An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire (16 page)

Biting back a groan, Mia set off after him.

* * *

Dylan hurled himself at the shape that had emerged in the darkness, bringing the anonymous photographer down.

He tried to clamp down on the rage that had him wanting to tear things apart with his bare hands. He wanted to tear apart the men who'd let Mia down—her father, the despicable Johnnie Peters. He wanted to tear apart her mistaken view of herself as some kind of spineless push-over. He wanted to tear apart her view of
him
! Most of all he wanted to tear himself apart, and he didn't know why.

Don't tear the photographer apart. He's just doing his job
.

‘Fair go, Fairweather!'

Dylan pushed himself upright as Mia came running up. She shone the torch on her phone on the photographer, confirming Dylan's suspicions. A hard ball lodged in his belly.

‘Percy Struthers. What the hell do you think you're doing, sneaking up on me again
now
?'

Percy had created a PR firestorm last year, when Dylan had been in charge of a Turkish sultan's sixtieth birthday celebrations. Percy had released a photo of Dylan and the Sultan's very beautiful youngest daughter, linking them romantically. It had been a lie, of course, but try telling
that
to an enraged Turkish sultan...

Percy Struthers was the grubbiest of the gutter press, and trouble with a capital T.

Mia had broken the law—she'd done wrong and she'd paid the price—but the world was full of immoral, unethical people who lied and cheated. Were
they
sent to jail? Hardly! Some of them were applauded and clapped on the back for it—like tabloid journalists and politicians.

‘It's news whenever a new woman turns up in your life—you know that.'

‘Give me the camera.'

With a sigh, Percy handed it over.

Dylan stood and indicated for Mia to shine her torch on the camera. With a flick of his fingers he removed the memory stick.

Percy clambered to his feet, caught the camera when Dylan tossed it back to him. ‘It won't stop the story, you know.'

‘Without a photograph the story won't gain traction.'

They both knew that.

The photographer gave an ugly laugh. ‘But one of us will eventually get a photo—you can't remain on your guard twenty-four-seven.'

Beside him, Mia stiffened. Dylan wanted to throw his head back and howl. This was her worst nightmare, and it was he who'd dragged her into it.

‘I know who she is,' Percy continued. ‘And I know what she's done.'

Her
absolute
worst nightmare.

‘Aren't you afraid she's on the make? That you're simply her latest target?'

He felt rather than saw Mia flinch. A ball of fury lodged in his gut.

Don't rise to the bait. Don't give the pond scum anything. Don't feed the frenzy
.

It hit him suddenly how much his name, his position, were black marks against him in Mia's book.

Percy gave another of those ugly laughs. ‘An ex-con?
Really
, Dylan? What are you trying to prove? Or have you developed a taste for a bit of rough?'

Dylan reached out and took Mia's hand. ‘I think we're done here.'

‘Run along, darlin'.' The photographer smirked. ‘We all know what you're after.'

And then he called her a name that no man should ever call a woman.

Dylan whirled around, his right hand fisted, and smashed him square on the nose. Blood burst from it as the man reeled backwards to sprawl on the ground. Pain shot up Dylan's arm.

Mia sucked in a breath, and even in the darkness he could see the way her eyes flashed.

Percy cursed. ‘You'll pay for that, Fairweather.

Mia tried to tug her hand from Dylan's but he refused to relinquish it. He towed her in the direction of the car instead. He had to get out of here before he did something truly despicable—like beat Percy Struthers to a pulp.

Mia sat in tight-lipped silence all the way home, only unfolding her arms to push herself out of the car once he'd pulled up at the front of her cottage. She slammed it with a force that made him wince.

He had to jog to catch up with her. She didn't hold the front door open for him, letting it fall behind her, meaning he had to catch it. But at least she hadn't slammed it in his face. He told himself that was something.

‘You're...uh...cross with me?'

She turned on him, and her eyes flashed with so much anger the hair at her temples seemed to shake with it.

She seized his right hand and glanced down at it. ‘Does it hurt?'

‘Yes.'

‘Good.'

She dropped it as if it burned her. Moving to the freezer, she took out a packet of frozen peas. Grabbing his hand, she slammed it on top of his grazed knuckles. It didn't really hurt any more, but he winced anyway, hoping it would give her more bloodthirsty impulses a measure of satisfaction. And he submitted when she pushed him towards one of her hard wooden chairs—not so hard now they sported pale blue chair pads.

She lifted his left hand and dropped it on top of the peas to hold them in place, then retreated to sit on the sofa and glower at him.

The silence started to saw on his nerves. ‘You think I'm an idiot?'

‘Totally.'

‘He had no right to call you what he did.'

‘You are
utterly
infuriating!' Her hands balled into fists. ‘What he called me was despicable, but the best thing you could've done was walk away without giving him the satisfaction of reacting.' She shot to her feet and started to pace. ‘Oh, but,
no
—you couldn't manage that, could you? No! Your honour demanded reparation for the lady—regardless of how much more difficult you'd be making it for said lady!'

He shifted on the chair. ‘I...uh...'

‘The story will break in the tabloids, the ugliest accusations will be made, and I'll be hounded by reporters and photographers at work.
Hell!
' She flung her arms out. ‘Just wait until Gordon catches wind of this. I'll be out on my ear.' She swung to him, thumping a hand to her chest. ‘I
need
to finish this traineeship. I need a decent qualification so I can get a job.'

‘I've already told you—come and work for me.'

‘I don't
want
to work for you!'

Her rejection stung. He shot to his feet then too. ‘That's right—you'd rather bury yourself in some godforsaken place where you can sentence yourself to a life of solitary confinement.'

‘That's
my
decision to make.'

He wanted to hurl the peas across the room. Except he didn't want to ruin the pretty new furnishings. He had to settle for dropping them in the sink instead.

He moved back into the middle of the room. ‘I have no intention of making light of your experiences with the criminal justice system, but you're letting one experience colour your entire life.' That hard lump of anger in his chest rose up into his throat. ‘And I am
not
Johnnie Peters.'

Her entire frame shook. ‘I told you—this is about
me
. Not you.' She didn't yell, but her words speared through him as if they'd come at him at great volume. ‘You
punched
a man tonight, Dylan. That photographer can have you charged with assault. He'd be within his rights.'

It was true. It had been foolish to react. He couldn't find it in himself to regret it, though.

‘And you made
me
an eye witness to the event.'

He swung back to meet her gaze. What he saw there made his heart burn.

‘If I were in love with you, and you asked me to lie to the police about what had happened tonight...'

She didn't finish the sentence, but her pallor made his stomach churn.

‘You're afraid you'd perjure yourself for me?'

‘If I fell in love with you, Dylan, I'm afraid I'd risk everything again.'

He reached out to curl his fingers around her shoulders. ‘I would
never
ask that of you.'

She moved away until his hands dropped back to his sides. ‘The best way for me to avoid that kind of temptation is to avoid romantic attachments altogether. All I want is a quiet life. It doesn't seem too much to ask. It doesn't seem like such a big sacrifice to make.'

Ice sped through his veins. ‘You're mistaken if you think living a half-life isn't a sacrifice. It'll keep you out of jail, it'll keep you out of trouble, but there are worse things than jail.'

She blinked, as if that wasn't a thought that had ever occurred to her.

‘Living a life without love is one of them. And here's another thing for you to think about. If I fell in love with
you
—' he pointed a finger at her ‘—who's to say you wouldn't have the same power over me that Johnnie had over you? Who's to say you wouldn't force me to turn my back on my principles?'

The words spilled from him with an uncanny truth that left him reeling.

Her mouth dropped open.

He forged on, not understanding what was happening to him. ‘Do you think I'd lie, steal or perjure myself for you?'

Her hands twisted together. ‘You might lie for me...if it wasn't a big lie.'

He widened his stance. ‘But the rest?'

She bit her lip and finally shook her head. ‘No.'

‘What makes you think
you
would, then?'

‘My past tells me I'm weak.'

‘Do you really think three years in prison—with all the education and counselling you received—hasn't made you stronger?'

She still labelled herself as weak-willed and easy to manipulate. He understood her fear of prison, and her determination never to find herself back behind bars, but she was wrong. She might let people like Gordon push her around, but she was as strong as one of the Plum Pines the reserve was named after.

Behind the dark moss of her eyes he could see her mind racing. He mightn't have convinced her.
Yet.
But he'd given her something to think about.

He snaked his hand behind her head and drew her face close to his.

‘What are you doing?' she squeaked.

‘I'm giving you something else to think about. Do you
really
want to live without this, Mia?'

He wanted to slam his lips to hers and kiss her with all the pent-up frustration tearing at his soul. He didn't. She'd tensed, ready to resist such an assault. And he didn't want to hurt her. If she'd let him he'd do everything he could to make her happy.

He touched his lips to hers gently, slowly exploring the lush lines of her mouth—savouring her. He poured all of himself into the kiss, wanting to give her as much pleasure as he could.

With a shiver and a sigh she sank against him, her hands fisting in his shirt. At his gentle demand she opened up to him and he felt as if he was home. Murmuring her name, he moved to gather her close—only to find a hand planted on his chest, pushing him away.

‘Stop.'

He released her immediately.

Her chest rose and fell as if she'd been running. ‘You shouldn't be kissing me.'

He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do.

‘What you should be doing is readying yourself for the PR disaster that's about to hit.'

He remained silent until she lifted her gaze to his. ‘I promise you won't lose your job.'

She snorted her disbelief. ‘Will you please warn Carla too? I think it'd be a good idea if you told her all that I told you tonight.'

‘You want Carla to know?'

‘It seems only fair.'

‘No.' He refused to be a party to her shutting herself off from people. ‘If you're truly her friend, Mia, then
you
tell her.'

With that, he spun on his heel and left.

* * *

Dylan stumbled down Mia's front steps, feeling as if he'd descended a drop of a thousand feet. He put out a hand to steady himself, but there was nothing to grab on to. He stood there swaying, praying he'd find his balance soon.

What had just happened?

Idiot
!

The word screamed over and over in his mind, but he didn't know why.

What was so idiotic about anything he'd done tonight? Mia might think him an idiot for punching Percy Struthers, but the man had deserved it. Given the chance, he'd do it again! And he wasn't an idiot for refusing to be labelled as another Johnnie Peters either.

Pain shot into his jaw from clenching his teeth too hard. He was
nothing
like Johnnie Peters!

He lurched over to his car and flung the door open, but he didn't get in.

He wasn't an idiot for fighting against Mia's mistaken view of herself. She wasn't weak! She was one of the strongest women he knew.

Stronger than Caitlin.

He froze. Where had
that
come from?

But... Mia
was
stronger than Caitlin.

His mouth dried, and his heart was pounding so hard it sent nausea swirling through him. Mia was
exactly
the kind of woman who'd go the distance with a man—who'd take the good times with the bad, who'd weather the storms. Mia wouldn't turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. If things got tough she'd dig her heels in and wait it out.

Idiot!

It finally hit him why that word kept going round and round in his mind. He collapsed on to the car seat. He'd been telling himself all this time that what he wanted with Mia was an affair, but that was a lie.

He wanted it all.
He loved her
. He wanted a chance to build a life with her.

His vision darkened. He raked his hands through his hair. All this time he'd thought he'd been keeping his heart safe...and yet the whole time he'd been falling in love with her.