“What? It is,” she repeated.

Close your mouth, you must look like a fish. My lips clamped together with a smack. “Oh, that’s nice,” I managed. That thing would have paid for my college tuition, grad school, hell, probably my entire life.

“He owns bigger ones,” Brooke said with a shrug.

“Bigger? Like what? The QE2?” I knew Paxton had money, how else was he paying for his suite—and mine—but there was money and there was…this.

“Actually—”

Paxton shot Brooke another look. “Let’s get you on board,” he said to me, and then took us to the stairs that connected the dock to the yacht. Stairs. Seriously.

“Are you ready, Mr. Wilder?” A uniformed captain walked from the bridge area.

“We are, Mac. Is everything else in order?”

“We’re ready to go, but if you could keep the camera crews off the bridge?”

Right on cue, Bobby came onto the deck, clipboard and all, followed by two cameras and more crew. Fantastic.

“Bobby, keep the cameras off the bridge and out of the crew’s hair,” Paxton ordered as the captain smiled his thanks and headed back to the bridge.

“Firecracker!” Little John said with a giant smile as he came from belowdeck. “You lived! I’m glad to see you’ve made it this far.”

“Hey! How did you…?” The last time I’d seen him was on the tower before Paxton had zipped me on board.

“I’m the advance party. I’m always one step behind, cleaning up the stunt, and then I fly one step ahead to set up the next one.”

“Well, it’s good to see you.”

“You probably want to sit,” Paxton said to me, pointing to one of the oversized chairs that looked like they belonged more in a Pottery Barn catalog than a boat.

I took the seat, and he lounged in the one next to mine, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes as the boat began to move away from shore.

“Okay, what are we doing?” I asked, unable to hold it in one more minute, despite a camera being two feet off my shoulder.

“You didn’t tell her?” Brooke asked from Paxton’s other side.

His grin was slow and incredibly sexy. “Don’t worry, Firecracker. It’ll be worth your while.”

Heat flamed in my cheeks, and I ducked my head, knowing my face was probably as red as Brooke’s bikini top.

“Are we swimming?” I asked, running my hands down my white linen pants, brushing off imaginary sand. They were my favorite pair, light and airy, and I wasn’t in a hurry to remove them.

“In a way,” Paxton answered and pointed over his shoulder. “We’re almost there.”

I looked over the starboard side and my breath abandoned me. “What are they doing?” I asked.

“Flyboards,” he said in my ear. I felt his warmth against my back and called on every piece of my self-control to keep from leaning in to him. Paxton might not be able to help that he was naturally seductive, but I could sure as hell not help him along. “The water is sucked in through the WaveRunner, and then forced out through the hoses under the board. See Nova?”

Landon’s Renegade name was enough to remind me that we were on camera, and I moved away from Paxton as the boat slowed to a stop outside a circle of WaveRunners. “How high is he?”

“About fifty feet.”

“Holy shit.”

“We’re going to get them higher.”

I walked to the deck railing. “Why would you want to?”

“Because it’s never been done.” His face was set in determined lines, but his eyes were bright with excitement. “At least not how we’re going to do it.”

“Who is this ‘we’?” My stomach dropped at the same rate Landon did as he dove under the water, only to pop back up like a dolphin twenty feet away.

“You don’t even want to try?” He had the nerve to look wounded.

“Did you forget the part where I told you I don’t do heights?” I asked, a knot already forming in my chest, tightening with each breath at the thought of doing…that.

“Yeah, but you did the zip-line, so I thought maybe…”

“No.” I shook my head so hard my scalp hurt from where my bun tugged. “There’s zero chance in hell.”

“Oh, come on. I went down into your cave.”

Bobby snorted behind me, and I knew exactly what meaning he was taking out of that…what the cameras just heard.

“Crystal Cave. Bermuda, jackass,” Paxton immediately corrected his production manager, as if he couldn’t stand to have them thinking he’d…well…explored me. I couldn’t decide if I was flattered or pissed off.

Pissed won. “There was nothing dangerous about that.”

“I’ll teach you. It’ll be fun. I brought you a wet suit and everything.”

Great, now he sounded like I’d Grinched his Christmas presents. “Well, I’m sure it will fit Brooke.”

“Oh hell no, I’m not going out there,” she said from her lounge chair, already relaxed with a Kindle in her hand.

“She has the right idea.”

“Don’t you want to conquer your fears?” Paxton asked me, undeterred. He turned me around to face him, pops of electricity rushing from where his hands held my upper arms to stutter my heart.

My eyes darted to the cameras, and he sighed but got the point. He took my hand and led me through a door to go below the deck and into a sumptuous bedroom. I wasn’t done gawking at the ornate woodwork or luscious fabrics before he lit into me. “Are you going to be afraid your whole life? You’re about to pass on a once-in-a-lifetime experience over what? A little anxiety about height? You control the height; you don’t have to do what we’re doing.”