Glow (39 page)

“I'm proud of what I've been able to accomplish at Durand. But if some day, you decide you want to take the helm—”

“Oh God,” she groaned. “Dylan, that's such a ludicrous possibility at this point.”

“At this point, it may feel like it,” he said quietly. He reached up and touched her cheek. She moved her chin, assured by his touch, and looked up at him in quiet desperation. “I assure you, with your talents, it won't always seem so bizarre. I just want you to know, I'll be okay no matter what. I could have a whole new future somewhere else.”

“I don't want you
somewhere else
,” she said emphatically, alarmed at the mere thought.

He smiled that smile that always made something pull tight inside her, the one that made her feel so cherished. “When it comes to you and me, I'll
always
be here. A job is something different. You know that.”

She nodded, a measure of relief seeping through her. “I can't do this without you, Dylan. Don't leave me just when I'm taking my first steps.”

“I'm
not
going to leave you,” he assured, his eyes flashing. “I just don't want you to ever have to think twice again, like you did with Thad Schaefer, when he started in with his insinuations about me.”

“I didn't ever believe you only wanted Alan's money,” she denied hotly.

He quirked one brow. “You thought about it, even if not for long, and even if you did discount it in the end.”

“I never—” She cut off her defense, frowning as she considered how miserable she'd been the night Thad alleged Dylan had ulterior motives when it came to her. Maybe Dylan was right. The insinuations had created a splinter, one that could have easily grown into a giant wedge, if she'd ever let it.

“You see what I mean?” he asked, reading her expression. “Money can easily get between people and split them apart. It happens before they even realize it is. I won't let that happen to us, no matter how unusual our situation is.” He leaned forward and kissed her brow. “That's why I'm telling you right now.” His
dark eyes gleamed with determination. “It will never, ever happen, that I will take anything from your estate; so you never, ever have to think twice about it. Alan left you a legacy—”

“One that you've more than tripled with your brilliant investments,” she inserted.

“—and I'm too proud of what I've accomplished on my own to start living off heiresses at this point in my life.”

“Dylan,” she remonstrated, scowling severely.

He laughed and stroked her cheek. “Do we agree on it?”

“Yes,” she grumbled. She found the conversation highly unsettling.

“Good, because now that we have that out of the way, I have something to say about us.”

“What?”

“I want you to live here with me.”

Her eyes went wide. In typical Dylan-like fashion, he'd stated his case with blunt succinctness. No beating around the bush with him. She reached for his other hand and stepped into him.

“Are you sure? You don't think people will talk? If I take a junior executive position at Durand and move in with the CEO?”

“Oh, they'll talk, all right,” he assured bluntly. “That's a guarantee. Rumors are going to be off the charts, so if that's going to bother you, then we'll have to come up with another arrangement. I think we both have to be prepared for some major gossip and backlash when it comes to us. We can't let it pull us apart.”

“That would never keep me from something that's so important to me,” she insisted fiercely.

He touched her cheek again. “This is your home. It has been from the beginning.”

She squeezed his hand. “You're right,” she said feelingly.

He looked mildly surprised at her easy acquiescence, and then very pleased.

“But not because it was Alan and Lynn's house,” she added
softly. She went up on her toes and brushed her mouth against his. “Because you're here.”

*   *   *

THE
first flickering of panic occurred as they drove to the press conference, and Alice noticed news vans parked on either side of the road a good half a mile from the hotel entrance. She heard a muted, familiar noise and peered upward through the windshield to see one hovering helicopter, then another.

“What's going on?” she asked.

Dylan gave her a quick, flickering glance, and suddenly he was putting on the brakes and sliding the sedan behind a white van. He put the car in park and turned toward her.

“The story itself actually broke this morning. The Durand public relations staff drafted a statement and sent it out to the major press outlets. It'll have circulated by now. The statement basically said that Alan Durand's kidnapped daughter is alive and has returned, and that the details relate to the recent attack of a woman named Alice Reed by Durand Vice President Sebastian Kehoe.”

“Oh,” she said numbly. “I thought
that
was what was going to be released at the press conference.”

“More details will be addressed there, but the staff thought it would be helpful in distributing the story if the media was informed of at least the basic facts before it began.” Alice nodded, the muted
rat-a-tat-tat
noise of the helicopters making it difficult for her to focus. “The press has been given strict guidelines that they can't bombard you with questions,” he said firmly. “You can make a general statement, if you like, but you don't have to. Then someone from Durand media relations will call on three or four reporters to ask you questions. Answer as briefly or as fully as you want. If you don't know the answer, just say so. There's no crime
in that. This is all brand new to you, and if the press doesn't get that, screw them. Sound okay?” he asked, cupping her shoulder.

“I just didn't expect there to be so
many
,” she said, staring out the window as a news crew bustled past them on the side of the road.

Dylan grimaced. “Yeah, well . . . as much as I hate to admit it, it's a sexy story. Young, beautiful heiress returned to her legacy after being kidnapped as a child of four.”

“
They
don't know who I am. And how is any of this
sexy
?” Alice asked, frowning in disbelief out the window.

“I know. Being kidnapped, told you were another person for twenty years and attacked isn't sexy, but for the media, this is a gold mine. I'm sorry, honey, I didn't write the rules,” he added when she rolled her eyes. He quirked a brow and stared out the window as a woman and a man holding a camera passed. “Look at it from their perspective. For one thing, you're one of the wealthiest women in the world and they're about to get an eyeful of you. They might not know what you look like yet, but once they do.” He gave her a droll glance. “Welcome to the circus.”

“I'm reconsidering accepting the invitation.”

His fingers inched to the back of her neck. He stroked her nape softly. Despite her rush of anxiety, her nerves tingled in awareness.

“Do you want me to take you back to the castle?”

“What?” she asked, eyes going wide. She hadn't expected him to say that.

He shrugged. “It's fine with me if you don't want to do this. It's not going to change the basic facts.”

She stared at him for a moment, seriously considering taking the out he'd generously given her. After a moment, she slumped back in her seat.

“No. I might as well get this over with,” she said resignedly. “I'm Alan and Lynn's daughter. This is all part of their world, and
I guess I have to get used to dealing with it. Besides, I'd just be postponing the inevitable.” She looked over at him. “Thanks for saying you'd take me back, though.”

He smiled and reached into his pocket. He reached for her hand, and she felt the cool metal against her skin. A moment later, she held up her wrist to examine Lynn's bracelet sparkling in the sunlight. The vision heartened her. It would be the first time she'd wear it in public. There were some advantages to not keeping her identity secret anymore. She gave him a grateful glance.

“For courage,” Dylan said, putting the car into drive.

*   *   *

SHE
could hear the manic-like chatter emanating through the door even before Rick Preston from Durand's public relations department opened it for Alice, Dylan, a Special Agent Lee, Guy Morales, and Darla Sparrow, the region's U.S. attorney. Alice felt a little numb as they walked toward the head table. The ballroom had gone hushed at their entrance, the exception being the repeated clicks of hundreds of cameras. Dylan pulled her chair out for her, then sat directly next to her. As he seated her, his fingertips skimmed against her back. His touch helped to clear the hazy, surreal feeling that pervaded her as she looked out at the crowd of people.

Rick Preston made a brief statement, and then introduced Dylan.

Listening to Dylan speak, Alice was slowly able to filter out a good portion of her surroundings and anxiety. With a strange sense of nostalgia, she recalled how last year, she'd spent so much time researching Durand Enterprises and its CEO for her graduate research project with Maggie. She'd become a little obsessed with Dylan Fall, even then, looking at photographs of him, watching news footage of him speaking. She was reminded acutely of how commanding a speaker he was, how confident and firm, brilliant
and sharp without ever seeming cocky or domineering. Kehoe's crowd—if, indeed, Kehoe had ever really
had
any following at Durand—could rumor-monger, insinuate, and scoff all they wanted. Alan Durand had known
exactly
what he was doing in designating Dylan as his company's leader.

Dylan spoke in his straightforward, succinct yet eloquent manner, never hesitating as he related more personal details than he ever had before in public—to Alice's knowledge—about his relationship with Alan, Lynn, and Addie Durand and about his presence at Addie's kidnapping. He didn't elaborate on his lifetime pursuit to find that little girl, saying he would leave those details up to the U.S. attorney. Alice found his sidestepping of the issue remarkably modest of him, since he was the sole reason she sat there at that moment. But that, too, was typical of Dylan.

He went on to make a statement in regard to how Alan Durand had provided for his daughter, should she ever return. He threw firm support behind Alan Durand's heir, and provided believable reassurances for Durand Enterprises continued growth, global leadership, and fiscal success.

The energy level in the room had mounted noticeably as Dylan spoke. By the time Dylan said he'd take a few questions, almost every camera was turned on Alice. She wished she could disappear. The hazy sense of unreality she'd been experiencing only amplified.

“You mentioned that the majority of shares are held in a trust that was to be returned to Adelaide Durand if ever she should return,” one male reporter began. “What does that mean for the management of Durand and the many charitable projects it supports?”

“I can respond in regard to the management of Durand, because the trust and Durand Enterprises' functioning assets are two separate entities. As for what will happen with the trust, that's not up to me. It's up to Alice—Addie. She can decide today, or she
can take her time. She can alter her plans at any future date. It's entirely up to her. Whatever she decides,” Dylan paused and glanced over at Alice briefly. Alice's racing heart gave a little leap. “The public should know that Durand Enterprises will continue to function and flourish as it has in the past decade. The trust was earmarked by Alan Durand for his daughter, and whether or not employees and the public realize it, daily operations at Durand have been carried out since his death with that legacy kept intact. Absolutely no impoverishment or strain will be incurred on the company itself.”

A roar had started up in her ears. She understood that everything Dylan was saying was true, but there was a difference between logical understanding and emotional
getting
that she was the sole mistress to a vast fortune.

Just give it time.
And Dylan assured her he wasn't going to abandon her.

Dylan waved aside further questions. “I realize that I'm not the one you really want to hear about,” he said into the microphone with a small, dry smile. “So I'm going to turn things over to Guy Morales, who is our acting vice president of human resources. He's going to tell you a little more about Alice Reed.” Alice shifted uncomfortably in her chair as the cameras started to click rapidly again. What did Guy Morales have to say about her? She'd only been briefly introduced to him by Dylan. She glanced at Dylan with a question in her eyes when he came and sat down next to her.

“I'm honored to be able to stand here before you all today and relate a truly amazing story about a young woman who, despite a relative lack of available resources and funds, managed to graduate with her business degree with honors from the University of Illinois, Chicago and her master of business administration, summa cum laude, from Arlington College. From an early age, she demonstrated remarkable skill in mathematics, winning a coveted
scholarship to the University of Illinois. During her academic career, Ms. Reed contributed to one of the most talked-about research studies ever conducted about the correlation between corporate philanthropy and profit. Unbeknownst to her,” Morales paused for effect and gave Alice a brief smile, “she was vindicating the principles long held by Durand Enterprises . . . and by her parents, Alan and Lynn Durand.”

The cameras began popping like mad again. Alice felt a little queasy as Guy went on to describe her time at Camp Durand and how the managers had chosen her team—without knowing her identity as the Durand heir—as the championship team. She saw Dylan glance cautiously at her sideways, and wondered if he realized how uncomfortable she was, having her praises sung this way in front of a roomful of cameras and strangers.