Electrifying Chemistry: A Rebel Billionaire Trilogy

by Maggie Twain

  I would only make her miserable. And I could not do that to Haley. I couldn’t. Not for any amount of money.

  Maybe I should have listened to Carey and watched Butch instead, at least then I would have been prepared for that little surprise visit. Was Sara real or is Butch playing games? It’s not unlike him. He was always the joker of the pack. But something like this is going far beyond what’s normal for him. Or is it? Do I even know Butch anymore? And remember, we’re playing for ten billion dollars here.

  Anything’s possible.

  All except for my victory.

  Because I’ve already lost.

  After another hour I manage to hit the elusive runner’s high, the feeling of euphoria, of invincibility that so rarely overcomes runners. Endorphins flood my system, removing all the pain and fatigue from my body. I forget all my problems and all I want to do is run and run, my happy place, where the only thing that exists is me, my dreams and a rubber belt being pounded thousands upon thousands of times. Even the need for water is diminished when I’m in the runner’s high, a phenomenon that would make me the world’s richest man, if only there was a way of bottling it. By the time it’s wearing off, I feel the fatigue assail my body, the thirst and the knowledge that ultimately, nothing has been solved. Outside, the first cracks of daylight are showing and a short while later the birds begin singing their cheerful morning songs.

  All night I’ve been running.

  I bring the tread to a stop, my entire body slippery with stinging sweat and turn around…

  And stop.

  Because Haley is standing there. “Hey, um, if we’re having this baby, hadn’t you better first take me for breakfast?”

  Chapter Seven

  Haley

  I wait nervously for him to leave the shower, he’s been in there a long time. “Such a clean freak.” From what I know about Decker, that’s hardly a surprise.

  “Did he really spend the whole night running on that treadmill?” If true then that’s kind of impressive.

  There’s much I want to know about this man.

  Now that I’m looking, the carpet at the edges is stained with what has to be sweat. Buckets of it. At least he’s not afraid of his own juices. It’s a strange contradiction for sure. Or is it? I stir and feel a thrumming in a place that has never been touched. Some of his juices will soon be going inside of me. Just not the way I’d like them to.

  I can’t help but release a deep sigh. “Don’t fall for him, Hayles, you can’t, nothing good can ever come of it.” No. I have to think like he does. I must treat this as a business transaction. Remain detached, Hayles, you must. It’s definitely for the best.

  All I’ve done since he left me forlorn at the roadside outside my new apartment is think about him, his proposition, the one that was never even put to me. He’d given me everything and then asked for nothing in return, not even that one thing he truly wanted, needed, more than anything else in the world. He’s a good man. And when I was lying in a new bed in a freshly furnished apartment so close to my campus, I had nothing but time in which to think on my meeting with Decker.

  And think I did.

  I was unable to do anything else. And when I roused from one of the most peaceful sleeps of my life, knowing that my problems had been snapped away by the actions of one man, I was still thinking about him. His strong jaw, rugged stubble, wavy blond curls swept back and the way he makes me feel so protected.

  I have it in my power to help a magnificent man, to ease his burden just as he eased mine, to return the magical favor he did for me. And I know that Decker would make a great dad.

  The water stops and for the tenth time, I quickly check my appearance in the mirror. I still look malnourished but at least now I can afford to eat. “Don’t get yourself too deep now, Hayles,” I have to remind myself and then the door opens and Decker comes striding out looking like a million dollars in a suit that probably cost that much.

  He stops a few paces in front of me and for a wonderful few seconds it almost seems like he has no problems in the world and that he’s drinking up my presence standing so close. It almost feels like he’s about to close the gap between us, to sweep me off my feet and carry me away but then he blinks and the realization returns, that he’s afraid, and then my world comes crashing down.

  I was prepared for this, of course, and quickly delve inside my bag to produce my mask before fixing it in place.

  His hand clenches into a fist. “Thank you.” He hates this as much as I do. “Follow me.”

  He leads me to the side of the building where a bunch of those little golf buggies are parked and says, “get in.”

  “What?” My hands clasp together beneath my chin. “Are you serious?”

  He pats the roof and gestures with a hand toward the seat. “Sure, I’ll race you across the course.”

  I’m absolutely giddy with excitement. “But I’ve never…”

  “It’s easy,” he certainly sounds reassuring as he jumps into the buggy beside mine and starts forwards, “besides, I’m not sure what damage even you can do at twelve miles per hour.”

  There’s only one pedal and a steering wheel. What could possibly go wrong? I don’t hold a driving license but this seems easy enough even for a child, and we’re on private land and the owner has given me permission. I park my ass and grip the wheel. “Ok, but can we go slow, I…” I slam down the pedal and slip past him, poking out my tongue as I do.

  His mouth plunges comically open. “How dare you,” he shouts after me and I hear him hard on my six even though he’s unable to gain much ground at such a snail’s pace.

  We hit grass and now I have no choice but to slow down because I have absolutely no idea where we’re even going. Ahead is only open space of lush greenery, too early for anybody to be playing. I probably should have thought this through before crawling ahead of him. “Um, where are we going?”

  He inches slowly up on my three. “Straight forward with a slight inclination to the right.”

  I think I see what he means. “That tool shed?” Ooh, yes please.

  He laughs. “That tool shed happens to be a summerhouse I built myself. You will apologize for the slight, madam.”

  “I will do nothing of the sort, sir.” My foot presses even harder against the floor but this stupid thing is already at top speed and no ground is gained. “Won’t this thing go any faster?”

  “You can never escape me.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  We go over a mound and through a sandbank and then I angle my buggy closer to his and thrust my hand into the tarpaulin roof, throwing rainwater off the top and splashing it over Decker’s face.

  The look he gives me is priceless. He has a bottle of water, which I had no way of anticipating, and I’m too slow to move away before he can slosh it all over me from a distance.

  My frock is drenched and then we’re going over the putting green, narrowly missing the flag. The next three minutes are a hilarious race to reach the summerhouse first, in a vehicle I could probably outrun as we trade insults and putdowns, fling at each other whatever’s not nailed down from inside our buggies and all the while neither of us is able to gain but a single inch on the other. Our wheels are grazing against each other’s as we pull up neck and neck just before the door, the smell of rubber overwhelming the otherwise fresh air.

  Decker’s laughing as he slaps the wheel. “Close but I think I won by a nose.”

  “No, you did not!” I’m definitely adamant about this.

  He leaps from his buggy and flings open the summerhouse door before ushering me inside and closing it after us.

  We’re alone.

  From a few meters away, his eyes immediately roam over my dress, particularly where it’s wet and clings hard to my breasts. There’s no mistaking the way he gazes at me, how his eyes are undressing me, and it’s beyond reassuring to know, indeed, to physically feel, that at least there’s nothing wrong with him there, or with me for that matter, and that
he’s completely normal in that regard. His Adam’s apple pulses when he swallows and he has to pull himself away towards the large table that’s been set with an enormous breakfast spread.

  I’m devastated and sigh inwardly, and I’m careful to hide my disappointment when he gestures to my seat that’s painfully far away from his.

  “Breakfast, madam,” he says with an audible strain.

  The table’s large enough that we can sit at opposite sides without it being a problem for him, even though it’s becoming a progressively greater problem for me. But no, if anything, as he takes his seat and I see the frustration twisting on his lips, I’m beginning to suspect he’s finding the enforced distance an even greater problem for himself.

  Up until this point, I’ve barely even noticed the interior but now I take a moment to appreciate the beautiful simplicity of it. The brightness flooding in through the windows and the stunning eastern view as the sun rises over Boston while to the west, the country club in all its magnificence dominates from across the golf course. The interior is filled with all kinds of pretty plants, furnishings and smells of lavender. Thankfully, there’s no treadmill.

  I heap my plate with pastries and pour myself some coffee from the waiting cafetière. “Did you really build this?”

  He transfers a spoonful of freshly diced melon to his plate. “I sawed, planed and painted every single piece of wood myself.” He grins with pride as he plasters jam over a croissant. “It was meant as my place of solitude. I do my thinking on the treadmill but here is where I relax and carry out my reflection.” His eyes turn down. “There’s been so much on my mind, I’ve not spent as much time in here as I’d have liked recently.”

  I’d like nothing more than to help Decker the way he helped me. I note there’s another room behind a closed door beyond him and I want so badly to ask if it contains a bed. I can’t go there, I mustn’t, so I stick to the topic at hand, I’m interested anyway, for obvious reasons. “I love the job you’ve done with this little summerhouse, as a student of architecture, I mean.” I’m waffling but Decker’s leaning forwards listening, apparently, intently. I can’t help but make a sighing sound. “I think I could easily spend all summer in here and I can’t think of a more peaceful place to study.”

  “Well, you’re welcome to stop by any time you want.” He actually sounds like he means it.

  I glance to my left and my eyes fix on a framed image of Decker wearing a hard hat and holding what has to be a blueprint. Beyond him, it almost looks like the Carrington Country Club, but it can’t be, because the only thing I can see are the foundations. My jaw drops open. “Wait … did you design the big place too?”

  His jaw tilts up with pride and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that I’ve never seen on him before. “I didn’t want to say it but I also took architecture at Harvard. I designed the club as part of my thesis and started building pretty much the day after I graduated.” He holds out his arms as if to encompass our surroundings. “This whole place was a sort of childhood dream of mine. Every last detail has been conceived from my own imagination.” He smiles with sadness. “There’s still so much I’d like to do, but…” he trails off, there’s no need for him to finish, I know what he means. He could well lose this special place that has been his entire life’s work.

  I’m completely stunned by his revelation. “Decker,” I feel myself wanting to stand so that I can embrace him but I have to remind myself, again, that doing such a thing would be suicide, “you’re incredible.”

  He waves away my praise, all modest. “I can tell you’re surprised that it’s only twelve years old, yet it looks at least two hundred. Why ruin a great city with any more modern monstrosities, right?”

  I nod along to his every word, oblivious to the fact I’m even doing it. I’ve always felt the same about architecture, that the old ways are the best, and would hope to one day design old-style buildings for the modern age. “Is that why you picked me, because I’m studying to become an architect?”

  “No,” he shakes his head assuredly, “I wanted a woman who was healthy, intelligent and beautiful, traits any man would want his children to inherit.” He thinks I’m beautiful. “That an architect would be the very first person to drop by my office was merely the universe proving that it doesn’t always conspire to knock you down but that very occasionally, it can do wondrous things too.” I could certainly relate to that since Decker showed up. His breakfast remains untouched. “The trick is in recognizing when fate gives you a gift so that you know never to let it go.”

  My eyes glaze over, his words are so poetic and beautiful. “Um…I, um…”

  “Haley,” very suddenly, his voice is authoritative and strong, and my stuttering is silenced, “are you absolutely sure this is what you want to do? Do you truly wish to have my baby?”

  “Yes.” Just to hear his voice, to look into his eyes, to be here with him now is to know the answer with all my heart. “Decker, I would like to have your baby.”

  The next two days I’m busy with classes, though I still have more free time than ever thanks to being able to quit my job, both of them. Because of Decker, I’m no longer Peter Parker, but Haley Olsen, and I can now fully concentrate on my studies.

  Decker schedules a meeting with a doctor he’s bringing over specially from Switzerland. He arrives so soon after that wonderful summerhouse breakfast that I figure the only way it could have been possible was if he’d jumped immediately on a chartered jet.

  Doctor Herrera is one of the leaders in the field of in vitro fertilization and although I’m understandably nervous throughout our first consultation, I’m pleased and extremely relieved when Decker attends the meeting as well. Admittedly, he spends the entire duration standing next to the opened window but he proves keen to learn about the process, asks questions and stays right until the very end. I’m not doing this alone. He’s going to be with me every step of the way.

  For the next ten days, Doctor Herrera will be giving me daily follicle-stimulating hormone injections in order to promote the growth of follicles containing eggs. Things are getting real now and I’m both scared and excited for what lies up ahead.

  After the meeting, we exit the consultation room from when Decker leads me into a quiet corner of the clinic and I can’t help but feel like we’re being naughty, hiding in some forbidden nook of a busy building and might be discovered at any moment. It’s almost like one of my fantasies is being realized but not quite. Sigh, a girl can dream. I mirror his position, leaning against the wall about two meters away.

  “Carey’s gathering your things, right now.”

  “What?”

  Not far away, footsteps clap against the tiles. His voice is a deep, quiet rumble. “You’re moving into the club. I need to know you’re safe every minute of every day and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  It sounds like I couldn’t argue even if I wanted to, which I don’t. “But…” I’m squinting hard at this news, “you just paid my entire rent until the end of the semester.” He shrugs, not giving much of a shit by the looks of it. “You know, Decks, that’s not what I call the best use of money.” The last few months have certainly taught me the value of every cent.

  His hand starts to move forwards but then, it’s almost like he remembers and pulls back, leaving me once again devastated. “You’re more important than any amount of money.” But then, sometimes his words have the effect of fixing everything and so much more.

  “Decker…”

  “You’re moving in and that’s all there is to it.” Whose room, I’m just about to enquire, but then he brings me back down again. “There’s a suite close to mine I’ve recently had refurbished. It’s one of the best in the entire club. Oh,” he continues as I feel only floods of disappointment, “and Carey will chauffeur you too and from college. Every day. He’ll even watch over your classes, should it be necessary.”

  I laugh, even though he’s completely serious. “I don’t think that last bit will be needed,
but thanks.”

  In fact, he goes further than merely moving me into the club and giving me my own suite, as I was to find out when Carey brought me back from campus later that day.

  “Haley, I’d like you to meet Erin.” Decker says from a safe distance. We’re standing outside in a patch of unused ground he always says he has plans for.

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Haley.” Erin gives me a hug and I raise an eyebrow at the man over her shoulder.

  “Erin’s your new best friend.” Decker grins and it’s obvious he’s been mischievous in my absence and is enjoying my bafflement.

  “My what?” I pull away. If only I could see my face right now.

  He’s doing a very bad job of hiding that grin. “We’re doing this right, right? Which means you need to start living healthy.”

  The lady looks a few years older than me and is tall and athletic with perfect posture. “I’m your new trainer.”

  Decker twists away to gaze into a plan he unrolls. “About twenty by thirty ought to do it.”

  “What?”

  He glances back at Erin. “And stop being modest, Erin, you’re a mean chef too.”

  Hmmm, so it looks like I have a new personal trainer, a new chef and quite possibly a new shadow.

  Erin surveys my form from where I stand hopeless in jeans, flats and a heavy backpack slung over a shoulder that no longer seems to chafe from the weight. “Ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes?” I’m almost giddy with confusion.

  “You have a circuit class, so get changed … quick now!”

  The last thing I hear as I skulk off inside with the slave driver is Decker’s laughing, and although I’m secretly absolutely loving that he’s taking such great care of me, I’d never say as much.

  Unfortunately, due to Decker’s workload, I don’t see him for a couple of days, but when finally he announces his presence, it was definitely worth the wait a hundred times over.