An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire (18 page)

She set a crème-brûlée in front of him and slid into her seat. ‘Have a taste.'

He looked as if he wanted to argue, but he spooned some of the dessert into his mouth and an expression of bliss spread across his face. He swore—just a little swear word—in an expression of wonder, not of alarm or anger. ‘This is
amazing
.'

She stared at him, her chest clenching and unclenching, her skin going hot and cold, and something inside her melted so fast she wanted to cry out loud at the shock of it.

She loved him.

She loved him utterly, but she couldn't see how things between them could ever work out.

‘Mia?'

She straightened. ‘It wasn't the press on the phone, Dylan. It was your uncle.'

* * *

Dylan swore—one of the rudest words he knew.

Mia flinched. For all that she'd been to jail, she was no hardened criminal.

‘I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that.

She waved his apology away. ‘It doesn't matter.'

It
did
matter. She deserved better. ‘He warned you off?'

‘Yes.'

He set his spoon down. ‘What did he threaten you with?'

Her lips lifted a fraction. ‘It wasn't a threat, but a “friendly warning”.'

As if that were somehow different! He wished to God he could smile with her, but his sense of humour had deserted him. It had abandoned him when he'd walked away from her last week.

Fear had taken its place. Fear that he would never find a way to win her love.

‘And it wasn't specific—just a general warning to stay away from you and Carla or I'd be sorry.'

‘Are you going to heed him?'

She picked up her spoon and pressed it gently to the crust of her crème-brûlée until it cracked. ‘Surely you and Carla have some say in the matter?'

He stilled. That felt like progress. ‘You're not going to buckle under to his bullying?'

‘Your uncle reminds me of my father. I stood up to my father and the world didn't come crashing down. Mind you—' her sigh arrowed into his chest ‘—it didn't do me any good either.'

The smile she sent him made his eyes burn.

‘I suspect that if he chooses, your uncle could cause trouble for me.'

‘And all you want is a quiet life?'

She lifted her eyes heavenward. ‘I
crave
a quiet life.'

Life with him would never be quiet.

She brought her spoon down on top of her dessert again, shattering the toffee crust further. ‘But me standing up to your uncle isn't going to be enough for you, Dylan, is it?' She met his gaze, her eyes troubled. ‘You want more from me, and I don't know if I can give it to you.'

He straightened
I don't know
was a monumental improvement on
No chance at all
.

‘You want our relationship to become physical, and you assure me you can keep that news under wraps from the press. I'm even starting to believe you. But can you promise me—?'

He leaned across and pressed a finger to her lips. ‘First things first.' He needed to remove a significant problem before focusing on the reasons behind her softening. ‘You think my uncle can cause problems for you at work with Gordon?'

‘The thought has crossed my mind.' She stabbed the spoon into her dessert. ‘I liked my plan—gain a useful qualification that'll keep me in employment—but I think it's time to say goodbye to it.'

He removed the crème-brûlée from her grasp and placed it out of reach before she totally mangled it. ‘You have a new plan?' Even though he knew it was a long shot, he couldn't help hoping he featured in this Plan B of hers.

‘I think I'd better start looking for unskilled work—factory work or waitressing. At a pinch I suppose I could join the fruit-picking circuit.'

A hand reached out and wrung his heart.
‘No!'

Her raised eyebrow told him he had no say in the matter.

‘I
won't
leave you worse off than I found you. I
won't
be responsible for that.'

Too late
.

The words whispered through him, leaving a bitter aftertaste. ‘I promise to do everything in my power to ensure you keep your job at Plum Pines.'

He could see that while she believed the sincerity of his intention she didn't think he'd be able to achieve the desired outcome. She had a point. His uncle held a lot of sway.

He drummed his fingers on the table. ‘Right. If that doesn't work... Look, I know you don't want to work for FWE, but you could still do a traineeship with the company.' He drummed his fingers harder as his mind raced. ‘I'd put you under one of my managers. You'd hardly see me. Our paths would barely cross.' He'd make sure they didn't if it would help her accept his offer. ‘After two years of working for FWE, you could get a job anywhere in the industry. Job security would never be an issue for you again.'

‘Dylan, I—'

He held up his hand. ‘This is only a fall-back plan, in case you're fired from Plum Pines. I don't want to be responsible for you losing your job. Ever since I've met you, all I've done is cause you trouble.' He started to tick off the list on his fingers. ‘Gordon tried to fire you for flirting with me, when I was the one doing the flirting. I introduced you to Thierry, who tried to play the heavy with you. Felipe put you in an untenable position when he snapped that photograph. The press have tried to go to town on you. And now my uncle has threatened you. It's not a list to be proud of.'

She glanced away. When she turned back, her eyes were dark and troubled. ‘I fear you're paying for it too, though,' she said.

She was worth any price he had to pay. Which would be fine if he were the one paying the piper and not her. When he looked at the facts baldly, he'd done nothing but cause her trouble.

‘That really is quite a list.' For the briefest of moments her eyes twinkled. ‘It hasn't been all bad. You've bought me chocolate, and I've had my toenails painted. And I got the opportunity to see some amazing art.'

It was a paltry list in comparison.

She pressed her hands together. ‘Most importantly, though, we now know Thierry isn't mistreating Carla.'

That
was
something. He'd never have found that out if it weren't for Mia.

‘I've also learned some decorating tips and had the opportunity to cook veal scaloppini. What more could a girl want?'

A whole lot more!

He dragged a hand back through his hair. ‘Dinner tonight was truly awful. Not the food,' he added quickly. ‘The atmosphere.' And that had mostly been his fault too.

Mia pleated the tablecloth. ‘I thought you were sulking.'

He couldn't seem to find any middle ground where she was concerned. ‘I've been trying to give you some space, but the effort is killing me.'

As soon as he said it he knew the admission was too much. Mia sat further back in her seat. Further away from him. He had to swallow a groan at the pain that cramped his chest.

Pulling in a breath, he forced himself to focus on the important topic of their conversation. ‘Please tell me that if you do lose your job you'll allow FWE to employ you. I can't stand the thought of bringing that much trouble to your door. I know it means working in events management, rather than in conservation, but once you've gained the qualification you can arrange your working hours so you can study at night for a different qualification if you want. If I'm reading you correctly, it's job security that's really important to you.'

She was silent for several long moments, but eventually something in her shoulders unhitched. ‘Okay.'

He stared at her. ‘You mean it?'

‘I'm really,
really
hoping I don't lose my position at Plum Pines.'

‘We'll call that Plan A.'

‘But if I do lose it, then, yes... I'd like to accept your offer of a position at FWE. We can call that Plan B'

‘You'll trust that I won't try and take advantage of the situation?'

She nodded, and he found that he could smile. If she trusted him that far...

He rubbed his hands together. ‘I feel we're making progress.'

‘Progress?' The word squeaked out of her. ‘How?'

He leaned towards her. ‘I want to throw our ground rules out the window, Mia. I thought I only wanted an affair with you—fun, pleasure, satisfaction.'

At each word her eyes widened.

‘But I was wrong. I want a whole lot more than that. I want—'

She pressed her fingers to his lips before he could tell her he loved her. Her throat bobbed convulsively. ‘You're moving too fast for me.'

He pressed a kiss to her fingers before wrapping her hand in his. ‘I'll slow down.'

‘Do you even know how to do that?'

‘I'll learn.'

Her brow creased. ‘Dylan, I can't promise you anything.'

‘I know. I might have hope, but I don't have any expectations. I have no right to expect anything from you.'

Dark eyes stared into his. ‘You have so much faith in me, and I have so little in myself.'

She had to find that faith or there'd be no chance for them. They both knew that.

Her gaze drifted down to his mouth. Her eyes darkened and her lips parted, as if she couldn't get enough air into her lungs.

‘And yet your beauty continues to addle my brain,' she murmured, almost to herself. ‘That can't be good.'

An answering desire took hold of him, his stomach muscles tightening and his skin tingling. ‘I think it's excellent.'

She moistened her lips, her chest rising and falling. ‘Would you like to stay the night?'

For a moment he couldn't breathe. His free hand clenched and then unclenched, before clenching again. ‘I would
love
to stay the night, but you told me sex wouldn't make a difference.'

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

‘Can you promise me that it
will
make a difference, Mia?'

Her gaze slid away and she shook her head.

He pulled in a breath and held strong. ‘I want more than crumbs from you. I want everything.'

She looked as if she wanted to run away. ‘I'm sorry. That was stupid of me. Especially when I just asked you to slow down.' She rubbed her brow. ‘We should bring this evening to a close and you should say goodnight.'

He rose, forcing her to rise too. If he didn't leave soon he'd be in danger of settling for anything, however small. ‘It's a hostess's duty to escort her guests to the door.'

She bit back a smile as he pulled her along in his wake. ‘You're just angling for a kiss.'

He backed her up against the wall. ‘It excites me to know you're burning for me.'

Her breath hitched. ‘You promised slow.'

‘It's just a kiss, Mia.'

‘Nothing is
just
anything with you, Dylan. We both know that.'

‘Then tell me to stop.'

Her gaze moved from his eyes to his mouth. ‘Just a kiss?'

He grinned down at her and shook his head. ‘I mean to leave you
really
burning, Mia.'

Her eyes widened. ‘I—'

He covered her mouth with his own, keeping the caress gentle until she relaxed beneath his touch, her lips moving against his, her mouth opening to him... And then, without warning, he deepened the kiss, intensifying it using his lips, tongue, teeth. His hands pressed into the small of her back until her full length was against his. He used every weapon in his armoury to assault her senses.

‘Dylan...'

His name was a groan of need on her lips, and it nearly drove him mad. She tangled her hands in his hair, drawing him closer as she tried to crawl into his skin, inflaming him beyond endurance. He pressed her back against the wall, his hands sliding down over her backside, his fingers digging into her buttocks, pulling her up and into him, his need for her a fire in his blood.

She wanted him too. They could have each other and...

He eased away from her. Their eyes locked. He wanted so much more than this from her, but he knew that if she asked him to stay now, he would.

She pulled in a breath, as if reading that thought in his face. With something that sounded like a sob, she planted a hand to his chest and gently pushed him away.

‘Go.'

CHAPTER ELEVEN

M
IA
BARELY
SLEPT
that night. She gave up trying just before dawn. So when Carla pulled up at the front of the cottage just after six a.m. Mia happened to be sitting on her front step, nursing a mug of coffee.

She stood and opened the front gate, ushered Carla through. Carla trudged up the path and collapsed on to the step, and Mia's heart clenched at the sight of her friend's red-rimmed eyes.

Then she noted the faint blue bruise on Carla's right cheekbone and a hot pit of anger burned in her belly.

She brushed her fingers beneath it, unable to stop her eyes from filling. ‘Not Thierry?'

Carla's eyes filled too. ‘No. He's a jerk, but not that much of a jerk.'

‘Not Dylan.'

It was a statement rather than a question. Dylan would never strike a woman.

Carla gave a short laugh. ‘I think he'd rather throw himself off a cliff than hurt a woman.' She glanced at Mia and rolled her eyes. ‘I mean
physically
hurt a woman. From what I can tell he's broken his fair share of hearts. The fact you're up so early leads me to believe he's given
you
a sleepless night.'

Mia felt her lips twist. ‘In this instance I believe it's safe to say I've returned the favour.'

Carla's attempt at a smile almost broke Mia's heart. She sat down and put her arm around Carla's shoulders. ‘Your uncle?'

Carla rested her head against Mia's. ‘Yes...' she whispered.

The swine!

They sat like that for a while, letting the early-morning peace seep into their souls.

A sigh eventually shuddered out of Mia. ‘He hit you because of me, didn't he? Because you refused to end our friendship. I'm sorry I've caused trouble for you, Carla. You don't deserve it.'

Carla lifted her head. ‘He hit me because I refused to obey him—because I'm choosing to live my life the way I see fit. And it's not the first time it's happened.'

Mia called him one of the worst names she could think of.

A giggle shot out of Carla, but she nodded in agreement.

‘C'mon.' Mia hauled her to her feet. ‘Have you had an
ounce
of sleep?'

Carla shook her head.

She led her inside and pushed her in the direction of the bathroom. ‘Go wash your face.' She pulled a soft cotton nightie from a drawer and ordered her to put it on, then pulled the covers back from her bed. ‘In.'

‘Oh, but...'

‘We'll make a game plan after you've had some sleep.'

Carla glanced at the bed. ‘A couple of hours
would
be good.' She glanced back at Mia, biting her lip. ‘I really,
really
don't want to see either Thierry or Dylan at the moment. I know it's asking a lot of you, Mia, but I just...'

‘You want to sort through things at your own pace. That's understandable.'

‘I'm tired of men thinking they know what's best for me, telling me what to do.'

‘I'll take care of Thierry and Dylan if they show up.'

Carla climbed into the bed.

Mia pulled the covers up to her chin, squeezed her hand briefly. ‘Sleep well.'

She fortified herself with more coffee and went to sit back out on the front step to keep guard.

* * *

Dylan showed up at nine o'clock.

He looked tired and haggard and her heart went out to him. She forgave him—a little—for her own sleepless night.

He collapsed onto the step beside her. ‘I've been looking for her for a couple of hours.' He gestured to Carla's car. ‘Thierry rang at seven. I thought she was with him. That's when I realised she was missing. I'm glad she's here.'

Thierry chose that moment to pull up behind Dylan's car.

‘She's a grown woman, Dylan. If she chooses to spend the night elsewhere, surely that's her business? Not to mention her prerogative. I'm sure
you
wouldn't appreciate it if she sent out a search party whenever
you
didn't come home.'

He thrust out his jaw. ‘She's not answering her phone.'

‘Likewise.'

She said it as gently as she could, but Dylan's eyes narrowed, the irises going a deep sapphire.

Thierry charged up the path. ‘I want to see her!'

‘I'm sure you do.' She kept her voice calm. ‘But the fact of the matter is she doesn't want to see either of you at the moment.'

‘Me?' Dylan shot to his feet. ‘Why doesn't she want to see
me
?'

‘I believe the phrase was, “I'm tired of men thinking they know what's best for me.”'

Both men's jaws dropped.

Dylan paced.

Thierry just stood there with his hands clenched. He glanced at the door.

‘It's locked,' Mia said. ‘And if either one of you has the slightest interest in her well-being you won't start banging on the door. She's asleep.'

Dylan halted his pacing. ‘You put her to
bed
?'

‘I did.'

Thierry rested his hands on his knees, his face grey. ‘I don't know what to do. I've been such an idiot.'

Dylan leapt forward and grabbed him by his shirtfront and shook him. ‘What the
hell
have you done to her?'

‘If I have to get the hose out to cool the pair of you off, I will.'

Those blue eyes swung to her. She read the anger in them—and the indecision.

‘Let him go, Dylan. Carla is perfectly aware that the two of you have her best interests at heart, but she's entitled to a time out whenever she needs one. She doesn't have to consult with either of you beforehand.'

Dylan stared into her eyes so intently it felt as if he was scouring her soul. Finally, with a nod, he released Thierry. ‘Sorry.'

Thierry straightened his shirt. ‘No problem.'

She glanced back at Thierry. ‘I don't know what your argument was about last night, but if you're truly sorry—'

‘I am!'

‘Then I suggest you come up with an honest explanation for why you behaved the way you did, promise to do better in the future, and have a heartfelt and grovelling apology ready.'

His fists opened and closed several times. He nodded hard. ‘Right.'

His earnestness almost made her smile. ‘Flowers might help too.'

His chin lifted. ‘I can come back?'

She knew she wouldn't be able to keep him away indefinitely.

‘You can come back at four. I'm not making any promises. It's up to Carla to decide if she wants to see you or not.'

‘Right.' He swung away and made for the gate. He halted when he reached it and turned back. ‘Thanks.'

With a nod, he was gone.

Had Thierry just
thanked
her? Wow!

Both she and Dylan watched him drive away—Mia from her spot on the step, Dylan from where he stood in wide-legged masculine magnificence on her pocket of front lawn.

As soon as Thierry's car had disappeared, he swung back to face her. ‘Okay, you can let me see her now.'

‘I'm sorry, Dylan, but the same holds true for you too.'

‘You have to be joking!' He stalked across to loom over her. ‘You
know
I only have Carla's best interests at heart.'

She stood, using the step to give her a height advantage. ‘Has it never occurred to you that all your big brotherly protectiveness—some might call it
over
-protectiveness—could be a
little
stifling?' She uttered ‘little' in such a way that he couldn't miss the fact that she meant
a lot
.

He gaped at her. ‘It's my job to look out for her.'

‘She's an adult. She can look out for herself.'

‘Just because your family let you down, it doesn't mean that's the way every family works.'

He spoke the words in a voice so low and controlled it sent ice tiptoeing down her spine.

He held out his hand, palm flat, eyes glittering. ‘Give me the key.'

Her heart quailed, because she suddenly realised what a betrayal he would see this as—her keeping him from his sister. She wanted to weep. She'd finally found the one sure way to distance him, and now that she had she didn't want to use it.

Give him the key
.

She lifted her chin and forced steel to her spine. ‘No.' Planting her hands on her hips, she leaned towards him. ‘Carla doesn't want to see you at the moment. Go home, Dylan. Stop being a bully.'

His hands fisted and his entire body started to shake. ‘I could take it from you by force.'

She folded her arms and raised an eyebrow. They both knew he wouldn't.

He swore and she flinched. He didn't apologise, but she didn't expect him to.

‘A
bully
?' The word ground out of him. ‘I can't believe you're lumping me in the same class as Thierry.'

The pain in his words cut at her. ‘I
do
put you in the same class as Thierry. Thierry loves Carla—adores her. He'd lay his life down for her. I know you would too. It doesn't change the fact that Carla doesn't want to see either of you for the time being.'

His eyes blazed, but his face turned to stone. He turned and stormed down the path, leaving as she'd ordered him to.

The backs of her eyes burned and her vision blurred. A lump lodged in her throat. Whatever fragile link had bound them together had been severed, and she felt the pain of it deep down inside her. It tore at something she thought might never be fixed.

At the gate, he halted. His shoulders sagged. She hated it that she'd hurt him, but she readied herself for a different form of attack.

He came back, his face sombre, his eyes throbbing. ‘I owe you an apology. I just acted like a two-year-old throwing a tantrum because he's been denied what he wants. But I'm worried about Carla.'

‘I know.'

He clasped her shoulders. ‘Is she okay?'

He stared into her eyes and she realised he meant to trust whatever she told him. Her mouth went dry.

‘Mia?'

Her heart thudded, though she couldn't explain why. ‘She's upset.'

‘With Thierry?'

‘I suspect so. But mostly with your uncle.'

Dylan's lips pressed together in a tight line. ‘His car was at the house when I got back last night. It was late, so he was already in bed. He left after breakfast. We shared a few home truths. I don't think he'll be back. I told him that if he caused trouble for you at your place of employment you'd come and work for FWE. I don't think your job will be in jeopardy from
that
region, Mia.'

‘I... Thank you.'

‘I didn't know he'd spoken to Carla.'

It wasn't her place to tell him about his uncle's violence. ‘I think that after some sleep, and some lunch and some talking, Carla will be fine. She just needs time to clear her head.'

He squeezed her shoulders and then released her. ‘Okay.'

He really meant to trust her?

‘Thank you for looking after her.'

‘She's my friend. Of course I'm going to look out for her.'

His eyes throbbed into her. ‘I don't mean to be a bully.'

It took all the strength she had not to reach out and touch his face. ‘I know that too.' And he wasn't—not really. ‘If you were really a bully you'd have taken the key from me by force.'

‘You don't see it, do you?' he said.

A desolation that made her heart catch stretched through his eyes. Her mouth went dry. ‘What don't I see?'

‘I just harangued you, bullied you, all but emotionally blackmailed you, but you held firm. You chose to do what you thought was right rather than submit to my will. Do you still believe you're weak and easy to manipulate?'

She froze. ‘I...'

The yard spun.

‘I can't keep doing this, Mia.'

Her gaze speared back to his. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I love you.'

Her heart stuttered in her chest.

‘You
know
I love you. With everything that's inside me. I'd do anything to win your love. But it's not enough, is it? You're still so far away. I lose myself and I get so frustrated... I start to yell and then I turn into a bully.'

‘Dylan, I—'

He pressed his fingers to her lips. ‘I love you, Mia. I want to have a life with you. But I won't bully you into that. If you ever come to me, I want it to be because you love me too.'

She did love him, but...

Confusion swirled through her and she couldn't make sense of the riot raging through her. The smile he sent her made her want to cry.

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her brow. ‘Tell Carla if she needs anything to call me.'

She nodded.

He held her gaze for a moment. ‘I mean to give you all the space you want, Mia. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.'

Fear clutched at her heart.

With a nod, he turned and strode away. This time he didn't stop at the gate.

Every step that he took away from her increased the ache in her chest tenfold.

* * *

Carla slept until noon.

‘Did Thierry show up?'

‘He did. So did Dylan.'

‘What did he say?'

‘Dylan said you're to call him if you need anything.'

‘What did
Thierry
say?'

Oh.
‘The man is half out of his wits with worry for you...and fear that you're going to dump him.'

‘Good!'

‘I told him to come back at four. I didn't guarantee that you'd see him. But if you really don't want to see him again he'll need to hear it from you.'

Carla bit her lip.

‘Can things not be fixed?' Mia asked.

Carla folded her arms. ‘I guess that depends on him. He wants to be all strong and solitary and untouchable—but that's
not
how relationships work. It's not how
marriage
works.'