[The Sons of Lily Moreau 03] - Capturing the Millionaire

by Marie Ferrarella

  Remembering was like walking on glass, barefoot. But if she was evasive, he was going to think that she was hiding things. The only thing she wanted to hide was her own stupidity.

  “On a scale of one to ten?” she finally asked.

  He nodded. “If that works for you, okay.”

  She sighed. “Twelve.”

  Something inside his chest sank. “You loved him that much?” She looked at Alain sharply. Lost in her own thoughts, she hadn’t realized how he might interpret her answer. “Oh, no. No,” she repeated with feeling. “The twelve rating is based on how hard it was for me to get rid of him—physically. I had to move.” Flee would have been a better word, she thought.

  The facts weren’t fitting together for him. “I thought you said you lived in that house forever.” “I have.” She’d been born there, and now it was her haven, as well. “But there was a break in time when I went upstate to get my degree.” She’d been accepted by several veterinary colleges. Fate had her deciding to attend the one she’d chosen. “I met Brett in San Francisco.” She could see Alain was waiting for more. “And I lived there with him even after I graduated.”

  Jealousy snaked through his belly, burrowing in. “How long?” “Long enough to learn I’d made a mistake.” A rueful smile played on her lips. What would life have been like for her had she gone to school in San Diego? Or even out of state? “First seven months were very good. Perfect.” And they had been. Which made the months that followed even more awful. “He was warm, funny, attentive.” The rueful smile faded as she remembered, even as she tried to keep her thoughts at bay. “And then he began to relax.”

  Alain didn’t follow her. “Relax?” Kayla nodded. Music began to softly play in the background. In the distance, a dance floor was being cleared. But she stood there, on the edge of her past, trying not to let the memory of that period of time draw her into darkness.

  “His facade. There was a temper, a rather bad one, that he’d been keeping under wraps. Once he thought he had me, he stopped trying to bank it down.” She frowned. “He had a tendency to shout when he was angry, and he was angry almost all the time,” she remembered.

  Alain wanted to ask her why she didn’t leave, but he wanted to know something else even more. “Did he hit you?” Kayla hated this, hated remembering a time she was ashamed of. It was a side of herself she hadn’t known existed, a side that was weak. Vulnerable. Dependant. After it was over, after it was behind her, she’d sworn to herself never to be weak again. Not like that. Not to the point where her self-respect was sacrificed. Shrugging, she looked away, not wanting to see pity in Alain’s eyes.

  “A shove here, a slap there. Nothing to really leave marks,” she added quickly, knowing that was no justification. “I told myself it was stress doing it to him, that he didn’t mean it. That if I only made life easier for him, he wouldn’t lose his temper, wouldn’t get so angry.” What an idiot she’d been. It wasn’t anything that countless other women didn’t think, didn’t feel, but it made it no easier to live with. Alain wanted to protect her, to gather her in his arms and make her forget it ever happened. More than that, he wanted to beat into a bloody pulp the snake who’d made her feel this way.

  “What made you finally leave?”

  The rueful smile was back as she raised her head and looked at him. “He hit the dog.”

  “Your pet?” he guessed. It made sense. She wouldn’t put up with his doing something to a defenseless animal. She nodded. “A stray I’d brought home with me. He was pathetic,” she remembered fondly. “Skinny, malnourished, with sores on half his body. I knew I had to save him, to make him better. Brett almost lost it when I brought the dog home, but I managed to convince him to him stay.

  “That last night I was there he really lost his temper over something. I can’t remember what anymore.” She shrugged. “Something stupid. It was always something stupid. Anyway, he swung, and I moved out of his way. He wound up hitting the dog. The dog whimpered, Brett yelled some more, and something just snapped inside of me. The next morning, I waited until he was at work and then I cleared out my stuff from the apartment, took Petey and never looked back.”

  Alain assumed Petey had to be the dog. “He didn’t try to find you?” She shook her head. “I don’t think his ego would have been able to process the fact that I’d left him. And he never asked where I’d lived before, so he couldn’t track me down.” Nevertheless, she’d spent a very edgy twelve months before she felt remotely safe.

  “How long ago was that?”

  “Five years.” She knew it down to the day, but didn’t bother adding on the months, weeks and days. “I got involved in the rescue society shortly after that.” She smiled and the serious aura around her vanished. “And the rest is history.”

  “What happened to Petey?” Alain was pretty sure he hadn’t heard her refer to any of the dogs in the house by that name. Had her pet died? “I gave him to a little girl who’d just lost her mother.” Kayla shrugged casually. “Seemed like the thing to do. She needed him more than I did. They’re inseparable now,” she added.

  Moved, Alain found that words failed him. She seemed to do that to him, make his stock-in-trade disappear. So instead of talking, he leaned over and kissed her. It was a soft, sweet kiss that nonetheless made her pulse jump in anticipation. When Alain drew back, she looked at him, stunned but pleased. “What was that for?”

  He slipped his arm around her waist, a bevy of emotions all elbowing each other out of the way. “For being you.”

  That confused her. But it was a nice confusion, she thought. “All right.” It had been one hell of a party. By the time it was over, they’d garnered, according to Lily, close to ninety-five thousand dollars in pledges. Hailing from an area where people thought five thousand dollars was a great deal of money, the sum was staggering to Kayla.

  But even more important than the money was the fact that she had also managed to place nearly thirty dogs with people on the strength of her recommendations—sight unseen.

  “You’re quite a saleswoman.” There was admiration in Alain’s voice.

  Even though the words were flattering, Kayla found it really hard to concentrate. They were back at his place, in his bed, and as he spoke, he was slowly stroking her. They’d already made love once, but she could feel herself responding to him all over again. Wanting to make love again. Never wanting to stop.

  God, but it was glorious, being here with him like this. “I’d rather think of myself as a matchmaker,” she told him, doing her best to sound as if she didn’t have a care in the world. “Matching up people with pets that are going to make their lives warmer, nicer.” She turned toward him, smiling. “There’s nothing as soothing as stroking a dog’s fur.”

  He played his fingers along her body and grinned. “You might be onto something there,” he agreed. “Because I don’t feel soothed right now.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “I feel exceedingly aroused.”

  “So what are we going to do about that?” “Guess.”

  She didn’t have to. He was already showing her.

  Chapter 15 Ever since he could remember, Alain had been an extremely heavy sleeper. Thunderstorms and sirens were known to leave him unaroused. When they were much younger, Philippe had commented more than once that Alain could probably sleep through the Apocalypse if it happened in their lifetime.

  Which was why he hadn’t woken up when Kayla left his bed.

  The midmorning Sunday sun had long since pushed its way into every corner of the bedroom, warming it and him, before he finally, reluctantly, opened his eyes.

  And immediately saw that the space beside him was empty.

  “Kayla?”

  When there was no answer, Alain raised his voice and called her name again. With the same results. Winchester was on the floor next to his side of the bed, pressed flat on the rug as if he’d been run over by a steamroller. When Alain swung his legs down, the dog was instantly awake, instantly ready to go.

  But
as eager to please as the he was, the German shepherd couldn’t answer the question his master shot in his direction. “Where is she, boy? Where’s Kayla?”

  Kayla had certainly made a believer out of him, Alain thought, mildly amused. She had him asking the dog to take him to her. Winchester’s only response was to wag his tail and present his head to be petted. Alain spared him one quick scratch behind the ears before he padded across the rug to investigate Kayla’s whereabouts.

  The bathroom door was wide open. He didn’t have to look in to know she wasn’t there, but did, anyway.

  With a sigh, he grabbed a pair of jeans from the closet and pulled them on. Closing the snap, he noticed that the clothes he’d worn last night and discarded with abandonment were no longer flung every which way on the floor. Instead, they were neatly folded and piled on his bureau. Nesting instincts? He could hope so.

  But then he saw that her gown, which had adhered sensuously to her body like a glimmering second skin, and which he’d more than happily peeled off, was nowhere to be seen. Had she decided to wear it again this morning, to make last night’s enchantment spin out a little longer?

  Something told him he was building castles in the air.

  “Kayla?”

  Alain checked the guest room and saw that the clothes she’d worn when she had arrived yesterday were gone, as well.

  Uneasiness began to skitter through him like an insect across a checkered linoleum floor.

  Was this the answer she’d promised to give him? The one in response to the proposal that had popped out of his mouth? Somewhere in the dead of night, after the lovemaking had left him enveloped in a sweet, seductive afterglow, he’d heard himself whispering words to her he never thought he’d say to any woman.

  “Will you marry me?” The moment the question was out, he’d felt Kayla stiffen against him, as if she was expecting a physical blow. And then she’d laughed as she relaxed again. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

  He’d caressed her face, wanting to make love with her again. But he was far too exhausted to attempt it. As for the alcohol, maybe he’d had a tiny bit more than usual. He’d let her drive them home, but he was by no means too intoxicated to know what he was saying.

  “Maybe that’s what’s giving me the courage to ask,” he’d told her. And maybe, in hindsight, that had been a wee bit too honest. But he felt he could be open with her. Felt he could be himself—without consequences. She’d made him feel so differently about everything.

  “So,” he’d finally pressed, when she gave him no answer, “will you? Marry me,” repeated, in case she’d lost sight of the question during the silence.

  “I’ll let you know in the morning,” she’d promised, and he’d heard the smile in her voice. A smile that warmed him from the inside out. “If you still want to ask me.”

  “I will,” he guaranteed with feeling, slipping his arms around her.

  He fell asleep holding her.

  And now here it was, morning. And he couldn’t find her.

  Was this her way of giving him his answer?

  He felt upset; he felt relieved. He felt damn confused.

  Maybe this was for the best, after all.

  No, damn it, it wasn’t. He wanted to marry her. For the first time in his life, he wanted to get married.

  The irony of the situation was not lost on him. Alain called her name again, a little more urgently this time, as he hurried down the stairs. Winchester bounded down beside him and, as always, made it to the landing first.

  “Kayla!”

  Alain’s voice echoed back to him. “I think she left us, boy,” he murmured dejectedly, striding to a window that faced the front of the house.

  Her truck was no longer parked by the curb. Rather than face him, rather than face his proposal again, she’d left before he woke up.

  He’d never been rejected before. Alain couldn’t say he liked it. Dragging a hand through his hair, he went to the kitchen to make coffee. If he was going to figure things out, figure out how he felt about this turn of events and what his next move was going to be, he needed coffee. Lots of coffee. Black, like the mood that was swiftly descending over him.

  Kayla tried to go about her life as if it were business as usual. As if her painfully reconstructed world hadn’t just experienced an 8.9 earthquake, knocking out all the foundations beneath it.

  Alain had asked her to marry him. And scared the hell out of her. Because he was asking her to risk everything, to risk having her heart ripped out of her chest again and used for soccer practice.

  She sighed, shaking her head as she continued grooming Audrey, the dog she’d promised to Lily.

  Brett had done a number on her, Kayla admitted. He’d made her leery of trusting her own judgment. Because of him, she was afraid to savor the simple joy of falling in love. Her fear of disappointment blocked out everything else.

  So, when faced with Alain’s proposal, she’d run. Run instead of answering him. Run back to what she knew.

  And he hadn’t tried to call her, hadn’t come after her. Hadn’t sent out carrier pigeons to try to get in contact with her.

  It wasn’t as if she’d just disappeared into thin air. She’d gone home. Alain knew where that was. And he hadn’t followed her. Which told her that it had been the alcohol talking that night when he’d proposed. Alcohol and nothing more. Certainly not his heart. And as each day faded into night without him calling or coming by, she grew more and more certain that she’d been right not to say yes, not to ask “How high?” when her heart had told her to jump.

  And with each passing day, the gaping hole in her life just seemed to grow larger.

  Unlike the last time, or whenever she was monumentally upset, working didn’t help.

  Nothing took her mind off Alain, or the pain she felt because he didn’t care.

  The way she did. “What’s the matter with me, Audrey?” she asked, annoyed with herself. She rubbed a towel against the wet fur. “I didn’t even know him for that long.” She rocked back on her heels, the towel in her hand. “How can you fall in love with someone so fast? I don’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, maybe,” she allowed, “but not love.” But it had been love, pure and simple, because she was fairly certain that lust didn’t hurt this way. It didn’t make you feel as if the sun had suddenly been extinguished, leaving you to find your way in the dark.

  God, this felt terrible.

  She realized she was crying again, and blinked, wiping away the stray tear that managed to reach her cheek. “The next guy who crashes into a tree on my property I’m leaving there,” she said, looking into Audrey’s big brown eyes. The shepherd’s response was to raise up on her hind legs and lick Kayla’s face, and she laughed despite herself. “That was my first problem. I let him kiss me.” And that was the beginning of her downfall, she thought. Because the man made the world fade away.

  With a sigh, she frowned, thinking about what she had to do. She’d promised to bring Lily her new pet. And Philippe had asked for one of Ginger’s puppies. The dogs needed a home more than she needed to hide. But how was she going to face these people and act as if everything was all right?

  She pressed her lips together, thinking. Alain’s family probably had no idea that there was anything out of the ordinary going on. Kayla was willing to bet he hadn’t told any of them that he’d proposed. Or that he’d willingly let her go.

  There was no question in her mind that she was going to keep her word. And she had to do it now. It was, she told herself, like pulling a thorn out of your hand. You had to do it quickly. The longer you delayed, the more frightening the proposition seemed, and the longer it was before you could begin healing.

  With a sigh, she went to get the puppy she’d selected for Philippe, a mischievous, affectionate female she’d mentally dubbed Duchess.

  She forced herself to focus on the dogs and on nothing else. His pride hurt, Alain tried his best to forget about Kayla. But his best wasn’t good enough. He just couldn’t
seem to shake off her influence. She’d made him see everything through different eyes. Even the cases he worked. It wasn’t about winning anymore. It was about, God help him, doing the right thing.

  Which was why he found himself paying a visit to Bobbie Jo Halliday. He was determined to appeal to her better nature. Even if he had to bribe her to do it. And he wasn’t about to back down until he’d hammered out something acceptable to his client that was still generous to the deceased’s children. Despite what his firm might say to the contrary, this was only fair.

  And Kayla had taught him how important it was to play fair. Kayla first went to Lily’s house and then to Philippe’s, all the while hoping against hope that she might run into Alain, even though she told herself she’d be better off if she didn’t.

  Well, she didn’t, and God knew she didn’t feel better off. What she felt, damn him, was bereft.

  The song on the radio annoyed her. All the songs on the radio annoyed her. Why did people have to keep singing about finding “the right one”?

  With a huff, she switched it off.

  She wished she’d brought another dog along. As it was, the loneliness was eating holes in her. Making her feel empty. Kayla’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. The freeways were moving at a good, fast pace and she was making incredible time.

  Time to do what? Return home and be hit between the eyes with how empty everything was there, as well? Despite the fact that the place was now packed with eight puppies and six adult dogs?

  Why did everything feel so empty just because Alain wasn’t in it? She’d lived all this time without the man. Why was it so hard to continue doing that now?

  Taking the turn to her house, Kayla suddenly felt her heart leap into her throat. Joy, anticipation, excitement all vied for top position.

  Someone was sitting on her doorstep. Someone who, from this distance, looked just like Alain.