Riley responded immediately, reaching behind his seat to pull out his slim leather jacket. “Put this on.”

I slid into it gratefully, for both the warmth and the chance to hide the shame of my lack of decent clothing. The buttery material felt so supple wrapped around me, like a second skin. I snuggled into it and inhaled its rich fragrance. Mingled with the leather smells were the fresh scents of the ocean. Of Riley. I would never take it off!

“Where are we going?” I managed to ask as my heartbeat finally began to regain control of itself.

“There is something I want to show you. Something I want to share with you.”

I felt shivers despite the warmth of the jacket. He wanted to share with me! It didn’t matter where we were going. I would follow him anywhere. How could I even begin to tell him of the anguish today had been when I thought he was gone forever? Did I dare even try? As I was contemplating it, I shifted in my seat and my leg bumped into a shopping bag on the floor down by my feet. It felt like there was something hard and heavy inside.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“That is for you,” he said without looking at me. Or maybe he was. It was impossible to see his eyes through the dark shades. The thought that he could be looking at me without me even knowing it sent exciting chills across my flesh.

“For me?” I gasped in amazement.

“For you. A token.” He hesitated and then added in a tone that made him sound almost unsure of himself. “A gift.”

He’d bought me a present? My heart started racing again. “What is it?” I asked, brushing my fingers over the paper handles of the bag.

He chuckled and shook his head, his hands twisting the black leather of the steering wheel. “Foolish little thing.”

I felt my cheeks grow hot. Of course, it was a stupid question. I would find out when I opened it. How he could tolerate me when I said such things, let alone like me enough to bring me a present, I could never understand.

I pulled the bag up into my lap. It was heavier than I expected. I reached inside and drew out a black leather-bound book with gilt edges. “Oh…” I breathed. The texture of it felt so rich, almost like it could be alive. There was nothing written on it, so I turned it over and realized I’d had it backward. The front was embossed in filigreed gold leaf and the flourishing script read Le Fantome de l’Opera, Gaston Leroux.

“Oh Riley!” I exclaimed. “It’s beautiful!” I gingerly cracked open the cover and my eyes skimmed the French text on the first pages. My favorite book in its original language!