Mia had to fight the urge to drop her face to her hands and weep. How could she have let things go this far?
Carla disappeared and Mia tried once again to rise from Dylan’s lap, but his arms tightened about her.
‘Do you really mean to ignore that kiss?’
His hand splayed against her hip, as if to urge her to feel what he was feeling.
‘That kiss was amazing...intense.’ His face darkened. ‘It was a whole lot more than just a kiss and you know it.’
Her heart thumped. If she let them, his words could weave a spell about her. She couldn’t let that happen.
‘Yes,’ she said. And then, so he knew what she was referring to, she added, ‘Yes, I do mean to ignore that kiss.’
Her words made him flinch. Heat gathered behind her eyes and her throat started to ache.
‘To punish yourself?’ The question was scratched out of him—a raw rasp.
‘No.’ She refused to let the tears building behind her eyes to fall. ‘To save myself.’
‘I don’t understand.’
The throb in his voice had her closing her eyes. ‘And I hope to God you never do.’
This time when she tried to get up he let her.
* * *
Dylan watched Mia walk away and his heart pounded against the walls of his ribs. He wanted her with a savagery that frightened him.
He couldn’t recall wanting Caitlin like this.
He couldn’t recall wanting any woman with this kind of hunger!
He wanted to shred their ground rules to pieces—tear them up and burn them. He wanted Mia in his bed.
But do you want her in your heart?
The roaring inside him screeched to a halt. He swallowed.
No.
But you’re prepared to seduce her? To make things harder for her.
He shot to his feet. He wouldn’t make them harder! He’d make sure she enjoyed every moment of their time together. He’d make her laugh and he’d lavish her with gifts. He’d give her anything she wanted.
Except the quiet life she craves.
He whirled around, hands fisted. She was wrong about that. She should be living life to the full—not hiding herself in the shadows. She should be living her life like the woman in Felipe’s photograph—full of joy and laughter. If only he could get her to see that.
If only...
He stilled. If he managed that, then maybe she’d rip up those ground rules herself and welcome some fun—some pleasure—into her life. It was worth a shot.
Thrusting out his jaw, he moved towards the house.
* * *
Mia sat at a picnic table, listlessly feeding a peacock what looked to be part of her usual lunchtime sandwich, and something in Dylan’s chest tightened. It was four days since their kiss and she looked pale and tired. She looked the way he felt. It didn’t give him the slightest sense of satisfaction or triumph.
He wanted her. His lips tightened. And she wanted him.
She had another think coming if she thought he’d give up. He wanted to know what she’d meant by saving herself, and he had every intention of finding out. Once he knew, he’d be able to develop a game plan for knocking down those walls of hers.
She half turned, as if she’d sensed his presence, dropping her sandwich when their gazes collided. The peacock immediately pounced on it.
Dylan forced his legs forward. ‘It’s just as well I brought these or you’d go hungry.’ He dropped a couple of chocolate bars to the table before taking the seat opposite. ‘How are you, Mia?’
‘I’m okay.’ She reached for one of the chocolate bars but didn’t unwrap it, worry lurking in the depths of her eyes. ‘How are you?’
He’d meant to tell her that he couldn’t sleep at night for thinking of her. Instead he shot her a grin and winked. ‘I’ll be a whole lot better once I’ve eaten this.’
He seized the second chocolate bar and was rewarded when her shoulders unhitched a fraction.
‘I’m glad you dropped by today,’ she said.
He stared at her. For a moment he felt like punching the air. He didn’t push her, though. He’d let her tell him why in her own time.
‘Carla asked me to give you this.’ He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘It’s Thierry’s veal scaloppini recipe.’
‘Why didn’t she give it to me herself?’
He shrugged, hoping he hadn’t given himself away. ‘She said she was busy.’ And he’d latched on to any excuse to see Mia. ‘Maybe she thought I’d see you first.’
‘Are you busy? There’s something I’d like you to see.’
‘I’m free as a bird.’ Even if he hadn’t been he’d have cancelled any appointment for her.
‘Good. Come with me.’
She led him along a narrow track through dense native forest. Everything was hushed and serene. He marvelled anew that such a place existed in the middle of the city. Mia didn’t talk and he was content to follow behind, admiring the dark lustre of her hair and the innate grace of her hips.
After ten minutes she slowed. Turning to him, she put a finger to her lips and then held down the branch of a Bottlebrush tree, gesturing for him to look.
He glanced at her, wondering what on earth she’d brought him here to see. He turned to survey the view and sucked in a breath. Moving closer, he held the branch for himself while Mia moved off to one side.
She’d brought him via a circuitous route to the far side of the lily pond. Just in front of him—no more than twenty yards away—stretched out on a picnic blanket, were Carla and Thierry. Carla’s head was in Thierry’s lap and he was idly combing his fingers through her hair. She laughed up at him at something he’d said.
Dylan’s heart started to thump. He stared from his sister’s face to her fiancé’s face and back again. Eventually Mia’s fingers wrapped about the top of his arm and she pulled him away. Pressing her finger to her lips again, she led him along a different path until they emerged into a rocky clearing. She sat on a boulder and stared at him with pursed lips.
He fell down onto a neighbouring rock, his mind racing. Finally he glanced across at her. ‘I have never seen Carla that happy.’
She nodded, as if the sight of that much happiness had awed her.
‘How did you know they were there?’
‘I accidentally stumbled across them on Monday. I noticed Thierry’s car in the car park a little while ago and figured they’d be there again today.’
‘She’s totally in love with him...and...and completely happy.’
‘Did you notice the way he looked at her?’
He had. An ache stretched behind his eyes. ‘He looked at her as if she were the most precious person on earth.’ His shot to his feet and paced up and down for a bit before swinging back to Mia. ‘A man who looks at a woman like that is never going to hurt her. He’s going to do everything in his power to protect her, to cherish her...to make her happy.’
Mia nodded.
He started to pace again. Seeing Carla and Thierry together like that, so unguarded, it should put his mind at rest...
He collapsed back on his rock and Mia reached out to clasp his hand briefly. ‘Dylan, you’re not losing Carla. You’re gaining a brother-in-law.’
‘But he’s such an unpleasant man!’
She sat back. ‘I suspect the more you get to know him, the better you’ll come to like him.’
Could she be right?
‘I also think...’
He glanced up, suddenly on guard. There was something too tight in her voice, which was at odds with the casual way she ran her fingers along a tall spike of native grass.
‘You also think...?’ he prompted.
She rubbed her hand across her throat, not looking at him. ‘I t
hink our dating pretence is no longer necessary.’
She told you kissing her would be a bad idea.
He hadn’t known it would have her bringing their relationship to such an abrupt halt!
There is no relationship.
But he wanted there to be. Not a relationship, exactly, but a relationship of sorts.
He was careful to keep his thoughts hidden. He didn’t want to scare her off more than he already had—didn’t want her retreating further. He hadn’t got where he was today by revealing his hand too soon.
‘You’re probably right,’ he said instead.
She seemed to tense up and then relax in equal measure. He ducked his head to hide his smile. Mia Maydew was one conflicted lady. If she’d just let him help solve that conflict...
‘Please tell me you’re not going to dump Carla as abruptly?’
Her head shot up. ‘Of course I’m not going to dump Carla. Carla and I will be friends for as long as she wants us to be friends.’ She folded her arms and glared at him. ‘And, Dylan, I hate to point this out, but I’m not dumping you either. We were never going out to begin with. We were only pretending.’
‘I wasn’t pretending when I kissed you. And I don’t care how good an actress you are, Mia, I don’t think you were pretending either.’
She moistened her lips and swallowed. The pulse at the base of her throat fluttered like a caged thing. A ravaging hunger swept through him. If he kissed her now, here in this quiet, private place where they wouldn’t be interrupted...
‘Don’t even think about it!’
Her eyes flashed fire. So much for not showing his hand. He stared at the ground and pulled in a breath, nodding. ‘Sorry, I lost my head for a moment—let it drift to where it shouldn’t have gone.’
He shoved his shoulders back and lifted his chin.
‘Though if I’m ever fortunate enough to make love with you, Mia, it’ll be in place where I’ll have the opportunity to show you in every way I know how just how beautiful and desirable I find you. There’ll be no rush. And your comfort will be paramount.’
Her eyes grew round.
He leaned in close. ‘I’ve no inclination for a quick roll on spiky grass, where we’d be half eaten by ants and mosquitos or happened upon by unsuspecting hikers. When I make love to you, Mia, I mean for you to be fully focussed on me.’
She swallowed.
He brushed his lips across her ear. ‘And when it happens I promise that you will be.’
She leapt away from him, glancing at her watch. ‘My lunchbreak is almost up. I have to get back to work.’
He followed her to the main picnic area. It was awash with people enjoying the afternoon sun.
A question pressed against the back of his throat, but he held it in until they were fully surrounded by people. ‘Will you give me one more fake date?’
Her hands went to her hips. ‘Why?’
It would give him something to work towards. It would give him time to come up with a plan to overcome her objections to an affair.
‘I want a chance to grill Thierry in a non-confrontational way, in a place that’s not intimidating...and you did invite us all to dinner.’
Her shoulders suddenly sagged. ‘I did, didn’t I?’
She’d only done it to try and keep the peace, to try and head off his uncle’s vitriol.
‘You can cry off if you want. I can make your excuses easily enough. Nobody will mind.’ He didn’t want her looking so careworn—not on his account. ‘Cooking for guests can be stressful if you haven’t done it in a while.’ He gave an exaggerated eye-roll. ‘And I suspect I’ve stressed you out enough already.’
Her lips twitched. ‘The cooking doesn’t worry me. It’s only for four—not fourteen.’
‘What does worry you, then?’
She hesitated. ‘My house.’
He couldn’t gauge what she meant, but the way her hands twisted together caught at him. ‘What’s wrong with your house? I know it’s small, but none of us are going to care about that.’
‘It looks like a prison cell.’
He winced at her bluntness.
‘It’s bare and uninviting and...and I’m ashamed of it.’
‘You’ve no reason to be ashamed of it. It’s clean and functional. Neither Carla nor I care about things like that. And if Thierry does then he’s an idiot.’
One slim shoulder lifted. ‘I know it shouldn’t matter. It’s just... I have no talent for making things look nice.’ She stared at a copse of trees. ‘Maybe I could get a magazine or two, for tips on how to make it look a bit better.’
‘I can help you with that.’
She raised an eyebrow, but he waved her scepticism away. ‘You don’t want a complete makeover. You just want it to look a little cheerier...a bit warmer, right?’
She nodded, but the wariness didn’t leave her eyes.
‘Look, I’m not an interior designer, but I’ve had to consult on set designs for concerts and themes for parties. Seriously, we could spruce up your little cottage with nothing more than a few accessories. I swear you’ll be amazed at how easy it is.’
She didn’t say anything.
‘What’s your budget?’ he asked, so she’d know he wasn’t offering to pay for anything, that he wasn’t trying to bribe her.
She named a sum that, while small, would easily cover what she needed.
He rubbed his hands together. ‘We can work with that.’
Her eyes narrowed. She folded her arms, her fingers drumming against her upper arms. ‘What on earth do you know about budgets?’
It was a fair question. ‘I had a crash course when I started up my company. And I’m given a budget from my clients for every event I take on. If I want to make money I have to stick to it.’
She glanced down at her hands. ‘I’m sorry—that was ungracious. Of course you—’
‘I’m a trust fund baby, Mia. If I chose I could live in the lap of luxury for the rest of my life without having to lift a finger. You’re not the first person to question my credentials.’
She stared up at him, a frown in her eyes. ‘You haven’t chosen to live that way, though.’
He shrugged. ‘I wanted something more. I wanted to create something of my own. Besides, the family tradition is not to sit idly back and rest on one’s laurels. And as neither law nor politics interested me...’
‘You decided to forge your own path?’
‘And—as you so succinctly reminded me last Saturday night—I should be proud of that. And I am.’
She nodded.
‘So, in return, will you let me help you decorate your cottage? We might not be dating for real, but there’s no rule that says we can’t be friends, is there?’
She chewed her lip.
Dylan’s heart dipped. ‘Is there?’
‘I...’
She moistened her lips and a sudden thirst welled inside him.
‘I’ve largely kept to myself since...over the last eleven months.’
Would she ever confide the hows and the whys that had landed her in prison? He could search out police reports, court records—and he had no doubt that Thierry had done exactly that—but he didn’t want to. He wanted Mia to tell him herself. It was obvious she regretted her crime. And she’d paid her debt to society. But her past still haunted her.
His heart surged against his ribs. ‘Do you resent my and Carla’s intrusion into your life?’
‘No. I... I’d forgotten how nice it is to have friends.’
As those words sank in his mouth dried. ‘I’m honoured to be your friend, Mia.’ He swallowed. ‘Carla would say the same if she were here. Neither of us take our friends for granted.’
‘I know. It seems strange, when we’re from such different backgrou
nds, that we can have so much in common.’
He rolled his shoulders in an effort to loosen the tension in them. ‘Shall we go shopping, then? On Saturday? To spruce up your cottage?’
‘I’m working till midday.’
‘I’ll call for you at one.’
‘Um...’
She hesitated, and he knew it was a big step for her.
‘Okay.’
He gave in to the temptation of kissing her cheek. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday.’
When he reached the end of the path he looked back to find her still watching him. He lifted his hand in farewell. With a visible start she waved back, before disappearing along a path between the office and a picnic table.
His hands clenched. Had anyone ever put her first? Fought for her? Put everything on the line for her?
He knew the answer in his bones—no, they hadn’t.
Do you want to be the next person to let her down?
He wasn’t going to let her down! He was going to show her how to live. When they parted company, she’d be glad they’d met. That was his objective.
* * *
Mia gazed around her tiny living room and could barely credit the difference a few knick-knacks made. She’d never had a chance to try her hand at decorating before. Her father had maintained a rigid view on what was and wasn’t respectable—a line her mother had never crossed—and Mia hadn’t even been allowed to put up posters in her room. She’d learned early on that it was easier to submit and keep the peace than to rebel.
When she’d met Johnnie his home had already been beautifully furnished. She’d been in awe of his taste. And in the two years between leaving home and moving in with Johnnie she’d lived such a hand-to-mouth existence there’d been no money left over for decorating the mean little rooms she’d rented.
And then there’d been prison. She’d learned to make do with as little as possible there. She’d left the place with the same attitude, but for the first time she questioned that wisdom. It was true that she didn’t want to get too attached to material things—like Johnnie had. But it wasn’t a crime to make her living space comfortable. It wasn’t a crime to make it welcoming for visitors.
‘Earth to Mia?’
An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire Page 13