An Unlikely Bride for the Billionaire (10 page)

In the next instant he almost gave her a heart attack.

‘Stop!' he screeched.

She slammed on the brakes, and even though they weren't going fast gravel still kicked up around them from the unsealed road. Before she could ask Felipe what was wrong, he was out of the car and moving with remarkable agility through the neighbouring strip of bush.

She glanced at Dylan in wordless enquiry.

He shook his head. ‘I have no idea. But I suspect we should follow him.'

‘This!' Felipe declared when they reached him.

Mia stared. ‘It's a fallen tree.'

He seized her by the shoulders and propelled her to the tree, ordered her to straddle it. Next he forced Dylan to straddle it as well, facing her. Mia straightened and folded her arms, frowning at the photographer.

‘Why do you frown at me?' He glared at Dylan. ‘Why does she frown at me? Make her stop.'

‘Uh... Mia...?'

‘I can see that
you
—' she pointed a finger at Felipe ‘—will have no regard for Carla's dress.'

‘
Pah!
This is art. If Carla wants art then she will need to make sacrifices. Now, do as I say and lean in towards each other.'

Whipping out his camera, he motioned with his hands for them to move closer together.

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. ‘As if you're about to kiss. Mia, darling, I know you don't have a romantic bone in your delightful body, but you have a pulse, and you have to admit that your fellow model is very pretty. I need to capture the light and the landscape. Art is
work
.'

She glanced at Dylan to see if he'd taken Felipe's ‘pretty' remark as a slight on his masculinity. She found him grinning.

He winked at her. ‘You heard what the man said.' And then he puckered up in such an exaggerated way that any threat inherent in the situation was immediately removed. She puckered up too.

With the odd, ‘Tsk!' as if in disapproval of their antics, Felipe set about taking photographs.

The flash made Mia wince.

‘Headache?' Dylan asked.

‘I just don't like having my photo taken.' The last time a flash had gone off in her face had been when she'd been led from the courthouse...in handcuffs. It wasn't a memory she relished.

As if he could sense her ambivalence, Dylan leapt to his feet.

‘Darling!' Felipe spluttered. ‘I—'

‘You'll have to make do with just me as a model, Master Fellini. Run!' he muttered out of the corner of his mouth to Mia.

So she did. She shot to her feet and all but sprinted away, to stand behind and to one side of Felipe, in amongst the bracken fern.

She watched the two men's antics with growing enjoyment. Felipe barked out orders and Dylan promptly, if somewhat exaggeratedly, carried them out. He flirted with the camera without a scrap of self-consciousness. Felipe, in turn, flirted outrageously back.

Double entendres
flew through the air until Mia found herself doubled up with laughter. It was just so much
fun
watching Dylan!

Without warning, Felipe turned and snapped a shot of her.

She blinked, sobering in an instant.

Dylan was immediately puffed up, all protective.

Felipe beamed as he stared down at his camera. ‘Perfect!'

CHAPTER SIX

M
IA
SWALLOWED
.
‘
W
HAT
do you mean,
perfect
?'

He gestured her over. ‘Come and see.'

She didn't want to see. She wanted to run away to hack and slash hiking trails, to fill in potholes and be away from people with their unspoken questions and flashing cameras.

Dylan's not like that
.

Dylan was the worst of the lot!

She forced reluctant feet over to where Felipe stood with his camera held out to her. Dylan moved across too, and she sensed the tension in his shoulders, in the set of his spine.

‘You said you just wanted to test the light—to get a sense of scale and a feel for the locations, figure out how to make them work for you.'

‘Darling, I'm an
artiste
. My mind, my eyes, my brain...they're always searching for the perfect shot.'

She went to take the camera from him, but he shook his head.

‘Just look.'

She leaned in to look at the display on the screen. Her gut clenched up tight at what she saw.

Dylan leaned over her right shoulder. ‘Holy cow...'

In the photograph, Mia stood knee-high in bracken fern, bent at the waist with her head thrown back, her mouth wide with laughter and her eyes crinkled and dancing. The entire picture rippled with laughter. She didn't know how Felipe had managed it, but when she stared at the photo she could feel delight wrap around her and lift her up.

He'd made her look beautiful.

She swallowed and straightened, bumping into Dylan. She moved away with a murmured apology.

‘You see what I mean?' Felipe demanded. ‘The picture is perfect.'

Her temples started to throb. ‘It's a lie.'

‘Art doesn't lie, darling.'

She was aware of how closely Dylan watched her, of how darkly his eyes throbbed as they moved between the image of her on the camera and the flesh and blood her. She found him just as disturbing as Felipe's photograph.

‘Will you sign a release form, darling, allowing me to use that photograph in my next exhibition? This is
precisely
what I need.'

Her mouth dried. She had a plan. That plan was to remain in the background.
This
wasn't remaining in the background.

Her hands curled into fists. ‘No.'

Felipe switched the cameral off with a sniff. ‘That photograph could be the centrepiece of my next exhibition. And, darling, I don't actually
need
your permission. I was only being polite. This is a public place. As such, I'm free to take photographs of anything I please.'

Instinct told her that pleading with him would do no good. Her stomach started to churn.

‘How much would a photograph like that sell for?'

She'd been aware of Dylan growing taller and sterner beside her. She glanced up and realised he'd transformed into full warrior mode. A pulse started up in her throat, and a vicarious thrill took hold of her veins even as she bit back a groan.

Felipe waved him away. ‘It's impossible to put a price on a photograph like that. I have no intention of selling it.'

‘Sell it to me
now
.'

Dylan named a sum that had her stomach lurching.

‘No!' She swung round to him and shook her head. ‘Don't even think about it. That's a ludicrous amount of money for a stupid photograph.'

He planted his hands on his hips. ‘It's obvious you don't want it shown in a public exhibition. Let me buy it.'

She folded her arms to hide how much her hands shook. ‘I don't want it hanging on your wall either.'

Why would he pay such a huge sum for a photograph of her anyway?

Because he cares?

She pushed that thought away. She didn't want him to care. She hadn't asked him to care!

As if he'd read that thought in her face, Dylan thrust out his jaw, his eyes glittering. ‘Felipe, sell me the photo.'

She stabbed a finger at the photographer. ‘You'll do nothing of the sort.'

Felipe turned to Dylan, hands raised. ‘You heard what the lady said, darling.'

Dylan glowered—first at her and then at the photographer. ‘Okay, let me make myself crystal-clear. If that photograph is ever displayed publicly I'll bring the biggest lawsuit you've ever seen crashing down on your head.'

Felipe merely smiled. ‘The publicity will be delicious!'

Mia grabbed Dylan's arm and shook it, but her agitation barely seemed to register. It was as useless as rattling iron bars.

‘You will do absolutely nothing of the sort!' she said.

His brows drew down low over his eyes, his entire mien darkening. ‘Why not?'

‘Because you don't own me. You don't get to make decisions for me.' She swung to Felipe. ‘
You
don't own me either. In a just world you wouldn't get to make such a decision either.'

Nobody said anything for a moment.

‘Mia, darling...'

She didn't want to hear Felipe's excuses and justifications. She turned towards the car. ‘I thought art was supposed to make the world a better place, not a worse one. I think it's time we headed back.'

‘Darling!'

She turned to find Felipe removing the memory card from the camera. He took her hand and closed her fingers over it. ‘It's yours. I'm sorry.'

Relief almost made her stagger. ‘Thank you,' she whispered, slipping it into her top pocket and fastening the button. She tried to lighten the mood. ‘I expect for an
artiste
like yourself great photos are a dime a dozen.'

‘No, darling, they're not,' he said, climbing into the car.

All the while she was aware of the brooding way Dylan watched her, of the stiff movements of his body, betraying...
anger
? It made her heart drum hard against her ribs.

‘That photograph is truly unique, but I could not exhibit it without your blessing. I do not wish anyone to feel diminished by my art.'

She nodded. Felipe was a good man. So was Dylan. She was surrounded by people she didn't deserve.

‘But if you should have a change of heart...ever change your mind...' He slipped a business card into her hand.

She nodded. ‘You'll be the first to know.'

She didn't add that a change of heart was highly unlikely. She had a feeling he already knew that.

She glanced in the rear-vision mirror to find Dylan staring at her, his gaze dark and brooding. She had no idea what he was thinking...or what he must think of
her
. Her pulse sped up again. Did he hate her after what she'd said?

She didn't want him to hate her.

She had a feeling, though, that it would be better for both of them if he did.

* * *

Dylan showed up at her cottage that night.

Without a word she ushered him in, wondering at her own lack of surprise at seeing him.

‘I wanted to discuss what happened this afternoon,' he said without preamble.

‘I don't see that there's much to discuss.' She turned towards the kitchen. ‘Can I get you something to drink—tea or coffee? I have some light beer if you'd rather.'

‘No, thank you.'

Good.
They could keep this quick, then. She grabbed some water for herself and motioned him to the sofa, taking a seat at the table.

Dylan didn't sit. He stood in the middle of the room, arms folded, and glared at her.

She heaved a sigh. ‘I'm sorry, Dylan, but I'm not a mind-reader. What exactly did you want to discuss?'

‘I didn't appreciate your implication this afternoon that I was trying to own you. I simply felt responsible for putting you in a situation that had obviously made you uncomfortable. I set about fixing the situation. I don't see how that can be seen as trying to control you.'

She stared into her glass of water. ‘I appreciate your intentions were good, but it doesn't change the fact that you didn't ask me my opinion first.'

‘There wasn't time!' He flung an arm out. ‘Where people like Felipe are concerned it's best to come at them hard and fast.'

‘And what if I told you that your solutions were more horrifying to me than the initial problem?'

‘Were they?'

‘Yes.'

He widened his stance. ‘Why?'

She stood then too, pressing her hands to her stomach. ‘Ever since I got out of jail I've had one objective—to keep a low profile, to keep out of trouble. A lawsuit would create a hundred times more furore than an anonymous photograph in some exhibition.'

He straightened, his height almost intimidating. Not that it frightened her. She sensed that frightening her was the last thing he wanted.

‘Are you concerned that someone from your past will track you down?'

‘No.' And she wasn't. That was all done with.

His hands went to his hips. ‘Look, I understand your dismay at the thought of publicity, but what on earth was wrong with
me
buying the photograph?'

‘I'm already beholden enough to you!'

‘It's my money. I can do as I please with it.'

‘Not on my watch, you can't. Not when you're spending that money solely for my benefit.'

He stared at her with unflinching eyes. ‘You'd rather have let that picture go public then be beholden to me?'

She met his gaze. ‘Yes.'

He wheeled away from her. When he swung back his eyes were blazing.

Before he could rail at her about ingratitude and stubbornness, she fired a question back at him. ‘If Felipe had sold you that photograph, would you have given it to me?'

He stilled. His chin lowered several notches. ‘I'd have promised to keep it safe.'

They both knew it wasn't the same thing. She could feel her lips twist. ‘So, in the end, it was Felipe who did what I truly wanted after all.'

A tic started up in his jaw. ‘This is the thanks I get for trying to help you?'

She refused to wither under his glare. ‘You weren't trying to help me. What you're angry about is missing your chance to buy that picture.'

He moved in closer. ‘And that scares the pants off of you, doesn't it?'

Bullseye
.

She refused to let her fear show. ‘I've told you where I stand on relationships and romance. I don't know how I can make it any plainer, but offering such a ludicrous sum for a photo of me leads me to suspect that you haven't heard me.'

‘Some women would've found the gesture romantic.'

Exactly
.

‘Not me.'

He shoved his hands in his pockets and strode around the room. Mia did her absolute best not to notice the way the muscles of his shoulders rippled beneath the thin cotton of his business shirt, or how his powerful strides ate up the space in her tiny living room. He quivered like a big cat, agitated and undecided whether to pounce or not.

She knew exactly how to soothe him. If she went to him, put her arms around his neck and pressed her length against his, he'd gather her in his arms and they'd lose themselves to the pleasure they could bring each other.

The pulse at her throat pounded. She gripped her hands together. It wouldn't help. It might be possible to do ‘uncomplicated' when it came to a fling, but refused to risk it.

If only that knowledge could cool the stampede of her blood!

He swung around. ‘You might have your heart under lock and key, Mia, but you have no right to command mine.'

He wasn't promising her his heart
. Heat gathered behind her eyes. He wasn't promising anything more than a quick roll in the hay, and they both knew it.

‘You're forgetting the ground rules. We promised!'

‘Just because I wanted that photo it doesn't mean I want
you
.'

But they both knew he desired her in the most primitive way a man could want a woman. And they both knew she desired him back. They were balancing too narrowly on a knife-edge here, and she couldn't let them fall.

She clamped her hands to her elbows. Wrapped up in his attraction for her were feelings of pity, a desire to make things better, and perhaps a little anger. It was an explosive combination in a man like Dylan—a nurturer with the heart of a warrior. He knew as well as she did that they could never fit into each other's lives. But hard experience had taught her that the heart didn't always choose what was good for it.

He leaned in so close his breath fanned her cheek. ‘Did you destroy the photo?'

She wanted to say that she had.

No lying. No stealing
.

She pulled in a ragged breath. ‘No.'

‘You
will
give it to me, you know.'

She shook her head. ‘I have no need of your money.'

He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek, making her shiver. ‘I didn't say anything about buying it from you, Mia. I meant that eventually you'll give it to me as a gift.'

She wanted to tell him to go to hell, but his hand snaked behind her head and he pulled her mouth close to his own and the words dried in her throat.

Dear Lord, he was going to kiss her!

‘The girl in that photograph is the woman you're meant to be. I know it and you know it.'

He was wrong! She didn't deserve to be that girl. She deserved nothing more than the chance to live her life in peace.

His breath fanned across her lips, addling her brain. She should step away, but she remained, quivering beneath his touch, hardly knowing what she wished for.

He pressed a kiss to the corner of her mouth. Her eyes fluttered closed as she turned towards him...

And then she found herself released.

‘You want me as much as I want you.'

Her heart thudded in her ears. She had to reach out and steady herself against a chair.