Her First Love Billionaire

by Taylor Hart

  Damon scowled, and then his face softened with regret. “Don’t cry, Mads. I don’t care if he’s dangerous.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember? We can face anything. Together.”

  She remembered their last night together, when they’d gone to jail. With just one more tug of the string Damon Duke held, she would unravel, and she was in a janitor’s closet! “No, it’s not like that. You sent that letter. Blame yourself.” She opened the door and rushed down the hallway.

  Chapter 14

  Damon, Present Day

  Later that evening, Damon stood in front of his computer in his office and stared at Facebook. He’d gone for a five-mile run, but he still felt antsy.

  When Madison had spoken about Herbert, she’d looked afraid. He didn’t like that at all. He frowned and wondered what that man had over her. After leaving Ivan at the restaurant with the women by himself, he’d covertly followed Madison and Herbert out of the restaurant at a safe distance, then followed them to what he thought must be her downtown apartment. He watched them get out of the car and go inside.

  His body still buzzed after that kiss. Fate had stepped in and brought him back to his first love, a love he’d never forgotten. How had they both ended up in Houston right now? How had they ended up at the same restaurant tonight?

  After he’d gotten out of the military, with his mother having passed, he hadn’t had a home—except for Houston, the future home he and Madi had daydreamed about. He sat at the computer, determined to never lose her again. Even if it meant he had to sift through all this crap with Herbert, the governor. In his mind, he said it in an English accent.

  He scoffed, pulled up their messages, and sent a new one.

  Do you remember the night we went to jail?

  He saw she was active. He waited. Would she respond? Was she breaking up with the governor?

  Yes.

  His heart thumped and he wanted to fist-bump someone. She was there. She was still talking to him.

  Pulling in a breath, he told himself to do this slowly. Clearly, she was still angry about that letter, and she deserved to be, but he had to explain to her. He’d been angry for so long, too. Eventually, he’d accepted that it had all been his fault, and he needed time with her so he could explain it all.

  I don’t feel bad about kissing you tonight. I’m sorry, but I don’t. Even if you have a fiancé. I don’t care.

  He wasn’t proud of it, but he knew she still loved him, deep down.

  I shouldn’t be communicating with you.

  It’s just me, Mads.

  I’m engaged.

  Damon grumbled; this was her way of telling him she hadn’t broken it off. He didn’t respond for a long time, staring out the window at the setting sun and wondering what to do. Finally, he told her the truth.

  I’ve missed you.

  For a long while, there was no response. He was actually holding his breath.

  You don’t understand. I can’t do this, Damon.

  He stared at the computer. He had to convince her that ten years ago was not over. It never had been. They had a choice to face, and that was that.

  Chapter 15

  Madison, Present Day

  It was Saturday morning and Madison was staring at the screen, trying to soak in the information she needed to fill out for this grant. The grant would be a huge boon to the hospital and to the cardiac children’s wing. The trouble with grants was they wanted a lot of documentation and bureaucratic paperwork. She hated them. She was good at them, but they weren’t fun.

  Standing, she stretched her legs. She’d been working all morning. Herbert had left that morning, heading for California to work with the senator. It actually relieved Madison a lot. This way, she could have some distance and think about what to do. Maybe she would just up and leave while he was gone.

  Where would she go? And what would she do about her mother? Her body had taken the transplant, but she still needed lots of medical checkups. As guilty as Madison felt about it, part of her resented her mother for putting her in this situation. Her mother was out for the day, having lunch and shopping with Herbert’s mother. She was okay for now, but Madison couldn’t leave her.

  Last night, Herbert had insisted on seeing Madison to bed. She’d pretended to be very sick so he wouldn’t think about trying to stay. He had pressed for a wedding date, and she’d still refused.

  She’d fallen into a fitful sleep, thinking of when she was seventeen again and running from the police, with Damon’s hand in hers. Their laughter had echoed in her dreams, and when she’d woken, her heart had been heavy as she’d remembered her current predicament. She’d been unable to go back to sleep, so she’d sat up in bed, dizzy and a bit nauseous.

  She’d gone to the kitchen to grab a cracker and nibbled it until she’d found her way back to bed, but she’d only stared at the ceiling and felt the familiar worry about what to do. Finally, she’d gotten up and thrown her energy into the grant.

  Madison decided it was time to take a run. Running had been a part of her normal life, and she knew from the internet that she could continue her same exercise level. As she changed into her clothes, she knew she needed to go to a doctor and get checked out; she just felt paralyzed on what else to do. She would have this baby, but beyond that … Tears snuck up, but she squelched them. She couldn’t have Herbert find out.

  She picked up her phone, noting there were three red messages on Facebook for her. Of course it was Damon. Who else would it be? No one else communicated through Facebook with her.

  Resisting the urge to respond, she turned on her music and put her earbuds in her ears. “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” blasted her worries to the background and made her feel lighter. She rushed down the stairs, ready to push her body to the limits. It always helped to keep her stress down when she exercised.

  The problem was that just as she walked out, she spotted Damon. He was standing next to a blue Mustang. When he saw her, he moved toward her apartment.

  She yanked out her earbuds in disbelief, already feeling the strained attraction between them. “What are you doing here?” She looked around, worried that one of her neighbors would see him and tell her mom. Her mother was the busiest busybody.

  Damon looked far too innocent. “Oh, you live here? I was going to meet a friend. He lives in your apartment complex.”

  “Liar.” She knew he was here for her. “How did you find my address?”

  Damon crossed his arms. “Really, Mads? I’m not a crazy stalker. Look, I have to get going.”

  She watched in disbelief as he disappeared inside. He had come to her building today because he was meeting someone else?

  Angst and irritation plagued her as she started into a run. Fifteen minutes later, she couldn’t even enjoy the Red Hot Chili Peppers song “Give It Away Now.” She slowed to a walk and then relented and checked her Facebook messages.

  You know I’m at your apartment, don’t you?

  She couldn’t help but laugh, even as anger, annoyance, and excitement warred within her.

  There were more messages.

  I want to talk to you.

  Mads.

  Mads.

  Turning back, she started into a jog. It was time to really talk—and she wasn’t going to kiss him again.

  Chapter 16

  Damon, Present Day

  Damon sat on the steps next to Madison’s door, waiting. He stood as soon as he saw her heading up the stairs.

  When she got to the top, she glared at him. “I knew you weren’t here to see a neighbor.”

  Instinctively, he wanted to grab her and kiss her again. Ever since he’d seen her at the fundraiser, she had gotten under his skin, and it took everything inside of him to resist her.

  She wagged a finger at him. “And don’t kiss me or I swear I’ll …”

  He surrendered, putting up his hands. “You have a fiancé still, so … I won’t kiss you.” Even though he wanted to, he played it cool. “I just need to talk to you.”<
br />
  “Why didn’t you just tell me you were coming to find me?”

  He shrugged, feeling like the seventeen-year-old boy who’d gotten tongue-tied when he’d first met her. Finally, he gave in to the truth. “I’m sorry, I just … When you acted like you were going to get in trouble for seeing me, looking around like we were teenagers trying to sneak around—” He pointed at her. “—not in a fun way, but in an angry way—I decided you didn’t seem like you were in the mood.”

  “Damon, I can’t do this.”

  He shook his head. “No more games, Mads. I’m here to talk. About everything. We have things to clear up between us.”

  Still looking uncertain, she moved past him to unlock her apartment. “You can’t stay long. I have work to do. I’m in the middle of a huge grant right now for the hospital. And …” She looked behind her.

  “And your fiancé is coming over?” He walked into her eclectic apartment. He didn’t want to see Herbert, but maybe it would be a good thing to clear the air.

  “No,” she said quickly. “He’s not.”

  Damon frowned. “Does he scare you?”

  Tears appeared in her eyes, but she turned away from him. “Herbert is not coming over.”

  He felt himself relax a bit and focused on her apartment. The furniture was mismatched and a million books cluttered multiple bookshelves, creating a shabby chic look. The place smelled like pumpkin spice, and that somehow fit her, too. “Oh, where is good old Herbert?”

  Her eyes flashed to his, and he thought he saw panic before she said, “He’s gone for the week to California.”

  Damon detected something off in her tone. “Oh.” The guy was gone for a week? He squelched down on the thoughts that he could have unfettered access to her without the fiancé around. He had a week. He played it cool, looking around. “I like the place. It fits you.”

  She blushed. “I always told you I didn’t belong in castles or museums. I like homey.”

  He nodded, jealousy taking over when he thought of her living with Herbert. “That’s one thing I always liked about you: even though you had all the money in the world, you were never showy about it.”

  Madison paused. “Right.” She moved into the kitchen, laughing a little. “Not showy at all. Yep, I choose to live like this when I could have anything.”

  Confused, he followed her into the kitchen.

  She pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. “Would you like one?”

  Something was off with her. He nodded and took the water. “Yes, thank you.”

  “No problem.” She grabbed another for herself.

  While they drank, Damon looked around her kitchen and dining area. It had the same shabby chic unmatched furniture thing going on. “Do you and the governor have a place picked out?” Casually, he moved back into her living room and pulled a book off the bookcase, pretending not to be interested in her answer. “Or are you going to move into the mansion?”

  “Damon.” Her tone told him she knew he was jealous.

  “I just mean, the governor’s kinda flashy—museum-ish, if you ask me. Do you think you’ll really be comfortable there?”

  She let out a long breath. “Say what you want to say, Damon.”

  Nervousness hit him in the gut. After his experience in facing the enemy, he shouldn’t get nervous anymore. He didn’t. Except with her.

  She pointed to one of the couches. “Sit, please.” She moved past him and sat too. Every time he started thinking she might be the same, he found another way that she’d changed. “You’re bossier.”

  Her lips quirked in a smile. “Talk.”

  Ten years. He was dreaming. He swallowed and thought about boot camp, thought about what had driven them apart. “I need to apologize. When I sent that letter, I lied. I never stopped loving you.”

  She looked down at her hands, which were shaking. “I can’t do this, Damon. It’s been too long and things have changed and—”

  He stood. “Things have not changed, Mads.” Her sadness broke his heart. He knew it was time to tell her the truth, time to expose all of it. But should he discredit a man who was dead? Should he ruin that relationship now? There had to be another way to explain without making her hate her own father.

  She stood too, crossing her arms. A tear ran down her cheek. “Are you kidding me? Ten years and you come here with some lame apology? You come here,” she shouted, closing the gap between him, “acting like what you did can be forgiven?”

  Her eyes were angry slits, and he wondered if she would slap him again. Meeting her gaze, he didn’t react when she pushed him in the chest.

  “Tell me the truth, Damon!” Her eyes were ablaze with raging storms. “I deserve the truth!”

  He knew he had to explain, even if the truth would hurt her ever more. The words were dangerous, though. He wouldn’t be able to take them back.

  With her full force, she pushed him. “Get out, Damon! I can’t do this! I don’t want to do this!” She pointed to the door.

  He faltered, surprised at how strong she could be.

  “Go!” she yelled, looking half-crazed.

  But he didn’t move. “Your father,” he said quietly.

  Her expression flashed from anger to shock to resignation. Her lips pressed into a line.

  His palms were sweaty and his heart was pounding. “When my mother got sick, we’d been told by the doctors it was too late, the cancer was too advanced, but I always thought—” His voice broke as he thought about his mother’s light, paper-thin hand as she slipped away from him. Tears sprang to his eyes, and he gathered his courage. “Your dad showed up out of the blue. He told me he’d been keeping tabs on me, on my mother’s situation, and he knew a place in Mexico that did an alternative treatment.”

  “Tell me,” she whispered, moving beside him.

  Damon swallowed. “He offered me a hundred thousand dollars. For our trip to Mexico and to cover the treatment. The catch was, I had to sign an agreement that I would never contact you. That I would I wouldn’t try to find you.”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t sign it at first. I couldn’t. I told him to go to hell.” He dropped his head into his hands, rubbing his face as though he could scrub away the memory. “But the sicker Mom got, the more pain she was in. Your father’s business card showed up in the mail. I was desperate.” He faced her again, touching her shoulders. “Mads, the only reason I agreed to take the stupid money was because I had to try to save my mom.”

  One of her hands lifted to cover his. “I know.”

  He steeled himself, fighting the desire to fall apart, and opted instead to hold her close to him. “I never should have agreed to your father’s terms. Especially the part about telling you I didn’t love you anymore.”

  “What?” She pulled back, blinking. “That was in the contract?”

  Damon groaned. “Yes. That and a whole bunch of other things I wasn’t allowed to do, including find you, connect with you on social media, and tell you—in any way, shape, or form—that I loved you.”

  She gave him a blank look.

  “I didn’t know that your father couldn’t put that in a contract.” He ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t until later that I learned your father’s contact was bogus.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t believe him.”

  “I should have found another way. I know that I messed up. I should have found someone else who could help. I should have reached out to government organizations.”

  “You were eighteen.” Her voice was hollow. “You couldn’t have known how to do that.”

  Her words gave Damon hope that they could move past this; she seemed to understand. “Madi, I’m so sorry.”

  She moved away from him to stare out the window, placing her hands on the windowsill and taking deep breaths. “And when you got out of the military?”

  “I told you, I saw you with Troy in all of those pictures.” A familiar cocktail of adrenaline and jealousy shot through his vei
ns. “I thought you just finally got with him, and your family and everyone would be happy.”

  She scoffed and pulled her hair back from her face. “I messed everything up.”

  Irritation flared through him. “No, I messed it up.”

  “I’ve messed things up so badly.” She put her hand on her stomach, looking sick.

  Damon couldn’t stop himself. He crossed the distance between them, pulling her in. “I’m so sorry, Mads.” He kissed her forehead and felt her shaking and crying. “It’s not too late. I’m here. You’re here. Mads, I want you to know I don’t care about Herbert. I don’t care about the past. All I care about is you and me right now.”

  Her face crumbled and she buried it in her hands.

  He held her for a while, loving the way she pushed her head against his chest. When he breathed in, she smelled like vanilla. “I know you’re engaged, but I know you don’t love him. You wouldn’t be standing here, reliving our past, if you loved him. What does he have over you?”

  She tugged away from him. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because you told me he’s dangerous.”

  “I …” She held her stomach, her skin pale.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  She swore. “I messed it all up.” She looked unguarded, vulnerable. So young, like the girl from ten years ago. “Damon, I do still love you, but … you don’t understand.”

  “What does Herbert have over you?”

  She looked down at her hands.

  He was on to something. “What is going on, Mads?”

  She threw her hands up. “The money’s gone.”

  “What?”

  “My mom—she lives with me, and she’s had liver disease.”

  “Yes, I know she had a transplant a couple months ago.”

  She sighed. “When Daddy died, we discovered all the money was gone on bad investments. Even after everything was sold, it barely paid the debts.”