The Billioniare's Bought Bride (Contemporary Romance) (9 page)

His hands continued to caress her, and they slid downward, under her hips and then his fingers slid under the silken band of her panties and down to explore her moist, virgin womanhood.

She bucked instinctively as Dylan’s fingers stroked her and then plunged into her uncharted depths. Her body shook as she went spiraling.

“Dylan!” She screamed his name as stars exploded in her head. The room went totally dark and he vanished as she jolted upright, wide awake. Panting and shaking, but awake. Just what had happened?

For several minutes, Madison tried to discern the ceiling. She was alone. She touched her lips. Normal. No puffiness, no indication of kissing.  She stretched. Everything felt as it should be. She was even still wearing the designer wedding dress she’d fallen asleep in. A small fortune, now crumpled. She took a deep breath and steadied her racing heart.

She had been dreaming. For years she’d had graphic dreams of Dylan, but they’d never been this realistic. No, none of her earlier imaginings had ever been this vivid, this real.

In her dream, she’d begun to make love to her husband on her wedding night. She’d wanted him. Craved his touch.

She put her hands over her face, realizing the truth. It was inevitable as sunrise that she and Dylan would make love. Dylan had known all along what her dream had just proven. They had chemistry she would not be able to resist.

But he’d smashed her grandfather’s dreams. She couldn’t let Dylan destroy hers, too. Already she’d given up love. She had to remain independent, controlled. Unless…

Could she change him? Could they leave behind their pasts and start over? Could she change the future, maybe find the boy she’d loved inside the man she didn’t? Perhaps residual traces of that bygone Dylan still existed. He had chosen to marry her, not anyone else. Did that say something, anything? Would it be foolish to try to eventually make her marriage real so that the sex would have a foundation?

Could he perhaps someday love her as he had long ago?

A cold gust of air blasted through the open window and Maddy crawled out of bed, grabbed the crank, and closed the casement. She yanked the new drapes across the wispy lace sheers. She shut the sun porch doors, sending the room into greater darkness.

With a shudder, Madison climbed back into warm bed. She’d spent many nights in this room, but never with Dylan sleeping a room away. She’d never been married.

None of her earlier questions had answers. The only thing that was certain was that while Summerhaven would remain the same for generations to come, her life had irrevocably changed.

Chapter Six

Sunlight peeked in around the edges of the heavy curtains, and Maddy stretched and shifted as the last vestiges of sleep fled. Feeling nothing but the smoothness of 400 count sheets under her bare shoulders, she blinked rapidly before realizing she was still
wearing the crumpled dress.  She planted her feet on the Oriental rug and padded over to the sunroom. With a gentle turn, she pulled the doors open and stepped out into the enclosed porch.

The storm long gone, the sun was already high in the sky, and she guessed it to be about ten a.m. She yawned; normally she didn’t sleep this late. Small johnboats dotted the waterscape, and a few sailboats languished in the lack of a morning breeze. As she surveyed her favorite view in the world, a new sense of purpose enveloped her. 

Summerhaven was her lifeblood. Here on her land she derived her strength, here she assuaged her grief in growing up without parents and all the things they would have taught her.

Here she cried, here she dreamed. Here she forgot she was the girl who learned about a woman’s monthly cycles from her boarding school gym teacher. Each summer Summerhaven worked its magic, and she loved it. The lake itself was an everyday miracle. Aunt Gail even claimed the water had healing powers.

Now, because of her marriage, Maddy would never lose her beloved home
.
She surveyed her property. The three restored Summerhaven docks, normally empty, now boasted two runabouts.

“Another glorious day.”

“Indeed.”

Madison jumped. Dylan and his father left the remodeled boathouse and began to ascend the long stone path to the lodge. They hadn’t seen her, only their voices had carried through the open windows. 

She studied her husband. Sunlight glistened off jet-black hair. He wore a casual black t-shirt that emphasized tanned skin and a firm body. The shirt tapered into blue-jean
shorts,
a brown leather belt circling the waistband. Strong legs anchored in leather boat mocs carried him up the hillside.

As if sensing her presence, his head turned toward her window, and Maddy fled into the sanctuary of the bedroom.  She opened the door to the walk-in closet, sighing with relief when she saw all her clothes. Gathering a short sleeve camp shirt and chinos shorts, she headed for the en suite bathroom.

Dylan’s contractors had transformed the outdated bathroom into a private spa. Madison had hot water instantly, and she let the jets of the double-headed oversized shower wash over her, easing the stress attempting to return full force now that the sun was up.

She couldn’t hide forever. She was a Johansson, no, she was a Blackwater now, and that meant she could face her husband, the man who’d haunted some very real dreams.

“There you are, sweetheart.” Dylan rose from the sofa as Madison walked into the great room about a half an hour later. “I wondered how long you were going to sleep.” 

She smiled, aware of two curious sets of eyes watching the exchange. “I guess I was really tired.”

“I wonder why,” Dylan said huskily, innuendo clear. As she moved past him, he reached out and pulled her into his arms. Her body crushed against his chest, and his mouth found hers. The kiss rocked her to her toes. Her body, fresh from its erotic dream, craved more, but as quickly as the kiss started, it ended. The residual heat remained.

“Such a loving wife you are,” Dylan murmured next to her ear, his arm wrapped tightly around her in warning.

Uncertain of her equilibrium, she remained pressed to Dylan as he rotated her to greet their guests. “Maddy, you remember my parents, Joe and Clarissa Blackwater.”

“Of course. It’s wonderful to see you again,” she replied, years of social politeness allowing her to sound solid and strong. Ten years had passed since she’d last seen them, when fate had placed the Blackwaters in her path. They’d been staying at the county campground just around the bend southwest of the Summerhaven property, and Joe had helped Maddy when the wheel had fallen off her golf cart on one of her many jaunts.

Unable to yet legally drive a car, the golf cart had provided an almost sixteen-year-old girl with transportation, and tooling through the campground was as much fun as being on a go-kart track. On one such excursion, she’d first met Dylan.

Clarissa’s Italian skin crinkled into dozens of gentle lines as she stood and grinned. “Dylan, let that poor girl go so that I can welcome her properly.”
Within seconds, Maddy was gathered into Clarissa’s arms for a generous hug.
“Don’t be so formal, my dear. You’re my daughter now.”

At Clarissa’s warm embrace, Maddy immediately experienced shame. Her own mother had died, and to deceive people this generous was appalling. She somehow managed to say, “Thank you.”

“Oh no, thank you,” Clarissa said. She gestured up to her taller husband. “Joe and I’d just about given up on Dylan for any grandchildren. He’s never been quite the same since that summer he met you. I am just so glad you two found each other again.”

“Welcome to the family, Maddy.” Joe Blackwater reached forward and drew her into a brief hug. He was almost as tall as his son, and he had aged well. His straight black hair was cropped closer to his head than Dylan’s ear length locks, and very little had receded.

If Dylan turned out anything like his father at his father’s age, then Dylan Blackwater would be a heartthrob until the day he died.

“So, how about we take the two of you to lunch?” Clarissa said. “Now, wipe that expression off your face, Dylan.  We insist. Joe and I want to spend some time with our new daughter. It’ll be hectic once school starts in two weeks so I thought we’d have lunch in Hayward.”
             

“My parents love the touristy stuff,” Dylan said with a genuine smile that made Maddy do a double take to make certain his caring expression was real. His demeanor was so relaxed, loving and caring.  Not calculated, or cold-blooded.

Maybe there was hope. Maybe, if he could be like this with his parents, then maybe he hadn’t changed too deeply. He draped his arm over her shoulders, and she wondered if she would ever get used to the electric jolt caused by the intimate contact. 

“Touristy stuff is fine,” Maddy said. “I’ve done very little of it.” Her grandmother had thought of it as being bourgeois.

Clarissa seemed pleased. “That’s how we found this place, on one of our wanderings. We’d left Al Capone’s hideout and camped on this lake.”

“Madison and I agree to lunch, as long as I drive,” Dylan inserted smoothly. “If not, you’ll lose yourself in the bingo hall. My wife and I would like to be home sometime tonight.”

“No problem,” Clarissa mused. “I’d love to hear the tiptoes of little pattering feet. Are you planning on starting a family soon?”

Since he still had his arm around her, Maddy was aware of Dylan’s tension. “Mom, let us be,” he said simply. “We’re newlyweds.”

The day actually went pretty well. Dylan’s parents were down to earth and conversation flowed easily
.

“I’m so glad you found each other,” Clarissa said when they were alone in the
fudge shop. Dylan and his dad were outside on a bench. “I worried about him.”

“Dylan?”

“Oh yes. While we weren’t actually poor, we really didn’t have much for extras,” Clarissa tossed handfuls of assorted hard candies into a straw basket. “We scrimped so we could travel. Dylan never gave us the impression he was too bothered with that, until the summer we arrived here and he met you. Maybe we should have given him more spending money. After all, a girlfriend does take extra. One day he returned extremely worse for the wear and said he was ready to leave whenever we were.”

“That was after Ted had beaten him up. My brother was horrible.”

“He looked pretty bruised. He kept telling us he’d fallen while out hiking. Neither Joe nor I believed him, but Dylan insisted nothing was broken so we respected his wish for privacy. He changed though. From that moment on, he was driven to succeed. He refused to be satisfied. Now his father, he loves being a teacher in the trenches. So do I. “

She rummaged through a barrel of loose candy and dropped some in her basket. “It sounds so silly to work, but we like it. Dylan keeps insisting we could quit and simply travel. Perhaps when we retire. I really think our students keep us young. We need them as much as they need us. Anyway, Dylan needed more. He had to have it all: the big house, the fancy car, and all those things Joe and I really don’t care about. When my son sets out to achieve something, he gets it.”

Hearing her name being called, Clarissa said, Oh, my fudge is ready,” and moved to the counter to retrieve her package.

Maddy stared out the window. As if sensing her, Dylan turned around and smiled. She ducked and joined Clarissa, bothered by the fact her family had found Dylan poor and unworthy. Her brother Ted had called him weak, insignificant. Had that been the catalyst
for Dylan’s ambition and drive? Had her rejection been the inciting incident? Had she caused the man she’d loved to change into what he’d become? He no longer believed in love. Worse, her actions had spawned someone ruthlessness about getting whatever he wanted.

“He got me,” Maddy realized as the full impact of everything Dylan had worked for crashed down. “He bought me.”

The cold front blew through earlier than predicted, and Madison woke up in the middle of the night with chattering teeth. She clicked on the bedside lamp, and drew the light comforter around her neck. The lodge had no central heat or air, and her grandfather had never seen the need to upgrade, as the building was only used in the summer, and normally the weather was palatable. As for the electric blanket, that had been the one thing the decorator had forgotten to replace.

Madison eyed the fireplace. Fatwood fire starters sat in a brass bin, and, in the log holder, wood of various circumferences stood ready and waiting. From previous years, Madison knew that within a half hour, a hot fire would heat the pink granite stones, and the stones would then radiate much needed warmth into the room. The vents on the side of the fireplace allowed warm air to circulate. In an hour, the room would be toasty.

She glanced at the clock. There were at least five hours left before daylight. She had to either get out of bed and make a fire, or suffer the chill. She’d never made a fire, especially since she couldn’t remember a summer cold enough to need one. Still,
how
difficult could one be?

“Brr!” Madison sputtered as her feet hit the wooden floor. She jerked open the dresser drawer and pulled out some socks. Hopping, she pulled them on and then followed
with her bathrobe.