I decide to take a walk. It is a cold, bright morning. The air is clean and crisp. If I am lucky, I might come upon the deer herd. I walk down the road, past the tennis courts. In the distance, near a massive spreading oak tree I see them. Some are sitting quietly and the others are standing around grazing at the frost covered grass. I step off the road and start walking steadily towards them.

Some of them turn to watch me. They flick their ears and keep their gaze on me. I can see they are curious and a little wary, but they are unafraid. Slowly I go closer. One of them starts trotting away and a few follow him. I realize that I am not going to be able to go much closer. I would have loved to have gotten really close, and maybe even touch them.

I wish I had brought some food for them. 

I am so focused on the deer that a sound behind me makes me jump and whirl around in fear. Thorne is heading towards me. My heartrate doesn’t slow down but picks up. Somehow out here in the open land he seems bigger and more intimidating all in black, jeans, T-shirt, and leather jacket. My whole body feels uneasy. I turn back towards the deer and wait for him to arrive next to me. I watch the deer all raise their heads and watch us.

“Want to feed the deer?” he murmurs. 

I look up at him. The sunlight is in his eyes, making him squint and the grey between his stubby eyelashes appear like glossy gray glass. “Yes, I’d love to.”

He pulls a brown paper bag from inside his jacket. 

“What is in it?”

“Strawberries,” he says shaking the bag.

“They like strawberries.”

“Yup. You can’t just feed them anything in winter.”

“Oh.”

He takes a strawberry out and immediately the most daring deer starts approaching us. He stops about twenty feet away. Thorne throws the strawberry close to him. The deer moves towards the fruit, stops, looks at us and finally lowers his head and eats the fruit. Thorne flings another fruit about five feet closer. The deer moves towards the fruit. Other deer have now come to where the first deer stood.

Thorne makes a clicking, calling sound with his tongue and throws another strawberry about eight feet away from us. “It’s a buck.”

“Oh, my God! He’s coming,” I whisper excitedly. He is already so close I can see each individual strand of the fur on his body.

“Come on, big boy,” Thorne encourages.

“Is he the Alpha?”

“Not sure, but he certainly is the bravest one.”

The deer comes and takes the strawberry. Next Thorne throws one about three feet away. As the deer comes closer he fishes another fruit out of his bag and holds it out.

“Want another one?”

To my delight the deer trots up to him and takes it directly from his hand.

“Good boy,” Thorne says and offers another strawberry. The dear takes it immediately.

“That is amazing,” I gasp at that. “Can I give him one?” I ask.

“Of course.” He stretches the bag out to me.

I take a fruit and hold it out by the stem. My heart is beating fast. The deer is actually a lot bigger up close than he looks from far away. He hesitates, his nostrils sniffing the air, then he comes up and quickly takes the strawberry from me.

“Oh, Thorne, I felt his lips,” I say, with an awed laugh.

“Nice,” Thorne says, but he is looking at me in a strange way.

I realize that I could be showing Thorne the side of me that I don’t want him or anyone else to see. I compose my face. “Can I have another one?”

He holds the bag out to me. “Take the bag, but throw some to the other boys too. Look at them. They want some, but they are just too timid”

“Okay.” I throw some to them and watch them eat the fruit, but my real love is for the brave boy who dared come so close to us. I wish I could pet him, but he has a substantial rack, and I can imagine how badly I would be injured if he rammed me.

When the strawberries are all gone, the deer moves away. I stare at it longingly, but I am intensely aware of Thorne standing next to me.

“Do you want to see the lake?” he asks.

“There is a lake?”

“Uh … huh.”

“If you have nothing better to do.” I don’t know why I said that. I’m not usually such a sap.

“I have nothing better to do,” he says quietly. “Come on.”

He sets up a brisk pace and we walk in silence. Just over the rise we come upon the lake, surrounded by trees. It is wonderfully peaceful. Sunlight bounces off the water, and swans and ducks swim serenely on the sparkling surface. It is very, very beautiful. How lucky he is? He owns all this.

“You’re a very lucky man, Throne.”

He frowns. “I never thought about it, but I suppose I am.”

“You never thought about it?”

“No. I spend so many hours working I never have time to enjoy any of this.”

“Really? Seems such a shame. To have all this and never appreciate it.”

He glances at me. “You are right. I need to hit my off button more often.”

“Where is it? I’ll do it for you?” I offer.

He laughs.

I stare up at him. When he laughs like this he is indescribably splendid. I watch him closely. I want to remember this moment. One day he will be gone, but I will have this enchanted moment by the lake. I will this moment by the lake.

“What is it?” he asks, suddenly frowning.

“Nothing,” I say quickly.

“Hmmm.”

“There is a boat. Do you row?”

“Nah. I’ve never been on the lake.”

“I’ve always wanted to be on a rowing boat. Can we have a go?”

He stares at me. “You really want to?”

“Yes, of course.”

“It won’t be too cold for you?”

“No. I think I am secretly an Inuit. I never feel the cold.”

He helps me into the boat. To be honest it is quite small and rickety and a little voice at the back of my mind does worry that we might end up in the freezing water, but I know I can never say no to this experience. One day when I my lying on my death bed I will remember, I rowed on a lake on a bright cold morning with an elusive billionaire called Thorne Blackmore.

Thorne’s powerful arms row us to the middle of the lake. I look around me. It is exactly what I thought it would be. Magical. I gaze into his face. “Thank you for this,” I whisper.

“No, thank you, Chelsea. My life is staring at computer screens. If you had not brought me here, I would never have known how beautiful the lake is.”

Something inside me relaxes. For these few moments, he is not Throne Blackmore the elusive and cold billionaire, he is a man rowing a woman on a lake. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”

“You have no idea how beautiful,” he says, but he is not looking at the lake. He is looking directly into my eyes.