The Millionaire's Wish (9 page)

“You weren't talking about yourself,” his grandmother said. “You were talking about a dream—something you want to build someday.”

She lifted the teapot carefully, one hand on the underside of the spout. Her eyes followed the flow of liquid as she refilled her cup. “I lost my daughter to cancer,” she said.

Rick stared at her. He couldn't remember his grandmother ever mentioning his mother's death to someone outside the family.

“I know,” Allison said softly. “Rick told me.”

Gran looked up, and he could tell she was just as surprised as he had been.

“He did?”

Allison nodded. “I lost my sister Megan. She was fourteen when she died.”

“Megan,” his grandmother repeated. “Your center would be named after her?”

“Yes. Megan was full of life, and Megan's House would be, too. The way I imagine it, anyway,” she added with a smile.

His grandmother sipped tea. “It's a wonderful dream, Allison. And I think you have the vision and persistence to achieve it. Now I understand why my friend Shirley Donovan speaks so highly of you. I must admit, I don't think I could bear to do what you do. Getting close to children when you know they won't all survive.”

“That part is hard,” Allison agreed. “My work isn't all gloom and sadness, though. I get to see strength and resilience and triumph, too. I consider myself lucky.” She paused. “But that's enough serious conversation for one afternoon.” She looked sideways at him. “I think we should change the subject to Rick's butt.”

His grandmother's eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

Allison opened the photo album and handed it to her.

“Two naked pictures on the first page,” Rick put in, shaking his head. “You're lucky I love you, Gran.”

His grandmother was looking down at the album and trying, unsuccessfully, not to smile. “I'm sorry, Richard. I'd honestly forgotten these were in here. But you
were
an adorable little boy,” she added.

“He was,” Allison agreed, smiling at her.

They finished their tea with Evie quizzing Allison about her childhood. She asked about growing up on a farm, and Rick settled back against the sofa cushions to indulge in what was becoming a favorite pastime—watching Allison talk. When she was enthusiastic about something, her whole face lit up. Her hands sketched vivid gestures in the air. Her eyes sparkled, she leaned forward and she seemed to radiate energy.

“What is it?” she asked suddenly, looking at him. She'd just finished describing a typical day on the farm during planting season.

“I like watching you talk,” he said honestly.

Allison blushed, and Rick felt Evie's eyes on both of them.

He cleared his throat. “We should probably think about heading out soon. Allison and I both have to work in the morning.”

“Of course. I understand.” His grandmother glanced at Allison. “I know it's early days, but—” Oh, no.

“If you'd like, I can give you some pictures of Rick to take home with you. I have copies of all his childhood photos.”

It could have been worse. With an opening like
it's early days, but
, she could have launched right into wedding plans.

“I'd love that,” Allison said with a smile.

“Wonderful. I'll go and get them right now.”

After she left Allison grinned at him. “Do you think I'll get copies of the naked ones?”

“Not if she values her life.”

Allison laughed and picked up the album from the coffee table, laying it on her lap and starting to turn pages again.

He loved the way her short hair left her neck bare and exposed her delicate, shell-like ear. He imagined running the tip of his finger over the curve of that ear, and along the graceful line of her jaw, and over her lips.

His imagination had put his hands at her waist, sliding up under her sweater, before Allison spoke again.

“I thought your mom didn't get sick until you were sixteen?”

He frowned, surprised at the question.

She turned the album so he could see it, and pointed to the picture that had caught her attention.

He shifted closer to look, and went still. He sensed rather than saw Allison watching him.

He remembered that picture of him and his mom. Gran had taken it the first day they'd come here to live.

“You both look so…tired,” Allison said after a moment, as if searching for the right word.

That was one way to put it.

“Yeah,” he said. He took in a deep breath and let it out again. “She wasn't sick yet, though. That picture…” he hesitated. “That's from when we came to live here, the first time.”

There was compassion in her eyes. “After your father left?”

He nodded, watching her.

“Moving to a brand-new place, going to a new school…you must have been lonely.”

He felt himself relax. The question she'd asked wasn't the one he had feared. “Not really. I was already into computers, which kept me busy. I started doing sports, too, after we moved here. And this house was like a paradise to me. So many places for a kid to explore. So fun, so safe—”

He stopped.

“Safe?” Allison asked after a moment. But then his grandmother came back into the room, saving him from having to answer.

“Here you go, my dear,” Evie said with a smile,
handing Allison a manila envelope that looked to be well stuffed with photos.

“Thank you so much. And thank you for that wonderful tea, and the tour. I had a lovely time.”

“I had a lovely time, too. I do hope you'll come again.”

“I'd like that,” Allison said, smiling as she stood up. “Would you mind if I visit the powder room before I go?”

“Of course not. It's just through that doorway, down the hall on your left.”

As soon as Allison was out of sight Gran turned on him.

“For all your faults, I never thought you were stupid.”

He stared at her. “What?”

She was scowling at him. “A girl like Allison doesn't come along every day. I was so thrilled when I heard about the two of you… Shirley said the nicest things about her. She's a lovely girl, and it's obvious that you like her.”

“Of course I like her. I'm dating her.”

She swept right past that. “But what a way to show it! You're treating her like a friend, not a girlfriend—and that's where your relationship will end up. Honestly, there was a foot of space between you two all day.”

“As you pointed out, Gran, Allison's not like the other girls I've dated. She'd not into public displays of affection.”

“Oh, for goodness' sakes. I didn't expect her to sit in your lap. But you hold yourself apart from her, and it just about breaks my heart.”

She shook her head. “I've had to watch you with a
parade of bimbos over the years, and now that you've actually gotten a girl like Allison to go out with you, you're going to let her slip through your fingers. Sometimes I think—”

He was saved from hearing the rest of the harangue by the sight of Allison herself coming back into the room. As she came closer, looking sweet and fresh and achingly lovely, his hands twitched with the instinctive desire to touch her.

His grandmother was right about one thing. He did keep his distance from Allison, just as she kept hers from him. He'd given her space because he knew she preferred it that way—and because his attraction to her was borderline explosive, and there was no sense in playing with fire. But now?

They said their final goodbyes at the front door and headed down the walkway toward his car. It was early evening, and the air was turning cool. The clouds in the western sky glowed with red and gold fire.

“So…how do you think it went?” Allison asked after a moment.

He didn't answer right away. His mind was churning, something he wasn't used to. Conflicting desires were wreaking havoc on his usually well-ordered emotions.

And yet there shouldn't be any conflict. The situation was simple. What he needed to do and what he wanted to do were one and the same.

The problem was, he wanted it too damn much.

“Rick? Do you think she bought our act?”

He looked down at her. She was smiling up at him, her eyes bluer than a summer sky, the sweetness in her
a tangible thing. His gaze drifted to her lips, so soft and enticing.

One kiss. Just one.

He knew from experience that anticipation was usually better than reality. There was no way that kissing Allison could possibly live up to his vivid fantasies, and that might help take the edge off his desire.

He cleared his throat. “We didn't get rave reviews.”

Her smile faded. “We didn't? But Evie liked me. At least I thought she did. And I liked her.”

“Yeah, the two of you got along great. That's not the problem.”

“Then what is?”

“I am. She doesn't think I…” He stopped.

They'd reached the car, and he glanced back at the house. As he'd suspected, Evie was watching them through the living-room window.

He looked down at Allison again. She was watching him expectantly, waiting for him to finish his sentence.

She didn't have a clue what was on his mind right now.

He knew he should ask her first. Or at least warn her. But even though it made him a bastard, he wasn't going to do either of those things.

Instead, he took a step closer to her. Crossed the invisible barrier between them.

Her eyes widened as she took a step back, but his car was right behind her and she had nowhere to go.

She went still. Her lips parted as though she were about to speak, but no words came out.

He reached out and cupped the side of her face.

“You're so beautiful.” He heard the rasp of longing in his voice, felt the blood surging through his veins.

Then he kissed her.

T
he first touch of his lips was like an electric shock. Her knees buckled, and she would have fallen if he hadn't grabbed her by the waist.

His hands were like bands of steel, but his kiss was so soft…his mouth brushed over hers in a sweep of satin that made her whole body shiver.

Then he did it again. And again.

He kissed her like that until something inside her caught fire. Her hands went to his chest, her palms flat against his hard contours. She heard herself say his name in a trembling voice, a voice she hardly recognized.

He responded with a low growl. His hands slid around to her back, stroking up her spine to her shoulder blades, molding her to him. When her breasts flattened against his chest she gasped.

She could feel the air between them vibrating, humming, charged with something so magnetic it would
only take the tiniest movement for them to be kissing again. If she shivered any harder…if her heart beat any faster…

She grabbed at the front of his shirt. Before she realized what she was doing, she tugged him closer.

He froze, and for a second
she
was the one kissing
him
, her mouth pressed to his.

Then he caught her in his arms and trapped her in the cage of his body.

His tongue pushed into her mouth and she opened to him eagerly. The kiss went from tender to demanding in the space of a heartbeat, the stroke of his tongue hot and possessive and unbearably erotic. Her very bones seemed to yield to him as she arched her back, rising up on her toes and locking her arms around his neck. She felt the sudden, hard thrust of his arousal against her stomach.

They broke apart at the same time.

She sagged back against the car, gasping for breath, unable to meet his eyes. She stared at his chest as she fought to recover, stunned at her reaction to him.

She felt dizzy, disoriented. Though she'd fantasized about Rick kissing her, none of her fantasies had prepared her for
this
.

“Your grandmother,” she said after a minute, her voice sounding hoarse. She glanced at Hunter Hall, but if Evie had been at a window, she was gone now. “She was watching, wasn't she? That's why you…why you did that.”

“She was watching, yeah.” He paused. “But that's not why I did that.”

Her hands curled into fists. Her heart, already racing, started to beat even faster.

“Allison.”

Her eyes flew up to his face. His expression was fierce, eager, impatient.

“Come home with me tonight.”

She stared at him. “What?”

“Come home with me.”

Her face flamed. Should she be flattered that she'd graduated to the level of all his other women—good enough for a one-night stand?

She closed her eyes. The truth was, she couldn't blame Rick for assuming she'd jump into bed with him. She'd kissed him like she would. Like she wanted him more than air to breathe.

She felt his palm against her cheek, and she opened her eyes to meet his.

She took a deep breath. “Rick, I can't go home with you.”

He dropped his hand, and she could see the eager light in his eyes fade a little. It killed her, because this was the side of Rick she'd been drawn to from the beginning, the one she'd always known was there. She was finally seeing the real, raw emotion he hid from the world.

But she wasn't fool enough to believe that one kiss from her had changed him, had turned him into a man who'd want more than one night or a few weeks from any woman. He'd been crystal clear about that from the beginning.

He was still breathing deep and hard. “Why?” He brushed his thumb across her lips, still swollen with his kiss. “I know you want me.”

He trailed his fingers down the side of her neck, his eyes darkening when she quivered.

Yes, she wanted him. She wanted him with a wildness she'd never even imagined. She wanted him so much she ached with it.

Rick had broken through her fears and defenses to a part of her she hadn't known existed. But if she let him in any further, he'd break her heart. Already she cared for him much more than she should.

“I just want to go home,” she said, trying to speak firmly but hearing her voice tremble. “Please take me home.”

His hand dropped to his side and he took a step back. His expression was frustrated, disbelieving, and it occurred to Allison that women probably didn't turn him down very often.

Which was one of the reasons she couldn't do this. She couldn't become one of that faceless crowd, one of the thumbnail photos in
People
.

It would hurt too much.

“Okay,” Rick said after a minute of silence, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. “Let's go.”

 

The trip back seemed endless. Rick drove in silence, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Allison kept her head turned away as she stared out the passenger window.

She'd seen his face when they'd first gotten into the car and she didn't want to see it again. His expression was so cold and remote it was easy to think she'd imagined it all—not just the heat when they kissed, but the warmth she'd seen in him during the ride over here, and at dinner last week, and when they'd visited Julie.

They pulled up in front of her building. She grabbed the door handle almost before the car stopped, but before she could open it, she felt Rick's hand on her shoulder.

She froze, and he dropped his hand immediately. After a moment she twisted around to look at him.

“What?” she asked, wishing she could make her voice as cold and distant as he could make his. “I'm sorry.”

She waited, but he didn't say anything else. In spite of her determination to stay cool, her temper rose a little. “For what, exactly? Or is this a blanket apology?”

His jaw tensed. “I'm sorry for everything that happened after we said goodbye to my grandmother. Okay?”

Her temper rose further.

“Apology accepted.” She reached for the door again.

“Damn it, Allison, wait a second. Give me a chance here.”

“A chance to do what? You already apologized.”

“Yeah, but you're still mad at me.”

He sounded frustrated, but that, she decided, was not her problem. All she really wanted to do was get inside her apartment and run a hot bubble bath and try not to replay the kiss over and over in her head the way she had during the drive back.

“I'm sorry I kissed you. And I'm sorry things got…carried away.” He paused. “You were right to turn me down when I asked you to come home with me. That would have been a mistake, for a lot of reasons.”

And it would have, of course. But he sounded so cool when he said it.

She remembered the warmth in his voice when he told her she was beautiful. Was he even aware he'd said that to her? Or was that just part of his standard operating procedure?

She'd made the right decision. She knew she had. But for some reason, she suddenly felt like crying.

She took a quick breath. “It's not a big deal. And your grandmother saw us, so it helped your cause. The sooner she believes in us, the sooner she'll give you Hunter Hall.”

And the sooner she could have her normal life back.

He was silent for a moment. “You'll be relieved when it's over.” It was a statement, not a question.

“A little,” she admitted. She'd be sorry, too, but no good could come of admitting that. “I feel bad that we're lying to your grandmother. She has a good heart.”

His eyes met hers. “I think if anyone can see into a person's heart, it's you. I hope you can look into mine and see that I really am sorry. That I would never deliberately hurt you.”

Rick's heart. There were probably people out there who would swear it didn't exist.

She found herself thinking of a dozen different things. The kiss, Hunter Hall, the game he'd created in college. And then she thought of that picture in the album, the one that had bothered him so much.

His mother had looked thin and fragile and frightened, even with the smile she'd tried to put on for the camera. And Rick had been so fierce and protective as he stood beside her, trying to seem taller than he was, determined to be equal to anything the two of them had to face.

With the image of that boy in her mind, she looked again at the man he'd become—strong and powerful, successful and confident. And yet…when he'd first seen that picture, he hadn't looked confident at all. He'd
looked the way he had that day in the hospital, reliving the loss of his mother.

Haunted. Vulnerable.

She thought of the father he wouldn't talk about, and the mother he'd lost. She thought of all the success he'd achieved as an adult, all his wealth, all his power.

She spoke without thinking, uttering something she'd never meant to say out loud. “Your heart is like an open wound.”

His head jerked back as if she'd hit him. For a minute he just stared at her, his expression stunned.

She was a little stunned herself. “Rick, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have—I didn't mean—”

His jaw was tight. “Not a problem,” he said. “Don't worry about it.” He got out of the car and came around to her side, opening the door and standing back so she could get out. “Good night, Allison. Thanks for coming with me today.”

She stepped out of the car and stood looking at him. “Good night,” she said finally, unable to think of anything else to say. She started to walk toward her building, but when she heard his door slam shut and his engine start up, she turned back a moment to watch him drive away.

What had she been thinking? How could she have said something like that to a man like Rick Hunter?

Unless her subconscious had done it deliberately. Said something that the rich, powerful CEO would reject so completely he'd keep her at arm's length for the rest of their time together.

Because if the walls went up between them again, she wouldn't have to face the emotions churning inside her right now—the longing and regret and fear and desire
that made her heart clench as she watched his car turn a corner and disappear from sight.

Maybe this was her way of running from those feelings. Or of driving Rick away.

If so, she'd done a damn good job of it.

 

It was a relief to be inside her apartment again. She took her favorite book into a hot bubble bath, and soaked until the water turned lukewarm. By the time she toweled off, put on pajamas and crawled into bed, she was starting to feel a little better. The bath had made her sleepy, and she started to drift off as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Then the phone rang.

She opened her eyes and glanced at the glowing digital numbers on her clock. Ten was a little late for a call on a Sunday night, but it was probably family.

“Hello?”

“Allison.”

She was instantly awake, as if she'd rolled off the bed into ice water. Her hand tightened on the phone. “Rick?”

“Yeah. I'm sorry to call so late.” He paused. “I hope I didn't wake you up.”

“No, I…wasn't asleep.”

“That's good.” Another pause. This one went on so long she was about to check the phone connection when she heard his voice again. “Allison, I need to see you. Just for a few minutes.”

Here? Tonight? In her apartment? “Um…”

“Please.”

She could hear the tension in his voice, and she knew she couldn't say no.

She sighed. “Okay.”

“I'm downstairs right now. I can come up there, or we can go someplace for a drink if you'd rather.”

Her heart thumped at the knowledge that he was so close.

“You can come up here. Give me a minute and I'll buzz you in.”

“All right. And thanks.”

Her pajamas were modest enough, but just to be safe, she put on a thick quilted robe and her oversized bunny slippers. Confident that she was sending no romantic signals whatsoever, she padded out to the living room and hit the buzzer.

A few moments later he was at her door.

The other advantage to her plaid armor was that it hid her body, which reacted to his presence in alarming ways. If she'd been wearing nothing but her thin cotton pajama top he would have seen her nipples harden for him, and that was a humiliation she could do without.

She stepped back to let him in. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thanks.” He followed her into the living room, hesitated a moment, and then took a seat on an armchair across from the couch.

Like her, he seemed to be avoiding anything that could be construed as a romantic signal.

She sat down on the sofa and cinched her robe a little tighter.

He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped together. “I've been driving around the city for the past hour, until I ended up back here.” He took a breath. “I'm so sorry for the way I acted tonight. And for leaving the way I did.”

She shook her head. “I'm the one who should apologize. I had no right to say what I did. It was way too personal and—”

“It was true,” he said, his voice harsh. “What you said was true. I just…didn't think anyone could see it. I'm like the wizard of Oz, telling people not to look at the man behind the curtain.”

“Rick, you don't—”

“Let me finish. I don't know what it is about you that just…cuts through things. Maybe it's the work you do. If I dealt with cancer patients every day, with real pain and suffering, I'd be impatient with people's facades, too.”

“Rick—”

“The funny thing is, I wanted the smoke and mirrors to work on you. I wanted to impress you. Even though what I like about you most is that you couldn't care less about money or power or any of that crap, even though it's childish and shallow, I still wanted you to be impressed. I sure as hell didn't want you feeling sorry for me.”

“I've never felt sorry for you, Rick. Not once. That's the truth, and you have to believe me. I can see there's pain inside you, but that doesn't mean I pity you.”