The Millionaire's Secret Wish Read online

  “Omigoodness, she’s such a little lady,” Amy said of Michelle as the baby daintily picked at the dry cereal Kate put on her high-chair tray.

  Kate laughed. “She’s probably good for about thirty minutes, then I’ll need to bow out. She can scream with the best of them.” She turned to Alisa. “I’m so glad you called us. I’ve been wondering how you’re doing.”

  “Good for the most part,” Alisa said, appreciating the warmth she felt from both women. “I’m driving, even though it terrifies Dylan. I’ve remembered my French enough to work and I’ve remembered a lot about when I lived at Granger. I’m having a tough time, though, with events that happened before the accident and was hoping you could help me.”

  “What do you want to know?” Amy asked. “Justin only had good things to say about you. When Justin and I were first married and I was afraid I’d made a huge mistake, you told me some things about him that made me look at him differently. You were always good with the kids.”

  “Same here,” Kate said. “Michael always said you were the little sister all the guys wanted but never had. Except for Dylan, of course,” she added with a smile.

  “What about Dylan?” Alisa asked.

  Kate and Amy exchanged a look. “What about him?” Kate asked. “He cared for you even more than Michael and Justin. You remember some of the things from Granger, don’t you?”

  “Yes, but I feel like there’s something more,” she said. “I know there’s something more.”

  “I haven’t known Dylan very long, but there’s never been a time when you were around that he wasn’t trying to get your attention. You weren’t interested in him that way,” Kate said.

  “Maybe because of how we were involved as teenagers,” Alisa mused.

  “You remember that?” Amy asked with wide eyes as she drank the tea and made a face. “I don’t like this stuff. I’d rather have a soft drink.”

  “Then ask the waitress for one, silly,” Kate said with a laugh.

  “I will,” Amy said, then turned back to Alisa. “What do you remember about your romance with Dylan?”

  “Not everything,” Alisa said. “When I still lived at Granger’s, I remember sneaking out to meet him at night and we would talk and…” She shrugged, uneasy with revealing their private moments.

  “And sneak a few kisses,” Kate added.

  Alisa nodded.

  “And when you left?” Amy asked.

  “I don’t remember,” Alisa said, thinking about the psychiatrist’s words again. “I was told that my emotions might block some of my memories, particularly if it’s something that upset me.”

  Amy nodded. “And do you remember anything from college?”

  “I went to a girl’s college. It was near a big public university. I wanted to major in art, but my mother and stepfather pushed French over art, so I got a minor in art instead.”

  “Do you remember dating in college?” Amy asked.

  “Not much. I met my fiancé when I was finishing my last year.”

  “But you don’t remember anything about Dylan while you were in college?”

  “No. Why should I?” Alisa asked.

  Amy seemed to hold her breath. Kate glanced at the baby. They knew something, she could see. They knew something she didn’t know. “What do you know?”

  “I don’t really know anything,” Amy said. “I haven’t known Dylan very long, so anything I tell you would be third-or fourthhand.”

  “But third-or fourthhand is more than I have right now.”

  Amy exchanged another glance with Kate. She hesitated, and seemed to struggle with herself. “Justin got the impression you and Dylan got involved during college.”

  Alisa’s heart tightened, but she continued to draw a mental blank. “How?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know the details. I was just led to believe that it didn’t end well.”

  Alisa’s stomach churned. She set down her tea cake and tried not to give in to an ugly feeling of foreboding. She tried to remain rational even though her feelings were strong. “Didn’t end well,” she repeated. “Well, that covers a lot of ground, doesn’t it?”

  Amy watched her carefully. “Yes, it does. Did I jog your memory?”

  Alisa shook her head.

  “Have you asked Dylan about any of this?” Kate asked as she shared a bite of cake with Michelle.

  “Yes, but he says he thinks I should remember it on my own.” She looked at each of the women. “It’s time for some answers.”

  Kate’s eyes grew solemn. “If you need anything, please call me.”

  “Same here,” Amy said.

  “I appreciate your truthfulness,” Alisa told them. “I’m at a disadvantage.”

  “It’s a tough situation,” Kate said. “If I were you, I would want to know everything I could. At the same time, Amy and I only have hearsay. Dylan is the one who can tell you more. Plus, whatever happened between you happened years ago, and you’re different people now. That should count for something.”

  Alisa saw Kate’s concern in her eyes, but with each passing moment she suspected that whatever had happened between her and Dylan was going to have a major impact on their future. Alisa felt like her past and future were speeding toward a head-on collision. She wondered if her heart would survive it.

  After a long but successful board meeting, Dylan drove home and found Alisa on the veranda. The sight filled his heart. Sometimes he still had to pinch himself that she was with him. Jazzed by his recent success, he sneaked behind her, grabbed her and twirled her around.

  She gave a little yelp of surprise, but her smile was full. “What are you doing?”

  “I have great news and you’re partly responsible,” he told her sliding her slim body down the front of his. The closeness reminded him of how it felt to hold her when he made love to her, which he planned to do again as soon as possible. “I won approval for the research project.”

  Her eyes widened. “That fast?”

  Dylan nodded. “That fast,” he said. “Brother Grant was very vocal in his support, and I pulled in some favors.”

  “Congratulations,” she said, and lifted her mouth to his.

  Dylan suspected she’d intended a brief kiss, but he wanted more. Having Alisa in his bed had been like providing oxygen to a part of him filled with burning embers. The more he had of her, the more hungry he became for her. He slid his tongue inside her lips to taste her sweetness, to feel her sigh. He felt the rush of arousal surging inside him and tamped down his impatience.

  Pulling his mouth back, he rested his forehead against hers. “I want to celebrate with you.”

  “How?”

  “I want to make love to you,” he told her, and kissed her again.

  He inhaled her scent and slid his fingers through her hair. She kissed him with passion, then pulled away and ducked her head beneath his. “We need to talk,” she said in a husky voice.

  “About?”

  “I have some questions and I really need them answered,” she said, and finally lifted her gaze to meet his. “You’re the one with the answers.”

  Dylan felt his gut twist at the expression in her eyes. He would almost swear she remembered. If she had, however, he knew she wouldn’t have kissed him just now. He also knew he could no longer wait for her memory to kick in. He would have to give her the truth she deserved.

  Taking a deep breath, he pulled away from her and went to the edge of the veranda. “What are your questions?”

  “I’ve got some important gaps in my memory. One is when I was in college.”

  “You went to a small women’s college,” he said.

  “I know that,” she said, moving to stand beside him. She wished he didn’t feel a million miles away. “I want to know what happened between you and me in college.”

  He looked at her sharply. “What do you remember?”

  “I don’t,” she said, her anxiety doubling at the cold sound of his voice. “That’s why I’m asking you!”
>
  He narrowed his eyes and looked over the veranda “A bunch of your friends talked you into going to the nearby university to make the rounds at the fraternity parties. You told me you weren’t wild about the idea, but you didn’t feel like staying by yourself at the dorm. I don’t know how many frats you visited before you visited mine, but I remember the moment I saw you walk through the door.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t believe it was you.”

  Alisa closed her eyes and tried to remember. She saw a hazy vision of herself walking through the doorway of a house packed with coeds dancing and partying. “I felt out of place.”

  “You looked like you did,” Dylan said with a faint smile. “One of my fraternity brothers hit on you right away, but I intervened. You looked just as surprised to see me.”

  “You got me a soda and we tried to talk, but the music was too loud,” she recalled.

  “So we sat out on the front porch,” he said. “I took you home and kissed you good-night. It was different than when you and I were teenagers.”

  Alisa’s heart bumped. She remembered the heat and promise in the kiss. She remembered falling in love with him again. As if the floodgates broke open, she was barraged with memories. She had been totally and completely in love with Dylan. “We saw each other every weekend,” she said. “I wanted to be with you every minute,” she said remembering how desperately in love with him she’d been.

  With his fingers he gently lifted her chin upward so that she met his gaze. “I wanted you every minute,” Dylan said with an honesty that stole a piece of her heart. “I wanted you so much it scared me. I started to need you, and I had learned early on that needing people was bad news, so I fought it.”

  A sensual memory stole across her mind, heating her skin. “We were lovers. No wonder I felt like—”

  “Like what?” Dylan asked, his eyes penetrating.

  “When we made love a few nights ago, I felt like you knew my body. You knew how to touch me,” she said.

  His gaze darkened possessively. “I’ve been waiting to make love to you for a long time,” he told her.

  Her heart hammered at the look in his eyes. “Why did you have to wait?”

  He was silent for a long moment, and Alisa felt her mind whirl again. “I was crazy for you. What could have driven us apart?” she asked, looking away, trying to concentrate. “I remember my grades were sliding. I was having trouble with statistics.” She covered her arms as she remembered snow covering the ground as she struggled with the concept of mathematical probability. “I had to get help and it still didn’t make sense.”

  She felt Dylan’s presence, but she remembered how worried she’d been about her grades. “I told you I couldn’t see you,” she said. “We fought. It lasted a couple of weekends. There was some kind of fraternity bash you wanted me to attend, but I just didn’t feel like I could go. I hated having you angry with me, so I decided to surprise you,” she murmured, recalling how she’d borrowed a friend’s dress and begged for a ride to the university.

  In slow motion Alisa saw her younger self all dressed up, eager to please, excited to surprise Dylan. “My hair was tied back,” she murmured, wondering why her heart felt so heavy.

  “With a black ribbon,” Dylan added. “You wore a black satin dress.”

  “I walked through the fraternity house door. It was so loud. The music, the voices. Somebody was dancing on a table.” She closed her eyes. “It smelled like everyone had taken a bath in beer.” She remembered looking for Dylan, but not finding him. She’d asked several people and they nodded toward the back of the large room. She kept walking and finally saw him with his hands on a very pretty girl’s hips. They’d been kissing, uninhibited carnal kisses. His body had been pressed against hers. Her hands had slid through his hair with intimate familiarity.

  Alisa had felt sick. She felt sick even now. “You were kissing her,” she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at Dylan in disbelief.

  “She was kissing me,” he said.

  “I thought you loved me,” she told him, the betrayal welling up inside her as if the event had just taken place.

  “I did,” he said, his face rigid.

  “No,” she said, the grief inside her overwhelming. “Me, singular. We had something so special. Why did you do that? How could you?”

  He raked his hand through his hair. “It was eight years ago, Alisa. You knocked me on my butt. When you wouldn’t come see me, I wondered if you were losing interest. I didn’t plan it. I even thought about skipping the party, but my roommate talked me into staying. I drank a few beers and this girl kept after me.”

  Renewed humiliation crowded her throat. She had never felt so betrayed in her life. The visual of Dylan’s mouth on the girl’s slapped her again and again like a slide of the same picture again and again. She began to tremble.

  “Alisa,” Dylan said, reaching for her.

  She pushed his hand aside. “No. I—” She swallowed over the old betrayal and new confusion. “I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “When?” he asked. “In the hospital when you were in ICU and your brain was swollen and they didn’t know if you would live?”

  She squeezed her forehead. “I guess not, but there must have been a time after I got out of the hospital.”

  “Your doctor encouraged me to let you remember things on your own. You didn’t need any extra pressure. That’s why I brought you here.”

  “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.

  Nine

  Dylan 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 couple 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.”