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Authors: Abigail Strom

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“I lied to you. About Allison. We weren't really dating—not at first. I asked her to pretend we were, because I knew that was the only way I could get Hunter Hall.”

She was quiet for a moment. “You felt you had to do that? Lie to me?”

He remembered talking to Gran on the phone, the day he'd first met Allison.

“I couldn't stand the idea of losing Hunter Hall. It's always felt like home, with you living here. But if you leave, and Jeremiah moves in…it won't be.”

There was another silence.

“I'm partly to blame,” she said slowly. “I hated seeing you alone, and I always wanted a family to live in this house. And I thought if I made my feelings clear, perhaps you'd at least consider dating a different type of girl—a girl you could actually fall in love with. I was hoping all along I wouldn't need to give the place to Jeremiah.” She sighed. “I had no business trying to manipulate you like that. Considering the circumstances, I forgive you for lying to me.”

She looked up at him, and while her green eyes might have been brighter fifty years ago, they couldn't have been any sharper. “What did you mean when you said you and Allison weren't really dating
at first?

He smiled a little. “Yes, Gran, my plan backfired. My make-believe romance turned into reality. At least for a little while.”

“I see. And now?”

He looked away. “It's not in the cards, Gran. You
might as well call Jeremiah and tell him the good news.”

She shook her head. “I've changed my mind about Jeremiah. I've never really liked him, or that dreadful wife of his—and there's no reason I would like their children any better, if they ever have any. I'd rather give this place to you, my dear—even if you live here alone all your days, and die a curmudgeonly old bachelor.”

He stared at her. “But…why?”

“Well, you're my favorite grandson.”

“I'm your only grandson.”

“That, too,” she said with a smile. “In any case, I'll be moving out within a month—and Hunter Hall will be yours. What are you going to do with it?”

He looked up at the gabled rooftops silhouetted against the blue sky. With Hunter Hall in his possession, he now had everything he'd ever wanted.

He closed his eyes.

“I don't know,” he said. “I don't know.”

She reached up and put a hand on his cheek. “Why don't you take a walk, Richard? Take some time to clear your head. Down by the pond, perhaps. That was always a favorite spot of yours.”

The pond was a quarter mile away. From here, he could just see the tops of the willow trees.

“Good idea,” he said. He smiled down at his grandmother and gave her a quick kiss. “I love you, Gran. I don't think I tell you that enough.”

“No, you don't. But I love you, too.”

She watched him walk across the grounds until he was out of sight. Then she went back inside the house to call Allison.

 

Allison went back to her apartment to shower and change. She took her time, counting every second. Only then did she let herself make the drive to Hunter Hall.

When she got there, Meredith answered the door.

For a moment the housekeeper just stared at her. Then she called out, “Evie! She's here… Allison's here!”

Meredith let her in, and there was a hurrying of footsteps before Rick's grandmother came into view.

“Thank goodness,” she said. “I've left messages at the Star Foundation but of course no one's there today, and your home number is unlisted.” She paused suddenly. “You did come to see Richard, didn't you? I've just been assuming, but…how did you know he was here?”

Allison took the elderly woman's hand. “Because this is where Rick goes when he's hurting.”

Evie's eyes filled with tears.

“Can you tell me where he is?”

Evie nodded. “He's down by the pond,” she said, leading Allison to a set of French doors opening onto the gardens. “If you follow that path, it'll take you there.”

Rick was sitting on a stone bench, staring out at the water. He sat so still that Allison slowed to a halt, watching him.

A minute went by, and another. Allison knew she hadn't made a sound, but something made him look over his shoulder, and he saw her.

She moved toward him then, taking a seat on the bench. He was still in his black tuxedo pants and white dress shirt, wrinkled and stained now, and his jaw was rough with stubble.

“Allison,” he whispered as if he couldn't believe she
was there. Then he took her in his arms and kissed her hair, her cheeks, her eyelids, and finally her lips.

When he broke the kiss he pulled her even tighter against him, wrapping her up in a cocoon of warmth and strength. But she could feel his body shaking, and she knew he was feeling anything but strong right now.

“I'm sorry,” he said, his words muffled against her hair. “I had to kiss you one last time.”

She pulled away a little, enough so she could look at him. “Why does it have to be the last time?”

He didn't answer her right away. He took her hands in his and looked down at them, and when he spoke his voice was quiet.

“You know why. I know what you saw in my face this morning, and I don't want you to see that again. I don't want you to look at me and see Paul.”

“You're nothing like Paul.”

“I don't want to look in the mirror and see my father.”

“You're nothing like your father.”

His eyes met hers. “Right after you bumped into Paul last night, I went into the bathroom and saw my reflection. That was when I thought you were still in love with him, and I was so jealous I…” He closed his eyes. “I looked exactly like him. And then, this morning…I could swear his eyes were looking out of my face.”

He opened his eyes again. “You said there's nothing lurking in the darkness anymore. But for me, there's still something lying in wait. Something I'm not sure I'll ever be free of.”

“Violence,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Rick, have you ever hurt someone weaker than you?”

“God, no,” he said, a look of absolute revulsion in his eyes.

She smiled a little. “I wish you could have seen your face when I asked you that question. You're a strong man, and you'd fight for someone you love. But you're not capable of hurting an innocent.”

“You can't know that for sure.”

“Yes, I can.”

“But how? How can you know that?”

She framed his face with her hands. “Because I know you. I trust you. I trust you with my life, Rick. With my hopes, my dreams, my heart.”

He stared at her. “All of that?” he whispered.

“All of that.”

His voice sounded shaken. “I don't trust myself, yet.”

“I know. But I trust you enough for both of us.”

He pulled her into his arms and hugged her close, so close she had to push against his chest after a moment.

“Oxygen,” she gasped, laughing.

He laughed, too, a little shakily. “I love you, Allison. I love you so much. I wanted to give you everything, to lay the world at your feet, but you're the one with all the gifts—all the gifts that matter.”

He took a deep breath. “There is one thing I'd like to give you, though. I'd like to change the name of this place.”

“Change the name of Hunter Hall?”

“Yes. I'd like to call it Megan's House.”

She stared at him.

He took her hands in his. “It's just an offer. Maybe you'll decide this isn't the right place for your center after all. Megan's House is your dream, and you're the only one who knows what will make it come to life.”

Her head was spinning. “I can't… I don't…”

“You've spent your whole life making wishes come true for other people. It's time someone granted a wish for you.”

Tears burned behind her eyelids. “But Hunter Hall is your family home. I know how much it means to you.”

“It doesn't mean anything to me.”

“But—”

“I always thought it did. This place was my holy grail…a piece of magic I could never really possess, a wish that would never really come true. Even when I thought it would be mine someday, something about it never seemed quite real.

“When I came here today, I realized why. It's because I thought, all these years, that what I wanted was the house. That the magic was in the house itself. But what I really wanted, what I really wished for, was what I always found here. Love, family, happiness, peace. But those things don't have anything to do with Hunter Hall—not the building, anyway. Those things are about people.”

He cupped her face with one hand. “You're my grail, Allison. My every wish come true.”

She covered his hand with hers and closed her eyes. She hadn't known it was possible for her heart to feel so full.

“Would you say it again?” he asked after a while.

She knew what he wanted to hear. “I love you.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Maybe you could just say it over and over until—”

She cut off his words with a kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. “Or you could do that,” he murmured against her mouth.

She kissed a path along his jaw. “Let's go tell your grandmother you're okay, and then let's find a room. I don't care where it is, as long as there's a bed in it.”

He surged to his feet, pulling her up with him. “Your wish is my command.”

Epilogue

Six Months Later

“W
hat's going on with you, Richard?” his grandmother asked him. “You haven't stopped smiling all day.”

“Why wouldn't I be smiling? Megan's House officially opened its doors today.”

The two of them looked out over the grounds of the Hunter estate, where children and their families were enjoying the beautiful autumn afternoon. Allison was helping to flip burgers with Rachel and Jenna.

“Six months, and you still can't take your eyes off her,” his grandmother said. “When are you going to take the final plunge and propose?”

“Funny you should ask,” Rick murmured. “See you later, Gran,” he added as he moved purposely across the lawn.

He came up behind Allison and slid his arms around her waist.

“Take a walk with me,” he said, as she twisted around to give him a quick kiss.

“Now? But the party—”

“Will be fine without us for a little while.”

She cocked her head at him. “You're up to something,” she said after a moment, smiling.

“That's a definite possibility,” he admitted as he took her hand. He led her down to the pond and over to the stone bench where she'd found him that day six months ago.

They sat in silence for a minute, breathing in the dense sweet scent of fall and listening to the willow trees rustle in the breeze. Allison was watching a family of ducks glide by, a soft smile on her face.

He reached into his pocket and knelt down at her feet.

She stared at him, her eyes wide, and then down at the ring in the black velvet box lying open in the palm of his hand. It was a tiny flower made of jewels, one perfect diamond surrounded by sapphires.

“Oh, Rick,” she breathed, looking back up at him.

His voice was strong, but there was a tremor in it, too. “Allison, will you marry me?”

She tried to speak and failed. Then she slid off the bench and into his arms.

“Yes,” she said, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Rick closed his eyes and held her tight.

And when Allison pulled back so he could slip the ring on her finger, he knew that here, with her, he'd come to the very center of the labyrinth. He could see
into the deepest reaches of his heart. And instead of the darkness he'd always feared, there was light, blinding light—and a love that would burn brighter every day.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-8809-0

THE MILLIONAIRE'S WISH

Copyright © 2011 by Abigail Strom

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Silhouette Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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BOOK: The Millionaire's Wish
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