The Millionaire's Secret Wish (7 page)

The doorbell rang, and Alisa’s heart leaped into her throat. As she hurried to greet the guests, she crossed her fingers that all three Remingtons would be on Dylan’s doorstep. She opened the door to one and only one. Her stomach twisted. “Grant,” she said, working to produce a smile. “Please come in. I’m pleased you could join us.”

He nodded, glancing around the foyer as he entered. He wore a curious but reserved expression on his well-sculpted, perfectly bored face. She wondered if Grant resented the fact that his father’s money had provided Dylan with the means to purchase this home. He shouldn’t, she thought, in light of the fact that Dylan had been denied a father throughout his childhood. She took a mind-clearing breath and pushed the thought aside. Tonight was for mending. Tonight was for possibilities.

Alisa believed in the possibilities even if Dylan didn’t.

The puppy let out another whimper and Grant cocked his head to one side. “Is that a dog?”

“New puppy,” she said, leading him toward the den. “I think he misses Mom.”

“What kind?” he asked with the barest trace of interest.

“Golden retriever. You want to see him?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Sure.”

“This way,” she said, and led him to the Florida
room where Dylan was petting the puppy and talking to him in a low voice. He shook his head. “I hate to hear you cry, bud, but you have to get used to this kennel until you learn not to take a leak on the floor.”

Clearly pleased with the attention, Tonto wagged his tail.

“Nice-looking animal,” Grant said.

Both Dylan and the puppy looked up. Dylan met Grant’s gaze. “Thanks.”

Grant moved closer to pet the dog. “Did you just get him?”

Dylan nodded. “A gift,” he said, and the word sounded a bit forced to Alisa. “Watch your shoes. Tonto’s not particular.”

Grant glanced from Alisa to Tonto back to Dylan, and a wry smile cracked his practically perfect face. He bent down to pet the dog anyway. “I always wanted a golden retriever.”

“Then you have something in common with Dylan,” Alisa said. “He always wanted one, too.”

Dylan shot Grant a curious glance. “Why didn’t you ever have one?”

“My mother had a poodle. She thought retrievers were too big for the house.”

Dylan shrugged. “At least you had a poodle.”

“My mother had a poodle,” Grant corrected. “And that dog didn’t like kids. I’m not sure my parents liked kids, either,” he said with a wry chuckle.

At a loss, Alisa glanced at Dylan for help. He was
clearly lost in thought. “Your sister and brother were also invited, but we didn’t hear from either of them.”

“My brother’s in Bangladesh finding himself, so I doubt he’ll be showing. My sister is probably still having nightmares from having met Dylan at the cocktail party. She operates on the principle that if she closes her eyes long enough, whatever is bothering her will disappear.”

“So why did you come?”

Grant cracked a smile. It was a shark’s smile that gave her the willies. “I want something from you.”

Dylan paused, then nodded with approval at his half brother’s directness. “Good, because I want something from you.”

This was all just a little too strange and cool for Alisa’s taste. “Why don’t we have some dinner before you two begin your negotiations? The cook has prepared an excellent meal.”

“What about the dog?” Grant asked.

Dylan shoved the dog into the kennel. “Tonto will provide the dinner music,” he said, and the puppy immediately began to whine.

From Alisa’s point of view, the meal might as well have been a contest of wits. Dylan and Grant parried and feinted throughout each course. When the cook delivered the cherries jubilee, Alisa was delighted to see the end of it. She ate a few bites, then excused herself to her room, leaving Dylan and Grant to face off again.

Dylan requested after-dinner brandy from the cook,
then asked Grant if he preferred to take it on the outside verandah or in the den.

“Outside,” Grant said. “I’ve been inside all day.”

Dylan gave his half brother a measuring glance as he joined the man with a brandy. “So, what do you want?”

Grant raised his eyebrows. “You don’t beat around the bush. I could like that about you,” he said. “I want your votes and any enthusiasm you can muster to put me in the position of CEO for Remington Pharmaceuticals.”

“Power,” Dylan said, not at all surprised. “Why should I vote for you?”

“Because I know the company and I care more about it than anyone else.” His eyes narrowed. “I may even care more about it than my father did.”

“I don’t know much about our father,” Dylan said, unable to keep a hint of bitterness from his voice.

“He had his failings,” Grant said. “But in the end he tried to do the right thing. It wasn’t right that he hid his paternity of you until he died. I think he tried to make it right in his will.”

“It’s a funny thing,” Dylan said, taking a sip of brandy. “When you’re a little kid, you’re not interested in money and mansions. All you want is a father.”

“If it helps any, he wasn’t a particularly good father. He wasn’t interested. He didn’t show up for athletic events or graduations. But he covered your college educa—”

“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Dylan corrected. “I got a baseball scholarship and took out the rest in loans that I paid off before your dad died.”

Grant met his gaze and Dylan saw a flicker of respect. “Hmm. Baseball scholarship. You must have been pretty damn good.”

“I played a lot of ball at the Granger’s Home for Boys,” Dylan said. “There wasn’t a lot of money for anything else.”

Grant sighed. “That’s life. You got a bum deal with my dad. You got a good deal with the lady.”

Dylan frowned. “Lady?”

“Alisa,” he said. “I can’t tell if the relationship is friends or more.”

“It’s complicated,” Dylan said, and silently added,
none of your business.

“She’s one of a kind. If you get tired of her—”

“Save your breath,” Dylan said. “That won’t happen.”

Grant shrugged. “I’ve told you what I want. What do you want? A bigger piece of the Remington fortune? More money? Intro into the country club?”

Dylan smiled. His half brother had clearly underestimated him. “No, I want your support to start a bioengineering research division of Remington Pharmaceuticals.”

Grant did a double take. “That’s pretty damn expensive.”

“Yep. I’ve got start-up funding for the first year.”

“From who?”

“A private charitable organization,” Dylan said.

“That’s a lot of money,” Grant said doubtfully. “I don’t know many people who want to part with that much for charity’s sake.”

Dylan grinned again and lifted his glass. “Then maybe you’ve been hanging around the wrong crowd. Do we have a deal or not?”

“You’ll support me as CEO if I support the bioengineering research project,” Grant clarified. “You’ll need more than my votes.”

Dylan nodded. “I have more than your votes.”

Dylan watched a glint of surprise cross Grant’s face. “How?”

“Favors,” he said. “I’ve collected a few.”

Grant studied. “You’re smarter than I thought. I underestimated you.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’re not the first. In fact, you might say it’s one of those things that has served me well my entire life,” Dylan said.

“So how do I know you’re not going to try to stage a takeover against me?”

“Because I don’t want to take over anything,” Dylan said. “I just want one little piece of Remington to grow on my own. You were born and bred to the job, and that’s okay with me. But by some little crazy twist of fate, I ended up with a seat on the board, and it’s not enough for me to just sit.”

Grant gave him a long, measuring glance, then seemed to make up his mind. He extended his hand.
“Deal,” he said. “Next time we’ll have dinner at my house.”

Dylan felt a rush of triumph and surprise as he shook his half brother’s hand. He could almost believe Grant meant every word, but Dylan wouldn’t hold his breath. The most important thing was, he had what he wanted in sight.

F
rom the staircase Alisa tentatively watched Dylan as he stared at the front door Grant had just closed behind him. This could be good or bad, she thought, and gave in to her curiosity. “How did it go?”

He turned around and grinned widely. “Great!” Rushing toward her, he grabbed her in his arms and swung her around. “Thanks to you.”

Delighted but confused Alisa clung to him for dear life. “What do you mean thanks to me? It was your idea to invite Grant and the others to dinner.”

He stopped, allowing her to slowly slide down the front of his body to stand on her feet. His chest was hard, his scent made her dizzy, and the look in his eyes dissolved her knees.

“But you gave me the idea by saying it might be to my benefit to spend some time with them in a different setting.” He lowered his head and kissed her. “Thanks.”

Alisa’s heart hammered in her chest. His arms held her loosely against him, but she was all too aware of his closeness. All too aware of his vitality and masculinity. “You’re welcome,” she managed. “Does this mean you’ve had some kind of meeting of the minds?”

Dylan nodded slowly as if he still didn’t quite believe it himself. “Yeah. He even said something about inviting me to dinner sometime, but I won’t hold my breath. What’s important is he has agreed to support my proposal for a research project for Remington Pharmaceutical.”

Dinner.
Alisa’s heart and mind hung on the word. Maybe Grant was a little closer to accepting Dylan. “I’m so pleased,” she said. “I wish the others had come, but—”

Dylan waved aside her concern. “I don’t need the others. All I needed was Grant’s support to give me a little extra weight. Turns out he wants my support so he can be CEO. I don’t need the others.”

Her heart tightened at his words. She couldn’t help wondering if Dylan truly needed anyone. It seemed as if he’d built a world for himself where he was nearly self-sufficient. Could he ever need a woman for more than physical release? Could he ever need a woman so much he thought he’d die without her? A
forbidden longing swept through her. What would it take, she wondered, to show Dylan that he didn’t have to be self-sufficient?

“We did it,” he said, his joy pulsing through him. Holding her with his gaze, he lowered his mouth to hers again, this time taking his time and her breath. He rubbed his lips from side to side, and like a gentle, sensual invasion he slid his tongue just inside her mouth.

Alisa felt a slow burn travel throughout her blood. She opened her mouth to him, willing him closer and deeper. Stretching her arms around his shoulders, she pressed against him, reveling in the sensation of his hard body. Distantly she felt him guiding her back against the wall. He slid his thigh between her legs, and she drew his tongue into her mouth. Gliding his hands down to her hips, he rolled his pelvis against hers, making her wet with the erotic promise of his movements.

A restless urgency caught in her chest and spread outward. She wanted more, so much more.

Dylan reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers and drew in a shallow breath. He swore softly. “All I did was kiss you and I’m so hard I could burst.”

Alisa swallowed. “Makes you wonder what might happen if we were doing more than kissing,” she murmured.

Dylan’s eyes lit with dangerous desire. “You’re making it damn hard for me to do the right thing.”

“Maybe you’re not doing the right thing,” she
said, her heart pounding. “If I can drive a car, then I’ve recovered enough to—”

He covered her mouth with his hand, and something rebellious drove her to slide her tongue over his palm. He sucked in a quick breath and shook his head. “I gotta get out,” he said, pulling back. “You—” He swore again. “I gotta get out for a little bit. I’ll see you later.”

Alisa gripped the wall as she watched him leave. She was neither offended nor humiliated. The man had been so aroused he’d stuttered. While she didn’t want to attempt walking at the moment, it was gratifying to know she wasn’t the only hot-and-bothered one.

Her heart hammering in her chest, she felt a smile well up from her toes. She was getting to him. Inhaling deeply, she wondered if she had the guts to take the next step. She closed her eyes at the hot possibility. What if he rejected her again? What if he didn’t?

The possibility tempted and seduced.

Alisa smiled again. She was getting to him.

Dylan took a mind-clearing drive to Justin’s house to share his good news. Soon after he arrived, it became obvious that with the kids tucked in bed, Justin and Amy had a romantic evening planned. A sore reminder of what Dylan had left behind.

Dylan gave Justin a quick update, then took the long way home with the top down on his convertible.
He kept hoping the wind would blow some sense into his brain. His mind kept gravitating back to Alisa and how she’d felt in his arms. She’d kissed him as though she wanted all of him. Everything about her seduced him. The look in her eyes, the texture of her skin, even the way she breathed.

He struggled with the never-ending urge to slide inside her and take her again and again. She had been more girl than woman when he’d known her all those years before. Now she was the woman who haunted him and taunted him day and night.

He was still hard with wanting her. He swore. Just three more days until she was gone, he told himself. He would have done his duty and helped her recuperate without taking advantage of her. All he had to do was last three more endless nights, then she would be out of reach. Soon enough she would remember and hate him again for what happened years ago; he didn’t want her hating him for anything he did now.

Thirty minutes later with his mind set, he pulled into his garage and walked into his house. Silence greeted him. He breathed a sigh of relief that Alisa hadn’t decided to confront him or wait up for him. He checked on Tonto and found the puppy sleeping.
Thank goodness.
Dylan just hoped the dog’s bladder would hold until morning. If ever he needed a full night’s sleep, it was tonight.

He slowly climbed the steps and turned down the hall, stopping outside Alisa’s room. He touched the wooden door and thought about the woman inside.
His gut began to ache. Pushing his needs aside, he dropped his hand and walked to his room. He would feel its emptiness more than ever tonight.

He pushed open the door and didn’t bother with the light. Stripping off his clothes, he tossed them on the valet and turned back to his bed. But it wasn’t empty.

In the near pitch-black darkness, Alisa knew the second he saw her. The air turned electric. Her heart raced.

“What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for you,” she whispered.

He exhaled, but she could still feel his tension. It pulsed between them. “Why?” he demanded.

Alisa refused to shrink under his unwelcoming tone. “Because I want you and you want me.”

He swore under his breath. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Taking her courage in her hand, she slid from beneath the sheet and scooted to the edge of the bed. She rubbed her mouth against his and her bare breasts against his chest. “Why do I make it hard?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light and teasing even though she found it difficult to breathe. “Isn’t it my job to make it hard?”

“I don’t want you to regret this,” he muttered, sliding his fingers through her hair.

“A funny thing happens when you almost die, Dy
lan,” she said. “You don’t want to miss anything. I don’t want to miss you.”

His indecision shimmered between them for less than a minute, and Alisa waited to breathe.

“Oh, Alisa,” he murmured, pulling her into his arms. “So help me, I’ve been waiting for you for such a long time.”

In the corner of her mind she wondered how long he’d waited. Alisa had the sense that stones from his wall were falling down all around her. She clung to him as he took her mouth with pure passion. She felt the sizzle of it kick through her blood.

His was no easy, playful kiss. His mouth consumed her, demanded her response, and the wild force of his need made her head spin. He slid his hand down to boldly stroke her stiff nipple, then lower still to her bare rear end, undulating her intimately against his hardness. Everything he did told her he planned to take her in every possible way a man could take a woman. She shuddered in expectation.

“Touch me,” he told her, seducing her with sensual, openmouthed kisses that made the air around them feel heavy with sexual expectancy.

Her breasts grew swollen beneath his touch. Lower, between her legs, she felt slick with arousal. Sliding her hands down the warm, smooth skin of his shoulders and chest, she made a vow to herself to memorize every nuance of him and this night. Somewhere inside her she knew this night would always be important to her. With that instinct, she pushed aside her
inhibitions and resolved to make this a memory he too would never forget.

Lowering her head, she skimmed her tongue across his chest, then swirled around his nipple. He stiffened in response and she pressed her cheek against his chest to listen to the fast, heavy thud of his heartbeat. She allowed her hand to meander down over his abdomen and belly button, lower to the soft hair surrounding his hardness.

Although her need and his seemed to race through her like an oncoming freight train, she was determined not to rush. She felt him holding his breath, waiting for her touch. She fought the urgency and skimmed her hand to the side, caressing his hard thigh.

Lifting her mouth to his, she caught his muttered oath with her lips and made love to his mouth while she drew her hand closer and closer.

“When are you going to put me out of my misery?” he asked against her mouth.

“It’s so good I want it to last,” she said, and lazily guided her thumb from the base of his hardness all the way to the top. Swirling her tongue around his, she echoed the movement with her thumb on his erection, dragging his honeyed arousal around the swollen tip.

Dylan’s groan vibrated inside her mouth. “Two can play,” he warned and gently pushed her back on the bed. His knee pushed apart her legs and he drew her nipple into his mouth. “I love the way you taste,”
he said, and made her feel like the most desirable creature in the world.

He touched her waist and squeezed her hips, then lowered his fingers to her thighs and caressed her. He glanced the swollen bead of her sensitivity with one long stroke, then caressed her thigh again.

Alisa moved restlessly beneath him. He touched her again with one agonizingly slow and thorough stroke and again moved away. Alisa’s pulse hammered throughout her body. The combination of his mouth on her breasts and his teasing fingers made her sweat. She bit her lip.

When he took the long intimate stroke again, the promise of pleasure was too great. She couldn’t prevent her lower body from arching up to him. Her body was begging.

“You like that,” he said in a voice rough with approval and began to stroke her. He slid a finger inside her and she felt herself go to the brink.

Frantic, she covered his hand with hers. “Not this time. I don’t want to go that way,” she said.

“Oh, Alisa,” he said with a laughter that shimmied through every nerve ending. “You’re going every way.”

She touched his face, meeting his gaze. “Promise me,” she whispered. “Promise.”

Something deep, dark and timeless flickered in his eyes. “Promise,” he said and kissed her.

He toyed with her, seeming to know exactly how to touch her, and she felt herself clench with pleasure.
As if from a distance, she heard him encouraging her in a low, velvet voice. Before she could breathe, he lowered his head down her belly and began to take her with his mouth. Alisa clutched the coverlet on his bed with her fingers as his wicked wonderful tongue drove her up and over again.

Weak with pleasure, she looked at him through a haze of wonder. She wondered why she had the sensation of familiar, yet new. Had she dreamed of this so often that she felt she knew him intimately?

He pulled a plastic packet from his nightstand and protected her, then entwined his fingers through hers. He lowered his head so that he was mere breaths from her face. “I promised I would go with you. Promise me you’ll never regret this.”

His low-voiced demand made her heart squeeze tight in her chest. How could she ever regret being with Dylan? She felt her eyes fill with tears. “That isn’t possible. Not—”

“Promise,” he said, and his eyes were full of a dozen emotions.

“I promise,” she said, and he thrust inside her.

Alisa’s breath stopped. His invasion was swift and sure. He filled her so completely that she felt overstretched.

“I hurt you,” he said, and began to pull away.

Alisa shook her head adamantly and slid her arms around his back to hold him tight. She took a careful breath. “It’s just been a while,” she finally managed. She licked her dry lips and willed herself to relax.

His dark gaze wrapped around her and held her. She heard him give a long sigh as if he were reining himself in. “So we’ll go slow,” he said, and moved inside her with an excruciating deliberate stroke.

Twining his fingers with hers again, he held her hands and every part of her inside and out. For those few precious moments she felt as if there was nothing between them. With each slow thrust he became more and more a part of her. Notch by notch he took her up the scale of arousal again. She could see by his clenched jaw that his restraint cost him.

The overwhelming sense of fulfillment echoed inside her heart, mind and soul. When he pushed her over the edge of pleasure again, she kept her eyes open and felt as if she were staring her destiny in the face.

He reached for her again in the middle of the night. A quick, hot coupling steeped in raw need that left her both breathless and sated. Then in the morning he made love to her slowly again, as if to savor her presence in his bed. He made love to her as if she were the most delightful surprise he’d ever found. His lovemaking made her want to be more to him, do more for him. Being this close to him made her want to heal all his wounds and make his wishes come true.