to him. What more could he ask for?

They drove for about forty-five minutes, then he pulled into a marina, parked the car in a corner slot far away from the traffic. He gave a wave to the parking attendant, Walter, who he knew would give an eagle eye to his baby, making sure no one would park next to her. He grabbed their bags and left his keys at the desk. Walter nodded from his spot on the high perch of the lot.

“I thought we were going to hit the beach,” Evelyn said.

He slipped his hand into hers as they headed down the wooden deck. “We will. Be patient.”

He led her to the boat that was parked toward the end of the slip.

“Seriously? You have a yacht?” she asked as he helped her on board.

“It’s a boat.”

“It’s a yacht. I know the difference.”

“Whatever.” He handed her the bags. “You want to store these down in the galley while I get us ready to take off?”

She took the bags from him. “I suppose this is your . . . boat.”

“Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes, then headed down to the galley. He got them untied and pushed off, then started the engine, easing through as they headed out. Evelyn came up and stood next to him while he pushed past the warning zone, then gave it some gas.

“You might want to take a seat.”

She grabbed the chair next to his and he cranked the speed up, the bow rising as he churned through the waves. He was damn happy to be on the sea again. During the racing season he didn’t get many days off, and very rarely got to come home and play with his toys. He was glad for Evelyn’s company, for an excuse to take the boat out today.

He found the isolated cove and, after carefully checking where he was, dropped the anchor.

Evelyn had gone downstairs and changed into a sinful, skimpy red bikini he couldn’t wait to get her out of. They climbed out of the boat and waded to shore, tossing their bags on the beach.

“Feel like snorkeling?”

“I’d love to.”

He grabbed the gear out of his bag and they hit the water.

Normally when he came to town for this break in his schedule, he’d bring the boat out, kick back, and do some fishing, or just idle and clear his head. If there was an available woman, he might drag her along, but usually he preferred the time alone to rest and regroup.

As they swam along the surface of the cove, Evelyn grasped his hand and drew him to look at something several times, whether it was one of the many colorful fish that inhabited this area, or the coral that lived around the cove. He could tell from the wide smile on her face and the way she excitedly tugged him along that she was pleased.

When they came back to shore, she threw her arms around him.

“It’s beautiful down there, Gray. Thank you.”

He slipped an arm around her wet body and drew her against him. “You’re welcome. It’s one of my favorite spots.”

She grabbed towels and set them down to sit on, then grabbed his hands and he sat next to her.

“I can see why. The colors of the coral are amazing. Did you know coral are an endangered species? Overfishing and environmental pollution of our waters have had a severe detrimental effect on more than sixty percent of the world’s coral reefs. This could be disastrous to our entire ecosystem.”

He cocked a brow. “Something you’re passionate about, obviously?”

“Yes. I’ve told you I love the beach and the water, and I wasn’t kidding. I’ve lobbied for laws to be passed to limit overfishing and to post sanctions on those companies that leave behind nets and equipment that can harm the coral.”

He swept his hand over her hair. “Maybe it’s something you can talk to my father about sponsoring.” He wanted to laugh at that thought, but he could see she was serious about it and didn’t want to puncture her balloon of hope.

She cocked her head to the side. “Gray, your father chairs a committee on environmental pollution. It’s one of his primary causes.”

“Seriously.”

“Yes. He and I have lobbied hard for legislation to protect coral reefs, as well as other key environmental legislation. He’s written groundbreaking papers on the effects of global warming, overfishing, and the pollution of our waters. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

He didn’t know that, and it didn’t sound at all like something his father would be the slightest bit interested in. “Mitchell Preston cares about the environment? Since when?”

She sighed. “I told you. He’s changed. Maybe you should check out the other issues he’s passionate about.”

Gray still found it hard to believe his father cared about anything other than what would serve his interests or line his pockets. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Anyway, this area here is a slice of paradise.”

“It’s also a protected area. Fishing isn’t allowed, nor is recreation.”

“Really? To protect the coral?”

“Yes.”

She looked around. “So . . . we shouldn’t be here, either.”

“It’s all right. I’m the one who worked to get new coral planted in this area. It had been damaged by those very things you talked about—fishing and environmental pollution.”