‘Me, you mean,’ he offered when it was clear she wouldn’t say it.
‘No. Well, not only you,’ she said when he gave her a doubtful look. ‘She’s told me the major things. But the details...she didn’t really offer them, and I never wanted to ask.’
‘Why not?’
‘I...’ She faltered. Frowned. ‘I guess I didn’t want to push her to talk about something she didn’t want to talk about.’
‘Sometimes we need to be pushed to talk about the things we don’t want to talk about.’
‘So I should force you to talk about why you left?’ she shot back, eyes troubled, and then she immediately shook her head. ‘No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘No, you shouldn’t have,’ he replied. ‘Not because you’re wrong—you’re not—but you sounded...defensive.’
‘No.’
‘No?’ he repeated. ‘No, you didn’t sound defensive? Or no, you’re not allowing me to call you out on sounding defensive?’ She didn’t answer him and he sighed. ‘Jess—’
‘You’re right,’ she said with a slight laugh. ‘I’m being defensive because I’m defending my decision not to push my friend to tell me something just in case it ends up pushing her away. From me.’
Realising the enormity of what she’d just admitted—to him, to herself—Dylan said, ‘She probably didn’t tell you about the house because you didn’t push. Because you knew not to push.’
‘I...don’t understand.’
‘But you do. The fact that you don’t ask her about it means you understand,’ he told her. ‘Anja wanted a clean start. We both did. So, new houses and no talk of the past.’ He gestured for Jess to sit down and, after he’d helped her, he settled down himself, their legs dangling over the hill.
‘It’s easier that way,’ she said. ‘Except, for some reason, we keep talking about our pasts with one another.’
He didn’t reply. Chose not to since all he wanted to say was that it made no sense. Nothing about what was happening between them made sense. All Dylan knew was that he felt as if he’d been caught in an alternate reality where it didn’t have to make sense. Where all the reasons why sharing with Jess—why getting to know her—was a bad idea ceased to exist.
A voice inside his head screamed that he didn’t want this. And yet he found it easy to ignore it.
And felt himself sink deeper.
‘You told Anja about your parents, didn’t you?’
‘Yeah, she knows.’
‘Good.’
‘Good?’ she repeated. ‘Why’s that good?’
‘You shouldn’t keep it to yourself.’
‘I haven’t been,’ she said wryly. ‘I’ve shared more with you than I ever have with Anja.’
‘You...have?’
She gave a soft laugh that went right through him. ‘She doesn’t know about the laptop thing. Or that they used to hold things like that against me. She only knows that they were...bad parents. That the money made them worse.’ She paused. ‘Or maybe it’s just easier for me to blame the money instead of who they are.’
‘There’s more.’
‘Isn’t there always?’ she asked with a small smile. ‘But you get the picture.’ She lifted a shoulder.
He reached out and took her hand, and only really realised he had when she flipped hers over and threaded her fingers through his. He didn’t know how long they sat like that, but he did know that it felt good. That for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel alone.
It had warmth spreading through his chest, even though he could acknowledge that it shouldn’t have. Even though he could acknowledge that he should pull back, pull his hand from hers, before things could become more complicated. Before the alternate reality became his real one.
Instead, he said, ‘I’m surprised you’re being so nice to me, knowing what I’ve done.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Leaving.’ He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. ‘Hurting Anja.’
‘I’ll admit, I didn’t want to be nice to you.’ Now he did look at her, and she gave him a small smile. ‘I started working for Anja a couple of months after your father died. More than a month after you left.’ Jess’s free hand lifted, and she began to trace circles on her stomach. ‘Of course, I didn’t know that then. Anja was always professional with me, though I could sense that something was...off.’ The circles grew larger. ‘Then one day I found Anja crying and she told me about your father’s death, and...how much she missed you.’ Her hand stilled. Fell to her lap. ‘I think that was the day our professional relationship changed into friendship. And I immediately took Anja’s side in it all.’
‘You should have. I’ve been a terrible brother.’ Shame, guilt, anger washed through him. ‘You should treat me like I’m a bad person.’
‘But you’re not.’
‘I am to Anja.’
‘No, Dylan. You just...hurt her. But you’re a decent man, just like I told you this morning.’ She squeezed his hand and then gently pulled hers out of his. He instantly felt a little emptier. ‘And if I base my opinion of you on how you’ve treated me since we’ve met instead of what I thought I knew about you before we met, it’s easy to be nice to you.’
‘Even though I told you the way I’ve treated you might be because I want to get on Anja’s good side?’
She laughed. ‘Trust me, if you wanted to get on Anja’s good side, being nice—or whatever it is you’re being to me—would not be the way to go.’
‘Why not?’ Her expression changed, closed. ‘Jess—’
‘Do you plan on telling Anja why you left?’ she said instead of answering his question. She didn’t want to talk about it, he thought. Which he should respect. Even if it was strange that she’d drawn the line with that.
‘Of course,’ he replied, though he could hear the hesitation in his own tone. She nodded but didn’t respond, and he watched as her hand went to her stomach again.
He frowned and, for the first time in a while, thought about her pregnancy. About the implications of her pregnancy. About how those implications meant he shouldn’t have brought her to this place—to his place—which would, no doubt, always remind him of her whenever he came now. About how it meant that he shouldn’t be talking to her like he hadn’t to anyone else before, how he shouldn’t allow himself to be comforted by her—to comfort her—when there was another man in her life.
Even if that man did appear to be absent for the moment.
‘How has it been going?’ he asked to keep himself from getting lost in the hope that thought brought. It was more urgent now, more pressing, and his mind had cleared enough for him to know he couldn’t allow it to be.
‘How has what been going?’
‘Your pregnancy?’
‘Oh, fine.’ She waved a hand. ‘I can’t complain.’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
She laughed softly. ‘How is it that you can see through me so easily, Dylan?’ The words felt like a punch in the stomach, but she didn’t give him a chance to double over. ‘I can’t and won’t complain. There are so many women out there who would love to be in my position.’
‘Not entirely,’ he murmured, and she gave him a confused look. ‘I’m sorry, you probably don’t want to be reminded of it.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
She was going to make him say it, he thought, and sighed. ‘You’re pregnant and alone, Jess. You didn’t even want to call to ask the father of your child for help this morning. I don’t think that’s a position many women want to be in.’ He waited and then added, ‘You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t bother you.’
She blinked. And then she threw her head back and laughed. It sounded just as much in place in the forest as the birds he usually heard chirping in the trees. He wasn’t sure what confu
sed him more: that he’d thought that, or that she was laughing at her predicament.
‘I didn’t realise I’d made a joke,’ he said stiffly.
‘Oh, no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’ She broke off, bit her lip. And then she sighed, and the expression on her face changed to what he thought was resignation. ‘I’m not pregnant and alone, Dylan. No man has abandoned me.’
‘But—’
‘I made you think that?’ He nodded. ‘Sorry. It’s only because...it’s complicated,’ she said slowly. Seconds ticked by, turned into minutes, but neither of them spoke. Eventually Jess looked at him and something inside him flipped at the emotion in her eyes.
‘Dylan...this baby...it isn’t mine. I’m just...the surrogate.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
JESS HELD HER BREATH, hoping that she hadn’t made a mistake. She knew she probably shouldn’t have said anything to Dylan. But whatever it was that had her opening up to him—that had her telling him about her parents, that listened to his concerns about his past—had demanded that she tell him the truth. So had the part of her that had softened at his concern that she was going through her pregnancy alone.
It would be fine, she thought now, releasing her breath as she watched him. She wasn’t betraying Anja by telling Dylan that she was a surrogate. As long as he didn’t know that she was Anja’s surrogate, it would be fine.
She hoped.
‘You’re...a surrogate?’
‘That’s what I said,’ she replied lightly, hoping that it would defuse some of the tension between them.
‘But...how? I mean, why?’ Dylan shook his head and angled his body towards her.
‘Well, I have a...friend who struggled to fall pregnant.’ It was the best explanation she could offer.
‘So you...offered to carry her child for her?’
She tilted her head, felt her heart sink. ‘I did. Is that a problem?’
‘No...no, it’s not.’ He lifted his eyes to hers. ‘I’m not judging you, Jess.’
‘Really? Because it really feels like you are.’ And it was such a surprise that her throat felt clogged.
‘It’s just...a lot to take in.’ Emotion crossed his face. ‘I’ve never met...someone like you,’ he said, looking away. ‘I guess I’m struggling to understand why you’d do this to yourself.’
‘Do what to myself?’ Jess asked, cautioning herself to pull back when she wanted to snap the words at him. ‘I get that you’re trying to process this information, which is fine, I suppose, but you don’t have to understand my choices.’ She wanted to get up, storm off, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to with her stomach in the way. She glanced down at the distance to the ground from where she was, and clenched her jaw. She couldn’t risk it. ‘Would you help me up? It looks like it’s about to start raining and we should probably get back.’
He nodded and helped her up without a word. She felt even more annoyed when her skin prickled at his touch. When her body became so much more aware at his proximity.
But it gave her steam to storm off, and she walked ahead of him through the trees, leaving the buildings of Cape Town behind them.
It really was a beautiful place, she thought. And now that she knew how personal it was to him, she wondered why he’d let her tag along. Why had he told her things even Anja hadn’t told her?
Why had she shared things with him? About her parents? She’d told him more about them than she’d ever told Anja. And why did she feel so disappointed by his reaction to finding out the baby she carried wasn’t hers?
All of it worried her. And, just like she’d first thought when she’d met Dylan, it convinced her that she couldn’t become involved with him. Or come between him and Anja. Anja was as close to family as she had, and she couldn’t do anything to damage that. And she should probably stay away from Dylan if she kept that goal in mind.
Besides, she didn’t want to become involved with Dylan...did she?
Just as she thought it there was a sudden clap of thunder, followed by the sound of rain. Not the steady, calming rainfall that often started rainy days, but a hard, angry downpour that had them both coming to a stop.
‘I’m sorry,’ Dylan said after a few moments. ‘We should have left earlier.’
‘Don’t apologise,’ she breathed, eyes on the rain. They were under the shield of the trees, which seemed to have formed some kind of canopy protecting them from the majority of the water. From where they stood, they could see the rain pouring down in front of them. ‘It’s all a part of the view.’
‘I didn’t quite anticipate this one,’ he said with a soft laugh. ‘Though it is something.’ Neither of them spoke as the drops around them grew heavier.
‘There’s a part of me that wants to stay here until the storm is over.’
‘Because you don’t want to get wet?’ Dylan asked, turning towards her.
‘Because it’s so beautiful. Angry, but beautiful.’
‘Yeah, I know that feeling.’
Her eyes met his and she felt a shift in the air between them.
‘What makes you think I’m angry?’
‘Because of the way I responded to your...news back there.’ His face tightened, but he didn’t look away.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I think it does.’
His words stirred something in her chest, and she shook her head. ‘It shouldn’t. Our lives, our decisions, don’t affect one another.’ Though those lives, those decisions did seem to be intersecting, she thought. ‘The smartest thing we can do is to remember that.’
Silence followed her words, and she felt the change in him before she saw it on his face.
‘Are you always...smart, Jess?’ he asked slowly, taking a step forward. Breaching the gap between them.
In her mind she stepped back, maintaining the distance that would ensure she wouldn’t do something that would prove the exact opposite of her words.
In reality, her feet stayed exactly where they were.
‘I like to think so,’ she replied, her voice husky.
She wondered why, and then got the answer when she suddenly found herself pressed against Dylan’s body. She swallowed, and a voice in her head desperately warned her that she couldn’t make this mistake.
It warned her to move, to run, and get a room in a hotel as far away as possible from the man who held her in place with only his eyes.
But then the voice was muted by another, louder one in her mind. One that shouted only one thing.
Stay.
‘I don’t think I’m being very smart now.’
‘With me?’ Dylan asked, his eyes heating, his arms going around her. ‘Should I be offended?’
‘Not unless you think I’m wrong?’ When he didn’t reply, she nodded. ‘I didn’t think so.’
She kept her eyes on his as she brought her mouth closer, closer still, until finally their lips touched.
Jess felt thunder boom inside her at the contact. Felt it break something, and then, like the rain, that something poured through her body into her blood, rushing through her as she sank into the pleasure of kissing Dylan.
Because the man could kiss. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved, no uncertainty in the way his tongue stole her breath. Her body trembled as her blood carried a headiness through her that she’d never felt before. As if its purpose had become more than to simply carry oxygen through her body. No, now it felt as if it carried thrills, sensations, awareness through her veins, and her hands tightened at Dylan’s waist in response, as if they wanted to grip the feeling.
As if they wanted to capture it and never let go.
Dylan groaned as his hands moved over her body. Over the curves of her hips, her rounded belly, her breasts. They ached from his touch when his hands lingered, and then heated when he kneaded, softly, gently, adding more p
ressure each time so that the ache turned into longing, into desire, into fire.
He pressed her back until her feet hit a tree, the force of it sending a puddle of water right on their heads. But neither of them stopped. No, the coolness helped keep the fire at bay. Helped them start the kindling all over again.
Jess ran her hands over his back, over the muscles she’d admired ever since she’d first seen them in his backyard. Over the ridges she’d fantasised about. His shirt was plastered against his body from the water, and she moaned softly at how it saved her the trouble of going under his shirt to feel what she wanted.
Her fingers swept across the hardened planes, her hands moving from his back to his biceps, and then between them to his pecs.
It was so defined, so damn sexy that suddenly it felt as if she’d lost her breath, and she had to pull away so that she could breathe. His chest heaved as much as hers did as he rested his forehead against hers, and when their eyes met his lips curved into a smile that was the perfect illustration of what they’d just done.
Reckless. Spontaneous. Dangerous.
‘It’s raining,’ she said huskily.
‘Yeah, I know,’ he replied with a soft chuckle. ‘We both knew that before...this happened.’
‘No, Dylan, I mean it’s raining here, on us.’ Just as she said it, drops splattered hard on both their faces. ‘I don’t think we can stay here any more.’
‘No, we probably shouldn’t.’
He took her hand and then whistled for Daisy. Seconds later, the dog came sprinting through the trees, wet and blissfully unaware of what her owner had just got up to. Together they ran for his house—although Jess couldn’t quite call what she was doing running. But Dylan didn’t seem to mind, and soon they were in the house, completely drenched.
‘We should probably get out of these clothes,’ she said, and felt her face burn as soon as she said it. ‘I don’t mean—’
‘I know,’ he said with a slight smile. Silence beat between them, and then he shook his head. ‘But you’re right. Besides, I should sort this little bugger out.’
He looked down at Daisy affectionately, and Jess felt something tumble in her chest. Not surprising, she thought, considering that everything inside her felt as if it had come apart.
Tempted by the Billionaire Next Door Page 6
