‘I don’t know,’ she replied, and quickly ate another spoonful of peanut butter. She regretted it immediately when she noticed he was still watching her, and tried her best to act casually. When she’d swallowed, she reached for the bottle of water he’d offered her earlier and drank greedily.
‘I don’t really like the décor,’ he continued as though there hadn’t been any pause after her answer. ‘But I’d already left before it was finished, so I wasn’t really involved with the decision-making. Anja was, though, since we used the same guy for both our places, and I prefer hers.’
‘I thought you hadn’t been back since...since you left,’ she finished lamely, though his expression told her he knew she’d meant to say since your father died.
‘No, I haven’t been back, but I saw pictures of both our places. I think Anja purposely gave the designer free rein to get back at me.’
‘For what?’
‘For leaving.’ His eyes stayed on hers. ‘Though you’d know more about that than I would.’
‘Anja didn’t tell me about the décor at all. I think it might have been before my time.’
‘I wasn’t talking about the décor.’
She forced herself to hold his gaze. ‘I’m not sure what you’re talking about.’
‘About my sister’s feelings about me leaving. You mentioned that she told you more than just the fact that I’d left for business.’
‘Yes.’
‘Care to share?’ He gave her a smile that told her he was trying to charm her again.
‘No.’
The smile faltered. ‘I thought—’
‘What?’ she interrupted. ‘That I’d tell you everything your sister told me?’
He lifted an arm. Rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I thought that since you were her friend, you must know...something.’
‘The fact that I’m her friend means that I wouldn’t tell you what I know.’ Jess set down her bowl and perched on the edge of her chair. ‘You didn’t ask me over because you wanted the two of us to get along for Anja’s sake. You asked me over so that I could tell you something that would help you get along with Anja.’
‘And if I tell you you’re right?’
‘Then I’d say that it was lovely meeting you, Dylan, and wish you all the best for your return to Cape Town on my way out.’
He set his lunch down just as she had, and when he met her gaze his expression was a plea she felt hit her right in the chest. ‘You must have known that was part of the reason I asked you over.’
She considered it. ‘Maybe. But—’
But I wanted to believe that you wanted to get to know me.
She nearly laughed at herself. Clearly she hadn’t learnt her lesson yet. People never wanted her.
‘It seems like you want something from me that I’m not willing to give you. So it’s probably best if I just leave.’
‘No, Jess, don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because... I’m sorry.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’ve handled this poorly.’
‘You’re apologising way too much for someone who’s only just met me,’ she said softly. Coolly.
‘So I’ll be honest instead,’ he replied, his voice tight. ‘I wanted to know...what I was coming back to. The extent of the damage I caused by leaving.’
‘I think you already do.’
He nodded. ‘It would be nice to have some more...context.’
She shook her head and rose to her feet. ‘I don’t have context to give you. No,’ she said when he opened his mouth to protest. ‘Your context should come from Anja. Or your mother.’
His face darkened. ‘I suppose I’ll have to wait for Anja to get back then.’
Jess frowned. ‘You don’t have to. Your mother lives—’
‘Thank you, Jess,’ he interrupted, and stood with her. ‘It’s been lovely meeting you.’
Though Jess didn’t understand his reaction, she knew that he was asking her to leave. She would have been offended if she wasn’t so...curious. It was clear that Dylan had no intention of asking his mother about what had happened after he’d left. And the look on his face told her that there was a reason for that. A reason even Anja didn’t know, or else Jess would know, too.
It was all very interesting, but Jess told herself it was none of her business. Again. She didn’t know why she had to remind herself of that so often, so she murmured her thanks to Dylan and walked towards the door.
‘Jess—’ Dylan said from behind her.
‘It’s okay.’ She opened the door and gave Daisy one last pat. ‘You don’t have to explain it to me. I get it.’ She paused. ‘It was lovely meeting you, too, Dylan. I hope your return to Cape Town is everything you hoped it would be.’
She walked out before he could reply.
* * *
Dylan stared at the door long after Jess had left, hoping that their interaction wasn’t an omen for the rest of his return.
He knew the way things had spiralled between them was his fault. But he’d wanted to know what Jess knew. He told himself it was because it would give him an indication of what Anja knew. Of what his sister thought of him. But, deep down, he knew it was because he didn’t want Jess to judge him based on the only thing he’d done in his life that had disappointed his sister.
Because he’d been disappointed, too, and he knew what it felt like. His entire life, his father had disappointed him. It was the best—or, rather, easiest—word to use to describe how Dylan felt about his father. About the man’s gambling addiction. About his absence. And perhaps Dylan would have been able to put it all behind him after his father had died if he hadn’t found out his mother had known about his father’s problems before he or Anja had been born.
He and Anja had spent their entire childhood trying to comfort their mother after their father had left them. They’d no longer been children. Instead, their existence had been dedicated to keeping the woman who’d borne them from spiralling into a deep depression.
What had been the point of all that when his mother had known what she’d been getting into with his father?
When Dylan had found out, he couldn’t bring himself to tell Anja. So he’d left, and tried to deal with the anger by himself, away from her. His anger at the secret his mother had kept from them. His anger about the inexplicable grief he felt at losing a man he’d barely known.
He couldn’t get past the irony that by wanting to keep Anja from the same disappointment he’d felt in their parents, he’d disappointed her. More than that, he thought, remembering that expression on her face when he’d told her he was leaving again. He’d abandoned her.
Just like his father had abandoned them.
CHAPTER THREE
JESS WOKE UP to water dripping onto her face.
It took her a moment to realise that water was dripping on to her face, and more time to realise that that wasn’t a good thing. She sat up and looked at the ceiling, only to see a long, slim strip of water dripping across the length of the room.
Her first thought was that she needed to close the water main, and that she’d figure out where the water was coming from once she had. But when she reached down to put her shoes on, she realised that she didn’t actually know where the water main was.
It took her another few minutes to figure out that she needed to ask Dylan for help, and she sighed before slipping on the soft boots she wore as slippers.
The entire floor of the passage to the front door was wet, and Jess’s heart beat heavily in her chest as she walked through the water. She locked the door and then rushed to Dylan’s house, and waited impatiently for him to answer after she rang the bell.
Seconds later he opened the door, and Jess found herself staring into a bare chest. Again. Why didn’t he have a shirt on? she thought, annoyance straightening her spine. Didn’t he
realise it was autumn? She tilted her head up, and only then saw that his hair was mussed from sleep. Which, she discovered, had the same effect on her as his bare chest.
She forced herself to focus on the reason she’d woken him. ‘Do you know where the water main to Anja’s house is?’
He frowned. ‘Yeah, why?’
‘No time. I’ll explain after you shut it off.’
His eyes swept over her, and for the first time she realised that the only thing she’d done after waking up was put her slippers on. She must look a mess, she thought, wincing internally. But she wouldn’t dwell on it now. Which was probably a good thing since a voice in her head reminded her that she’d woken with water on her face, which had probably made her look even worse.
Thankfully, he seemed to take her appearance as a sign of urgency and he walked past her, barely waiting for her to waddle after him before he was at the front of Anja’s house, opening a concealed hatch and reaching inside. Then he was at her side again, offering her another view of his naked chest.
‘You’re going to catch a cold if you don’t put a shirt on,’ she said, crossing her arms when her comment reminded her that she didn’t have much on either. She was more dressed than he was, but her oversized shirt and black pyjama pants were not exactly the items she’d have chosen had she known she was going to see anyone, let alone him.
Besides, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and she knew her pregnancy boobs weren’t going to politely refuse to be noticed, especially in the cold.
‘If you keep telling me to put a shirt on, I’m going to think you have a problem with me being shirtless. And then I’d have to ask why you have problem with me being shirtless, and I’m guessing that’s not a conversation you want to have.’
As if to prove his point, he ran a hand through his hair. His biceps bulged and her throat went dry.
‘I’m only worried about your health,’ she managed stiffly.
‘Oh, I forgot. Because of your medical background, right?’ He grinned and she almost—almost—smiled back. Instead, she pressed a hand on his hip and pressed gently, much like she had the day before. And, just like he had the day before, he winced.
She gave him a sweet smile. ‘How’s your hip feeling?’
‘Oh, aren’t you hilarious?’
‘I’m not the one trying to be a comedian this morning.’
‘I wouldn’t have had to be anything besides asleep if you hadn’t woken me up.’ Now he ran a hand over the back of his neck, pushing his chest out ever so slightly. She swallowed. ‘What time is it?’
‘I... I don’t know,’ Jess replied as she realised she didn’t. She winced. ‘I’m sorry for waking you up. I just didn’t know what to do...’ She waited a beat. ‘Thank you. For your help.’
He nodded. ‘You have a burst pipe?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is that I woke up with water dripping onto my face.’ She sighed. ‘The house is a mess.’
It would be a logistical nightmare for her. Not because she would have to take care of getting it fixed, but because she wasn’t only staying at Anja’s house to house-sit. No, she had just bought her own place and was staying at Anja’s until her new home could be made liveable. It was small, and the deposit had taken most of her savings, but it was her own. A fact that always, always brought her joy.
It reminded her that when she’d cut ties with her parents two years ago she had nothing except her university degree. It could have been enough, especially since her surname meant something in the finance industry she’d been trained for, but she hadn’t wanted to rely on that. She wanted something of her own. Something that couldn’t in any way be attributed to her rich, successful parents whose only concern had been their business.
Not the child they’d mistakenly conceived.
So she’d applied for a job she was wholly overqualified for, doing the day-to-day admin for a yoga studio. She updated and maintained Anja’s website, managed bookings, dealt with queries, emails and, for the past year, helped Anja with the admin for opening her studio in Sydney. It had been a dream of Anja’s as Chet was Australian and she’d wanted roots there just like Chet had in South Africa.
And the job had turned out to be a dream for Jess—the constant stream of things to do a welcome distraction from the past and the parents she’d walked away from.
For two years Jess hadn’t spent any of the money she’d earned on anything besides the essentials. It meant that she was able to afford the small flat she’d bought, twenty minutes away from Chet and Anja’s place. But that flat was a mess.
She couldn’t begrudge it since its state was why she’d got it at such a good price, but it needed a lot of work before anyone could live there. Since Chet owned a construction company he’d offered to do the work for her, and had refused payment. And then Anja had found out Jess’s lease was ending and her landlord was being difficult about letting her stay there on a month-to-month contract and had offered for Jess to stay at their place until her flat was habitable.
She knew they felt indebted to her. Especially since she’d refused to consider payment for carrying their child. But really, she saw them as family. As the only family she had. And family did things like that for one another. They cared, and helped, and sacrificed. Not because they wanted anything in return, but because they loved one another.
The concept was foreign to her parents, and that was part of the reason she hadn’t spoken to them in two years. But it was okay. She’d found her place.
Except in the literal sense, since her place was currently flooded.
She sighed again. ‘I should probably call Anja. Excuse me.’
‘There’s not much she can do from there.’
‘Maybe not, but I still need to tell her before I start sorting it all out.’
‘Sure,’ he agreed. ‘Or, if you give me a moment to put on a shirt, I can have a look and help you sort it out. So when you do call Anja you’ll be calling her with answers, not just a problem.’
Relief swept through her first, and then came the niggling suspicion. Why was he offering to help her? What would he get from it?
‘You’re trying to get back on Anja’s good side again, aren’t you?’
‘Isn’t that why I do everything?’ he replied dryly, making her wonder what he really meant. Dozens of options went through her head but, for the life of her, she couldn’t focus on one of them. Realising it meant that she was tired, that she needed help, Jess nodded.
‘I’d appreciate the help. Thanks.’
‘I’ll see you in a minute.’
She watched as he jogged back to his house, taking in the way his jeans rode low on his hips. It gave her the perfect view of a very fine butt, and a muscular back just asking her to run her hands over it.
Jess tried to ignore the way her body responded to the idea, but then she realised that Dylan wearing jeans to bed didn’t make sense. If he didn’t wear a shirt, he definitely wouldn’t wear jeans. Which meant that he must have just thrown on the first thing that had been close by...and that he probably didn’t wear any pants to bed either...
The image sent her thoughts down a dangerous road, and suddenly she couldn’t stop imagining what Dylan would look like naked. Or what it would feel like to be in that bed with him, turning over during the night to run her hands over that delicious body of his. To snuggle closer and kiss him, to feel the way his body responded to hers. With him naked, there would be no barrier to what would happen next, and she’d be able to—
‘Jess?’ She jumped and felt her cheeks flush when she saw Dylan in front of her, completely clothed, with a puzzled look on his face. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Ready to go inside?’ She didn’t wait for his answer and instead walked to the house.
Where had that come from? she thought. She wasn’t the kind of girl who had fantasies about men
she barely knew. Hell, she didn’t have fantasies about men at all. She’d never been the type. She hadn’t felt the need to date around and see where it would take her. She’d had two steady boyfriends in her life, and both relationships had only lasted about a year.
When her last relationship had ended, Jess had seen no point in trying again. Sure, it might have been because her life had completely changed shortly after the break-up. But she’d worked hard to rebuild it—by herself—for the last two years and she hadn’t seen the point in having a man around while she did.
So perhaps the fantasy she’d just had about Dylan was the result of the nothingness she’d had in her life since she’d broken up with her last boyfriend. Or it could have been her over-excited pregnancy hormones. She would put it down to both, and refuse to acknowledge the third option.
That maybe she just wanted her best friend’s brother.
She was almost relieved when she saw the puddles on the floor when she walked in. It gave her something else to think about. Something else to worry about.
‘Wow,’ he said from behind her.
‘Yeah,’ she replied, taking it all in. ‘I’m not sure what happened.’
‘It looks like it came from the second floor. I’ll go take a look.’
While he was upstairs, Jess tried to do some damage control. She used towels to soak up the water on the floor, and wiped all the surfaces that had been affected. Fortunately, it seemed the water had only leaked in her bedroom, the kitchen and onto the passage that led to the front door, missing the carpeted lounge and its expensive furniture.
But she was still out of breath when Dylan returned.
‘It looks like a geyser burst. A quick fix, though I’m not sure we can say the same for the ceiling. There’s some water damage—’ He broke off and frowned at her. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, fine.’ She waved a hand. ‘I’m just not used to not being able to do normal things like dry the floor.’
‘Why don’t you rest for a bit? I’ll finish up here and make the necessary calls.’
Tempted by the Billionaire Next Door Page 3
