The Millionaire's Secret Wish (9 page)

“But this was important. I should have known this. You should have told me before—”

“—before I found you in my bed and made love to you. Regrets, Alisa?” he asked with a dare in his voice.

She remembered the promise she’d made. No regrets. But she was confused and she felt deceived. “I need to think about this,” she said, her chest tight and achy. “I need to figure out what this means. I need to—”

“—leave,” he finished for her, and his face could have been made of stone. “You need to leave.”

So she did.

D
ylan didn’t sleep that night. Or the next. He avoided his bedroom. Alisa’s ghost was in the room. Her scent was still there. When he opened the door, he heard her laughter and felt her presence.

He’d been so careful, refusing to depend on her, constantly reminding himself that she would leave. He’d made a big mistake. He’d thought he’d protected himself, but somehow, some way, the worm of hope had burrowed inside him. Dylan had learned a long time ago that hope could be a killer. His mother had hoped his father would reappear and take care of them. He himself had hoped the same thing until he’d learned his lesson.

Hope was one of the strangest human emotions. It
was damn frail, but nearly hard to kill once it was growing inside a person. It led people to hang on in impossible situations, some situations best dismissed.

Although he’d fought it, there must have been some small, foolish part of him that had hoped Alisa would see him differently and keep seeing him differently. She had made him feel like the sun had come out again. She had reminded him of a time when he’d felt safe with her. He’d never felt that way with another human being.

Now she was gone again.

His heart felt heavy in his chest. His house felt hollow. Tonto whined and he cursed under his breath. The dog seemed to sense his unease. With a sigh he walked into the Florida room, grabbed a leash and took Tonto outside. He felt drops of rain on his face and ignored his discomfort.

He had survived without Alisa’s love for eight years. He could do it again. He could go through the rest of his life without having her look at him as if he were the most important person in the world. His heart wouldn’t stop beating. He wouldn’t stop breathing. The world wouldn’t stop turning.

His life would be the same as before her accident, he told himself, and hated the knowledge. He wished he hadn’t made love to her. He wished he hadn’t laughed with her. God help him, he wished he’d never known what it was like to have the love of Alisa Jennings because he sure as hell would never have it again.

“For somebody who just won over the Remington board of directors, you look like you might as well be going to a funeral,” Justin said as the three members of the Millionaires’ Club toasted Dylan’s success at O’Malley’s bar. “You should be happy as a clam. The Millionaires’ Club is so committed to your bioengineering project that we won’t have the funds to fund anything else for a long time.”

“Maybe not,” Dylan said. “The beauty of my project is that it will eventually earn money.”

“I know how research works,” Justin said cheerfully. “I’ll be old and gray.”

Dylan disagreed. “Do you remember a geeky little guy named Horace Jenkins?”

Michael squinted his eyes. “The name’s familiar.”

“Horace, Horace,” Justin repeated, tapping his finger on the bar.

“He was a couple years younger than me. He didn’t stay at Granger very long. Too smart,” he said with a wry grin.

“What do you mean, too smart?” Michael asked.

“He was a genius. He scooted through high school in two years and got a scholarship to college, then got a triple doctorate in biology, physics and engineering. He’s been teaching and working on a few inventions in his garage in his spare time.”

“You dog,” Justin said with a grin. “How did you find him?”

“I got him out of a bad situation one time. A cou
ple of guys cornered him. I took a few punches for him and he never forgot it. He always kept in touch with me. Letters, then e-mails. He’s not the most socially adept guy in the world, but he’s brilliant. He’s going to do some awesome things. He’ll make Remington Pharmaceuticals a lot of money.”

“You got him on salary?” Michael asked.

“With a bonus based on speed. But he’s a scientist. He’s not motivated by money.”

“What does he want?”

“Freedom to research without having to publish or teach.”

“How long has he been working on his inventions?”

Dylan smiled. “Years.”

“Now that’s what I wanted to see,” Justin said. “The trademark, Barrow lady-killer smile.”

Dylan felt his good humor fade. He shrugged and lifted his beer to take a long drink. He felt Michael’s curious gaze.

“How’s Alisa?” he asked casually.

“Better. She’s just about back to normal.”

Michael and Justin exchanged a glance. “How normal?” Justin asked.

The roar of conversation and tinkling of glasses struck an odd counterpoint to the quiet, hollowness inside him. “She knows what happened. She’s moved back to her apartment.”

Dylan felt the weight of their gazes.

“Sorry,” Michael mumbled.

“Yeah,” Justin said in agreement.

Dylan shrugged. “I knew it would happen. It was just a matter of time.”

“How long since she left?” Justin asked.

“A few days.” It had felt like a year.

“What did she say when you called her?” Michael asked.

Dylan stopped midmovement as he lifted his mug. “I haven’t called her. She said she needed to think.”

Michael looked at him like he was crazy. “And you’re going to let her think by herself?”

“Well, yeah. If she’d wanted me around, she would have stayed.”

Michael and Justin glanced at each other again.

Irritated, Dylan swallowed the last of his beer. “What?”

Justin cleared his throat. “I know you’ve dated a lot of women, but you haven’t exactly been known for the duration of your male/female relationships.”

“And you have?” Dylan challenged.

“I’m married to the woman I love,” Justin said bluntly. “You’re not.”

Angry at the truth in his words, Dylan clenched his fingers into a fist and stuck his hand in his pocket. “So you’re an expert on women.”

Justin lifted his hand. “Not me, but I’ve learned a few things. One is you don’t leave a woman alone if she’s upset about you. It’s called hedging your bet.”

“He’s right,” Michael said. “Women have active imaginations. If I had backed off from Kate when we
first got married, she would have left me so fast my head would still be spinning. Kate says it’s one of those Mars/Venus things. Men need to go to their caves. Women need to talk.”

Dylan thought about their advice for a long moment, then shook his head. “You didn’t see the look on her face.”

Justin shrugged. “If you don’t mind living without her, then it’s no big deal.”

“That’s her decision,” Dylan said crossly.

“Partly,” Michael said. “Depends if you’re a quitter or not.”

Insulted, Dylan stiffened, almost rising to the bait. “What do you mean quitter?”

“I mean no matter what happened in the past between you and Alisa, she won’t forget that you were there for her when she needed you, unless you let her forget it.”

“I don’t want her gratitude,” Dylan said.

Justin rolled his eyes. “Where is this sudden attack of honor coming from? You can use gratitude to your advantage. Do you want the woman or not? Are you gonna roll over and let her get away again? You already did that. Did it make you happy?”

“No,” Dylan said.

“If you want Alisa, then you’re gonna have to use everything to your advantage. You’re not a twenty-year-old college kid anymore, and you need to make damn sure that she’s reminded of that on a regular basis. It’s my experience that one thing a woman
wants is a man who’s going to hold on to her no matter what. If you want this woman, you’re in for the fight of your life. Trust me, I’ve just been through my own battle.”

Michael nodded. “Same here,” he said. “It may sound hokey as hell, but I had to court my wife. Had to take her out on a date
after
we got married. After I did it, I found out it wasn’t such a bad idea. But this is all up to you, bro. You have to decide if you’re going to hold or fold.”

Alisa tried to examine her relationship with Dylan and pack it away in a nice, neat box, but every time she tried to categorize him as the man who had betrayed her, she couldn’t help remembering that he was also the man who brought her markers and art paper while she was in the hospital. He was heartless, she told herself, then remembered that he allowed his property to be used for horseback riding lessons for handicapped children.

He couldn’t be trusted, she told herself. Then why would her mind fly to his name if she ever had an emergency? She scowled as she cleaned out her bedroom closet on Wednesday night.

He didn’t appreciate the importance of love. Perhaps, her conscience conceded, but what kind of permanent love had he ever experienced?

He didn’t need anyone. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Closer to the truth. Dylan didn’t seem to need anyone. She wasn’t certain he was capable.
Straining to empty the corner of the top shelf, she came upon a small box and curiously pulled it down.

She wouldn’t be able to keep his attention. The insidious thought slithered through her mind like a hissing serpent. Her chest tightened, and she tasted the familiar, bitter flavor of fear. The truth again. She told herself it didn’t matter because she didn’t
want
to keep his attention.

Pushing the unwelcome thought and emotion aside, she sat down on the carpet and pulled the top off the shoe box. It was full of letters, photos and stubs to movies, concerts and dances. The edges of some of the letters were charred as if they’d been rescued from a fire.

Alisa felt a sinking sensation. This was the Dylan box. She’d noticed that in her other photo albums there’d been no pictures of him. She’d found that curious until now.

She recalled the moment she’d begun to burn the memory of Dylan Barrow from her life. In the middle of the night at her mother’s house, she’d crept downstairs to the den where the fireplace still burned. It had been weeks since her breakup with Dylan, but she still cried herself to sleep. She still was so angry she’d wanted to scream. To exorcise him from her mind and heart, she would burn the memories. She remembered tossing the precious mementos into the fire and watching them begin to burn.

Something inside her panicked. She wasn’t quite ready to let go. Using the fireplace shovel, she sal
vaged most of the photos and letters and mentally put Dylan in a box. He had been her childhood friend and her first lover, so it was natural that he have a place in her memories. Alisa looked at the box and the small empty space on the top shelf. A small place in her memories, she saw, and put the lid back on the box.

The doorbell rang, and she shoved the box back in place, still unwilling to destroy that part of her history. She would have to think another time about why she still kept that box.

Hurrying to the door, she looked through the peephole and blinked several times. Dylan stood outside with a purposeful expression on his face. Her heart jumped. It was as if Dylan had jumped out of her box. She slowly opened the door.

“Hi,” he said, when she didn’t move from the doorway. “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, moving out of the way. “What’s the occasion?”

“You’ve had time to think,” he said, and walked into her den and sat down on her easy chair as if he belonged there. “Now it’s time to talk.”

Alisa felt an odd mix of emotions. She had thought about him entirely too much over the past few days. She had mentally screamed at him, cursed him and cried at him. Now that she had her opportunity, she was at a loss. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to talk.”

“Why?” he asked, meeting her gaze so directly she almost looked away.

“Because of what happened between us,” she said.

“Which thing?” he asked. “My teaching you to catch ball, you sneaking me into see reruns of
The Lone Ranger,
us tramping through mud puddles, me staying with you at the hospital, us making love when we were college kids or us making love as adults. Which thing?”

Alisa swallowed over a lump in her throat. Awash in confusion, she looked away. “I think what happened between us in college.”

“That was one thing,” he said.

“Big thing,” she said, refusing to allow him to diminish it. “Big important thing.”

“Agreed,” he said. “You’ve had time to think about it. It’s time for us to talk again.”

Uncomfortable with his attitude, she frowned. “We didn’t talk after it happened eight years ago.”

“That was a mistake,” Dylan said. “I made more than one mistake when I was twenty years old. I’m not going to make the same ones now.”

Uneasy, she began to pace. “I don’t really understand what you want. What happened between us in college changed things.”

“Your accident changed things, too,” he said with a level gaze.

She found his calmness maddening. “Temporarily,” she said.

“Was it?”

Her chest grew tight. “Yes,” she insisted. “As
soon as I remembered what happened in college, everything changed.”

“Everything?” Dylan stood and walked toward her. “So you have reverted to preaccident Alisa. You feel nothing for me.”

His voice purred over her skin, bringing her nerve endings to life. He stood so close, she thought, struggling with a thousand feelings she didn’t want. “I can’t say that. Haven’t you heard the expression ‘been there, done that, got the T-shirt’? We’ve been there done that three times.”

“Then maybe we need to get it right this time,” he said.

Alisa felt her heart pause, then take off for the races. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Why?”

Heavens, he was making this difficult. “I’ll never be comfortable about you and your legions of feminine admirers.”

He lifted his lips in a sexy grin and dipped his head entirely too close to hers. “Take me off the market,” he taunted.

She took a quick shallow breath at his audacity. At another time she would have been sorely tempted to take him up on his seductive offer, but now she knew better. “I might be able to take you off the market, but I don’t think I have what it takes to keep you off the market. Someday, somehow I’ll be busy taking care of some other part of my life and you’ll feel
neglected. And just because you’re you, a woman will appear to console you.”

His humor faded. “Is that what you would expect from what you’ve come to know of me since the accident?”