Her First Love Billionaire

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Her First Love Billionaire Page 7

by Taylor Hart


  Her mind flashed to the boarding school her parents spoke of whenever she acted out, the one with the nuns and the bars on the windows. “No!” Tears filled her eyes as she wished she could contact Damon. “Give me my phone!”

  Her father laughed and picked it up from the center console. He rolled down the window, tossing it out. “Can’t.” His jaw was hard.

  “No!” she cried again.

  “Stop it!” her mother snapped.

  Madison cried harder and hit the seat with her hands. “Let me out! Let me out!”

  Her father sped up. “Not a chance!” He pressed the child lock next to him.

  She cried and begged to go back, but her parents wouldn’t give an inch. When they drove to the boarding school in the center of Boston, she tried to fight them, to stay in the car, but her father yanked her out and carried her inside.

  The last thing she remembered, as the staff held her back, was her mother crying.

  For the next year, she lived her life as a prisoner.

  Chapter 13

  Madison, Present Day

  For two weeks, Madison was jittery and on edge. Every time her boss asked if she’d had a chance to thank Damon Duke, she’d made some lame excuse about Herbert and the wedding plans or about the grant she was writing.

  She felt bad, but she couldn’t reach out to Damon. The man was like lightning in a bottle to her. She wouldn’t risk being vulnerable again, like when she’d fallen apart the year after boarding school. And she was already vulnerable enough with her condition and her mother, not to mention still unsure how to tell Herbert she wouldn’t marry him. A rush of nervous jitters swarmed in her gut.

  “Madison.” Herbert’s voice dripped with long-suffering patience.

  With a jerk, she quickly put her phone down on the dinner table. He’d brought her to a fancy restaurant, but he’d been doing business on his phone. “Hey.”

  “You’ve been distracted since I picked you up earlier.”

  “You’re the one who said you had to answer some emails on your phone.” She picked up a salad fork and dug into the food she hadn’t touched. Part of her thought she should tell Herbert that Damon had kissed her; another part of her regretted lying to him about knowing Damon in the first place. She knew he wouldn’t take something like that lightly.

  “I’m sorry.” He reached across the table and took her hand, flashing a fake, political smile at her. “Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” His eyes her swept up and down, and he waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe we could have a repeat performance of a few weeks ago.”

  Inwardly, she cringed.

  “It seems like we haven’t had time for us.” He put his other hand over the top of hers. “I was thinking you could come on a little trip with me.”

  “Uh, I have to work.” She tugged her hands back and picked up the fork. “Mr. Reed wants the grant finished soon.”

  He scoffed and leaned back. “You know you don’t have to work. When we’re married, you won’t need to work at all. In fact …” He tried to meet her gaze.

  She stared into his pale green eyes.

  “I would prefer you didn’t work after we marry so you can attend to my needs.”

  The hairs on the back of her neck pricked up. Engrid had been right; this man freaked her out in so many ways. She felt trapped. How would she get away now that she was having his child? Her hand trembled and she put the fork down. “I like my work,” she said quietly.

  He picked up his fork and sliced his steak. “I know. I know you do, and you’re so good at helping people. Maybe you and my mother can discuss projects you can help with when you’re not with me.” He smirked. “You can be with our mothers.”

  She sputtered out a laugh. “Herbert, I’m not going to be with our mothers all the time, and I can’t be with you every second.”

  His eyes hardened for a moment. “We’ll talk about that once we’re married.”

  She focused on the salad. Would she keep her food down? Most mornings she found she was sick, but the sickness usually lessened by the afternoon.

  “Sweetheart.” His voice was smooth.

  She felt a surge of guilt. Even if he was a bit creepy, didn’t he deserve to know he was having a child? “Yeah?”

  Herbert chomped on his salad and she realized every mouthful irritated her. She hated the way he chewed. “Have you thought about a date for the wedding?”

  “No,” she snapped. She hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she wasn’t going to budge. Herbert wanted to start putting it out to his political people to save the date. “I’m so stressed with this grant. I just need to focus on that first.”

  The waitress dropped off more napkins and grazed Herbert when she poured more water, flashing him a grin. Gross! Madison wanted to shout. She’d complained about how Herbert attracted weird attention from women. Herbert always dismissed it, asking if she was jealous. Her heart raced. How had she gotten into this mess?

  Herbert sawed more of the steak and spoke while chewing. “You can’t put me off forever, princess. A date has to be decided upon quickly.” He leaned back. “Mother wants to start booking the best places for our venues.”

  Opting to ignore him, she glanced around the fancy restaurant and picked at her salmon.

  He sighed. “So, how is the grant coming?”

  She tried to relax and not think about how she would get away from him. Especially since her mother was completely Team Herbert. “It’s been a lot of work, but I’m almost done with it. I do have a deadline, so I probably need to head back to my place soon and sequester myself to my apartment all weekend to meet it.” Everything she’d told him was true, but she didn’t know what she would do when the deadline was over.

  He let out a breath. “I guess that answers my next question.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m leaving tomorrow morning for California for a week. I wanted you to come. I need to meet with Senator Ulrich. She’s invited me to come for meetings to discuss how we can get our energy project underway.”

  “That’s fine,” she said a bit too quickly.

  He gave her a sharp look.

  “I mean, if you have business, you have business.” She gave him a fake smile of her own.

  He narrowed his eyes. “I hope you’re not thinking there’s anything between me and Senator Ulrich. I told you, it’s entirely professional.” Dramatically, he put his hand across the table on hers. “After all, you’re the one I asked to marry me.”

  She gave him a tight smile, partly because she wasn’t concerned about Senator Ulrich and partly because it did feel like Herbert was attracted to her.

  “So let’s talk marriage dates.”

  Madison’s irritation flared up. She had to figure out what to do about her situation, and quick. Being married to Herbert would be like being locked away in that boarding school. She needed to figure out an escape plan. If she’d learned anything from her parents, it was how to play politics. She plastered on an innocent smile, but she wanted to yell at him for not listening. “Not tonight.”

  He winced and tugged back his hand. “Maybe you’ll be willing to talk about marriage dates when I get back.”

  She nodded.

  A crowd of people walking past their table, and through the ruckus, she saw Damon. A tall blonde woman held onto his shoulder, and a brunette was holding onto his friend, the Russian guy from the fundraiser. They were on the other side of the restaurant and Herbert hadn’t seemed to notice, suddenly taking an interest in his phone again.

  She froze, but she didn’t think Damon had seen her through the large plant between them.

  “Madison, what is wrong?”

  She jumped, putting her hand to her chest. “Oh.”

  “What is the matter with you?” Herbert looked ticked off, staring around the restaurant. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Nothing.” She picked up her glass of water, taking a sip. “It’s fine.”

  Luckily, Herber
t’s phone rang. He looked at the number and shook his head, standing. “I’m sorry, I have to take this. It’s an important issue.”

  Relieved, she waved him away and put on a smile. “No problem.”

  Once Herbert had gone, Madison sucked in a breath and tried to calm down. She told herself not to look, to eat, but she couldn’t resist. If she turned her head a certain way, she had a view of Damon, but she didn’t think he could see her. Damon really didn’t like the girl draped all over him. He lifted her hand from his leg and put it on the table, pointedly focusing on the menu.

  Was it stupid that Madison was happy that he didn’t like the girl?

  Memories rushed through her brain. When he’d sent her the letter that had broken her heart, she’d gone crazy. The words on the page popped into her mind: “Madison, it wasn’t real. I never loved you.” What did he think he could explain that would make up for that?

  Fuming to herself, Madison leaned back and watched him. Even though his hair was cut shorter to look more respectable, the man looked like a model. Gorgeous. She thought of how it felt to kiss him the other night: her hands on his solid chest, the sharp angle of his jaw when she’d run her fingers over it …

  She cursed under her breath, wishing she could calm her racing heart. “Breathe,” she commanded herself.

  The blonde leaned into Damon before throwing back her head and laughing. Damon didn’t move.

  Madison scowled. Dang it. Was she seriously jealous? This was stupid. For a few minutes, she focused on her food, unsure if she was nauseous or not. She pulled up Facebook on her phone and looked at the messages he’d shared with her. Her hand trembled, and she thought of how it’d felt to sit on his motorcycle and wait for him. She pushed reply.

  Do you remember our first kiss?

  Her finger hovered over the send button, and she debated whether she should send it or not. Herbert hadn’t returned yet; he was standing by the front area where people walked in.

  Damon talked animatedly to his whole group. Would he take that woman back to his place? Was she his girlfriend? She’d purposefully not Googled him. She couldn’t get tangled up with the man, not in her current predicament—even if he did have a good reason to write those hurtful words to her.

  Did he?

  Her mind flooded with reasons he would have done that. Her finger hovered over the button. She thought of the way she’d felt in the library, lost in that kiss. Quickly, she pressed send, then instantly regretted it and wanted to take it back. Careful not to get caught, she covertly watched him through the plant.

  She saw him pull out his phone. She saw the way his lips turned up into a smile.

  Butterflies erupted into her gut. She looked at her phone and waited, glancing between her phone and him.

  He hesitated, then put his phone down on the table.

  She looked at her phone. Nothing. He might as well have slapped her in the face. She thought of slapping him the other night. He’d deserved it.

  Maybe she had kissed him back, but he shouldn’t have kissed her at all. She picked up her fork, half-heartedly attempting to eat again. Unable to stop herself, she looked through the plant again and saw he was typing.

  Her heart leapt.

  Then she saw his reply.

  I was blown away the way you kissed me that day. And terrified, too. You always terrified me, Mads. Still do.

  That skittish first-love feeling flooded her, unleashing memories that she had stowed away in a locked trunk in her mind. Now, she slowly pulled them out and looked at them, remembering.

  I don’t know how many times I snuck out that summer.

  Having sent that message, she turned and looked at him.

  He smiled down at the phone, typing. The girl with him tried to jerk on his arm, but he shook his head in dismissal.

  Madison’s heart kicked up a notch, and guilt pricked her. She wasn’t lost on the fact that she shouldn’t be messaging him.

  The little red dot showed up.

  The best summer of my life.

  Another shot of happiness filled her heart. She sucked in a breath and watched through the plant as the food was delivered to Damon’s table. She held the phone, thinking about something else that was funny.

  When Engrid found out, she thought I was crazy, hiding it from Daddy.

  She saw him eating, not checking his phone. It was irritating, but it also gave her a chance to torture him back. Yes, she would send a couple of memories.

  Frankie said he would fire you like a thousand times after he caught us kissing behind the tennis courts.

  I seriously thought I would kill myself shimmying down that ancient drainpipe of my parents’ beach house.

  Remember that night, pancakes at your mom’s place? I’m sorry about your loss.

  She hadn’t thought of his mom for a long time, but she was the kindest woman. That was something of a miracle, looking back. His mom had been beaten down by life; she’d had an abusive husband, then worked so hard, and finally died. Damon had been through so much.

  “Hey.”

  She jumped. Herbert. “Hey,” she said back.

  He frowned. “Are you okay?”

  She stood, bumping into him. “No. I mean, yes, let’s go.” Her hand waved in a circle toward the door.

  “Sorry about the call. It took longer than I thought.” He picked up the ticket on the table.

  “It’s fine. I’ll head to the bathroom first.” She was out of whack, and she had to pee really badly.

  “Okay, I’ll wait here and pay the check.” Herbert sat back down.

  She moved through the restaurant, going the long way around to the bathroom so she could avoid the route that would take her by Damon’s table. As she rushed down the hallway toward the bathroom, a hand on her bicep clamped onto her bicep, making her jump.

  “Shh.” Damon pulled her in. “Just me, Mads. This way.”

  “Damon,” she whispered. Despite herself, she walked with him.

  Even as they moved, his eyes kept wandering back to her lips. “You didn’t think I saw you here with your fiancé?” He spoke to her with that familiar touch of danger.

  Madison swallowed. “I …”

  Damon moved down a hallway that led to another door. He tried the knob, and when it opened, he let her right into a janitor’s closet. “It doesn’t matter.” He flipped the light on, pulling the door shut, and turned to face her.

  “Damon, I can’t, you can’t—”

  Before she could ask anything, he pushed her against the wall and put his hands on either side of her. “Why were you messaging me when you saw I had company?”

  “You can’t do this.” She tried to shove his chest, even as her own heart raced.

  “Nope. Answer the question. Why were you messaging me?”

  The man was made of pure muscle—she could see his biceps flexing in his arms. His spicy cologne wafted over her again, and she tried to resist getting sucked in. “Damon, please.”

  His lips pressed into a line. “You started it tonight.”

  The way he said it, like she owed him something, made her hackles rise. “You were always cocky.”

  He laughed, gently brushing the hair out of her face. “That all you got, Mads? What were you saying about that first kiss?” He leaned in, and their breath mingled.

  “I …” She felt lost in this man, unable to believe they were here, together, after all these years.

  “You kissed me that first time,” he said softly, his eyes on her lips.

  “You kissed me the other night,” she flung back at him.

  He hesitated. “It’s your choice now, Mads. I won’t move an inch if you don’t want me to.”

  “I shouldn’t,” she whispered, but he was like a drug to her.

  “Of course you should.” He cupped her head, running his fingers through her hair. “I told you, you’ve been in my dreams for ten years.”

  Her resolve wavered. He was close enough to kiss her. “Damon.”

  “I
need you, Mads. I never stopped needing you.”

  Her mind was whirling with confusion and unanswered questions, yet one fact stood above all others: she’d never stopped needing him, too. Even though she had a million reasons not to, she pressed her lips to his, looping her arm around his neck. He slipped one arm around her waist and grasped the back of her hair with his other hand.

  Fierce explosions went off inside of her. She moaned and pressed flush against him as he deepened the kiss. The feeling of floating, flying, soaring free hit her with such bluntness that it took her breath away. She gripped him tighter, knowing she would fall if she didn’t hold on.

  Madison realized what she was doing. Frantically, she pushed against his chest, ripping her mouth away. “Damon, I can’t.”

  He still had his hand on her waist, and his deep blue eyes, the eyes that had always seen into her soul, stared back at her. He sucked in a breath. “A little late for that, Mads.” He winced, then straightened. “But you’re right. I don’t like the idea of kissing another man’s fiancée.”

  Horrified that she’d just kissed the man in a janitor’s closet, she shoved past him, grasping at the door handle. If Herbert caught them … She remembered one particular night when she’d seen one of his security guys beating the crap out of a man in the alley after they’d had a “business” meeting that hadn’t worked out. “I have to go.”

  He grabbed her hand. “Wait.”

  She faced him, still attracted, confused, and guilty.

  He scowled. “You kiss me like that, then run back to your fiancé? Was that your plan tonight?” His eyes swept her from top to bottom. He cursed and yanked his hand back. “Why, Mads? Why are you doing this to that guy? I know he’s a complete jerk, but you gotta cut him loose.”

  “I …” She hesitated, trying to swallow her tears. “… can’t.”

  “I know you feel the same thing between us.” He slammed his other hand against the wall. “The feelings are growing, and you feel it, too. Don’t you?”

  Her hand trembled. A tear fell down her cheek. Being with Damon was so different from the creepy feelings she had whenever she was with Herbert. “Damon, Herbert is dangerous. Just stay away.”

 

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