Tempted by the Billionaire Next Door

by Therese Beharrie

  Except you still think that your parents’ attitude towards you has something to do with you.

  Jess forced herself to speak. To distract herself from the annoying voice in her head. ‘How could he keep gambling? Didn’t the money ever run out?’

  ‘The success of the family business prevented that from happening. My grandfather had made sure that my father would get a percentage of the profits every year, paid out monthly, until he died. He always had money.’

  ‘And what about you? And Anja? And your mother?’

  ‘My father didn’t quite look out as well for us as his father had for him,’ Dylan said with a thin smile. ‘We were okay for a while after he left. My father kept cash in a safe for emergencies—that’s what he told us, though now I realise it was probably for him, just in case he needed some quick cash to fund his habit—and we used that to keep us going for a while.’ He picked up his fork again. ‘Anja and I figured it out.’

  ‘What happened when the money ran out?’

  ‘I—’ he cleared his throat ‘—I went to my father’s work. I hoped I would find him there, ask him to come back.’

  ‘But he wasn’t.’

  ‘No. Turned out his job there wasn’t really that important. He was more of a...figurehead for the empire that held his name. My name,’ he added. ‘When I asked for him, they told me that he hadn’t been there in months.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I asked to speak with someone who could help me.’ He gave her a small smile. ‘I was brazen for fourteen, but fear had forced it.’ The smile faded. ‘I was terrified I wouldn’t be able to look after my family.’

  ‘Oh, Dylan.’ Jess reached over, laid her hand on his arm, before pulling back again.

  ‘It worked out.’ The smile was back, hiding some of the vulnerability she saw on his face. ‘They sent me to the CEO. Ridge had worked closely with my grandfather, considered him a friend. He knew about my father’s problems, but had no idea about what was happening with us. He made sure that we were taken care of until Anja and I got access to the trusts neither of us knew we had. My grandfather had set that up, too, though he died before we were old enough to know him.’

  ‘How long until you got your trust?’

  ‘Seven years.’

  ‘So for seven years you were at this man’s mercy?’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. Ridge was good to us. He taught me everything I know. Because of him, I could actually run the company my grandfather started when Ridge stepped down.’

  ‘You’ve done a great job of it.’

  ‘At what cost?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  He shook his head, and Jess opened her mouth to press. But she stopped herself. Thought that maybe he felt as if he’d told her too much. So she didn’t push. Instead, she thought about the man who had taught Dylan about his family’s company.

  When her stomach churned, and her memory stirred, she tried to push the thoughts away. But it was too late. Her mind kept replaying the thought. A stranger taught Dylan about his company. Your own father wouldn’t teach you about his.

  ‘It’s been fine while you’ve been gone, you know,’ she said suddenly. Desperately. ‘They’ve both been fine. Anja and your mom.’

  ‘I know. I’ve spoken to them. My mom—’ His face tightened, his jaw clenched. ‘I had her in London with me for Christmas last year.’ When he lifted his eyes to hers, a pain she didn’t understand shone in them. ‘Anja wouldn’t come.’

  Why didn’t she believe that that was the reason for the pain?

  ‘She had her reasons,’ Jess said instead of asking him about it. She thought about Anja’s reasons for not spending Christmas with Dylan and their mother, and it took a surprising amount of strength for her not to tell him what those reasons were.

  They’d done their second embryo transfer in December, and Anja had wanted to be around when they did the tests to find out whether Jess was pregnant.

  It had been a stressful experience since the first transfer hadn’t taken. Anja had told Jess she hadn’t wanted to see her brother on top of it. Then, Jess had believed it was because Anja hadn’t wanted to add to her own stress by seeing the brother who’d hurt her so badly. But now Jess wondered if it wasn’t because Dylan knew Anja well enough to know that there was something on her mind, and Anja would have been forced to tell him about the baby before she was ready.

  Perhaps, if things had been different, Anja would have joined her mom and brother for a happy Christmas, and the inevitable drama of Anja’s return wouldn’t be hanging around their necks like an invisible noose.

  But things weren’t different, and Jess only hoped that the fact that the second transfer had taken—that there was a baby on the way—would make Anja more open to her brother’s return.

  And why is that so important to you? an inner voice chided her.

  ‘Do you have siblings, Jess?’ Dylan asked, interrupting her thoughts.

  ‘No, I don’t.’ She forced a smile. ‘I’m an only child.’

  ‘So you don’t really know how long they can hold a grudge.’

  ‘Maybe not,’ she allowed. ‘But I’ve had one against my parents for a really long time. Does that count?’

  CHAPTER NINE

  ‘WHY?’

  ‘I’ve already told you they’re terrible people.’ She laughed, but it sounded strangled. He watched her hand go to her stomach, fingers spread over the roundness of it as though she was protecting the child she carried from her words. His heart ached. ‘There’s really not much more to it.’

  ‘You keep saying that, but we both know it’s a lie.’ He kept his gaze on her face. ‘You said you haven’t seen them since you moved out.’ She nodded. ‘What happened?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘What happened to make you move out?’ he clarified. ‘You knew they were terrible people long before you moved out, didn’t you?’ Her eyes dropped from his, but she nodded again. ‘So what happened to make you leave?’

  He was suddenly desperate to know. Perhaps because he’d done the same thing two years ago—walked away from his family. But he’d had his reasons. His father’s death had caused memories he’d ignored for years to resurface. Emotions he didn’t want, didn’t understand, had surged inside him.

  And then he’d found out his mother had known his father had been an addict before she’d had children. She hadn’t even tried to deny it when he’d confronted her. All of it had been too much for him to handle—or to keep from Anja—and so he’d left.

  When guilt had nudged him, he’d tried again with his mother. He’d invited her to London, had thought they could work through it. But then, neither of them brought it up. Each day he’d told himself to, but he just...hadn’t been able to. Much like he hadn’t been able to walk over to Anja’s house after he’d first arrived in Cape Town...

  There were reasons he’d left, he thought again. So there must have been a reason Jess had left, too. He told himself he only wanted to know because he’d spilled his guts to her. But at the back of his mind he knew that wasn’t true.

  ‘What happened that made you leave, Jess?’ he asked again, softly this time.

  Her face went tight. ‘There were...a lot of things. A lifetime of things.’

  ‘Did they...hurt you?’

  ‘It takes effort to hurt someone. I was nowhere near that important to them.’

  His eyes took in her expression, her voice, the way her shoulders had suddenly hunched. He put his hand over hers. ‘Why would they have you if they didn’t think you were important?’

  ‘Because my mother fell pregnant unexpectedly.’ She paused. ‘I was an...inconvenience. They didn’t want me, but they didn’t not want me either. At least not enough to do something about it.’

  He stopped himself from apologising. Told himself to just listen.r />
  ‘I wasn’t a part of their plan. They told me that, over and over again, whenever I did something they didn’t approve of. Even when I did,’ she added softly. ‘Remember I told you about my job as a lifeguard?’ He nodded. ‘I applied for it at sixteen so that I could buy my new laptop. And they hated it. It was at my father’s country club, and they told me it made them look poor. And that looking poor wasn’t a part of their plan. That dropping me off every day reminded them of how much it wasn’t a part of their plan.’ She stopped. ‘What they actually meant was that I wasn’t a part of their plan.’

  Dylan wasn’t sure what was worse. His situation, where his mother had willingly had them, knowing what they’d be born into, or Jess’s, where she was made to feel unwanted for most of her life.

  ‘You know what’s funny?’ she interrupted his thoughts. ‘I think my father actually liked the idea of an heir.’ She tilted her head. ‘Until I actually appeared and I was nothing like either of them. I actually cared about people. Heaven only knows where that came from.’

  ‘I guess you taught yourself more than just how to cook,’ he offered quietly.

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ She smiled, and scooped the last piece of her chicken into her mouth. ‘That was wonderful, thanks.’

  ‘Dessert?’ he offered spontaneously, even though he’d stopped midway through his own dinner because of their conversation. Her gaze lowered to his plate and she gave him a pointed look before shaking her head.

  ‘I’ve distracted you.’

  ‘I think we distracted each other.’ He smiled at her. Made a show of eating his food. She smiled back. And his heart flipped in his chest.

  Stop, an inner voice warned, even as another part of him—a stronger part—told him that he’d opened up to her for a reason. Perhaps because there was...more there, between them. Perhaps because he wanted more.

  He swallowed, and began to listen to that inner voice.

  ‘There’s not much more to tell you, you know,’ she said, studying him. He wondered what she saw. ‘When I left university I realised it wasn’t my responsibility to point due north for them any more. They were adults. So was I. And, like mature adults who didn’t agree, we went our separate ways and now live separate lives.’

  ‘They haven’t tried to get in touch with you since?’

  ‘No.’ Sadness tinged her face before it was gone. ‘But then, I haven’t tried to contact them either. You should really finish your food,’ she said, changing the subject ‘It’s delicious, prepared in the kitchen of one of the most revered chefs in Cape Town.’

  She winked but stood, and started clearing her own dishes. Dylan might have thought it rude if it had been any other person at any other time. But he thought he understood why Jess she was doing it. She wanted to get away from him, from his questions. And, since he felt a bit raw himself, he understood.

  So he finished his meal silently, and then cleared up his own dishes before joining her in the kitchen to help tidy their supper mess. The way he and Jess worked in tandem reminded him of how he and Anja had once worked. How it had been them against the world. Against their parents.

  He thought about how he’d left Anja. Asked himself if that made him any better than his father. His stomach rolled with the fear of it, before it lurched with the knowledge that he wasn’t like his father. His father hadn’t needed them, but Dylan needed Anja. He’d discovered that when he’d been away. When he’d been plagued with how much he missed her. With how much he wanted them to be a family again, even just the two of them.

  So he’d come back to try to make that happen...

  But what if she didn’t forgive him? What if he’d hurt her so much that, just like they’d done to their father, Anja turned her back to him?

  The thought absolutely terrified him. Enough that he realised he couldn’t afford to complicate the situation with his feelings for Jess, whatever they were. He couldn’t afford to need Jess. To want her.

  And so he wouldn’t.

  ‘Jess?’

  ‘Yeah?’ She was drying her hands and looked at him, and the homeliness of it sent a shot of something deep and unfamiliar through his body.

  And strengthened his resolve.

  ‘It won’t happen again.’

  ‘What won’t?’

  ‘You know, earlier...’ It was strange, the heat rising up his neck. He’d faced much worse in his professional life—with his family—and yet here he was, embarrassed by a kiss.

  ‘Oh. Oh,’ she said again, her eyes wide. ‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘There’s no hard feelings.’ There was a beat of silence before she said, ‘No, I didn’t mean—’

  ‘I know.’ He cut her off with a slight laugh. ‘Though it’s a hell of a pun.’

  ‘It was, wasn’t it?’ she said, chagrined. An unspoken attraction slithered over them as their eyes met again, and then she shook her head and stepped back, as if somehow it would kill it. ‘Thank you for letting me stay here. I’ll be out as soon as everything is fixed next door.’

  ‘You can stay as long as you like.’

  He didn’t bother clarifying the implication, and she nodded and ducked her head.

  But not before he saw a pretty red colour stain her cheeks.

  She murmured goodnight, and left the room. Long after she had, Dylan stood in the kitchen, Daisy by his side, staring after Jess.

  * * *

  The next day passed in a blur of busyness.

  The ceiling company had told them they would have to plaster certain sections and then repaint the entire ceiling. The good news was that they’d be able to do it all on the same day, so most of Jess’s time was spent walking back and forth between Anja’s and Dylan’s houses, making sure the guys had everything they needed and checking on their progress.

  She arranged for cleaners to come in the next day to make sure the house was one hundred per cent before she moved back in, and told herself it wasn’t an excuse to spend more time with Dylan. She was happy about the busyness. It meant she didn’t have to think about the attraction that had sunk its fangs into her the day before and wouldn’t let go, no matter how much she wanted them to.

  It also meant she didn’t have to think about why she’d opened up to Dylan about her family. Sure, she hadn’t told him everything, but she’d told him enough to make her uncomfortable. Or did she feel uncomfortable because he seemed to understand what she was telling him? That what he’d shared with her told her that he understood more than she even gave him credit for?

  Unable to find answers for those questions, Jess stayed out of Dylan’s way as much as she could. She answered queries about when Anja’s next class would be, posted another reminder of Anja’s absence on the yoga studio’s social media. After a brief hesitation, she sent Anja an update on the house, and then thought it might be nice to send a picture of her baby bump as well.

  It had only been two weeks since Anja had left, but Jess’s belly had grown during that time and perhaps the reminder of her child would help Anja deal with her feelings about other members of her family.

  She was trying to take the picture herself when Dylan walked in.

  ‘I’m clearly interrupting something?’

  ‘I’m just trying to—’ She stopped the automatic answer before she told him the truth, and then gave him a smile. ‘I want to take a picture of the bump for the mother and father.’

  His eyebrows rose but he only said, ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Yeah, please.’

  She handed him the phone and a few seconds later she had it back with the pictures. She sent them to her laptop before shutting it. Things had suddenly become awkward and she didn’t want to send the email with Dylan hovering around. It had guilt nudging her, and she realised how little she liked keeping this secret from him. But she couldn’t tell him. She wouldn’t. She had to think about Anja, and not whatever it was that had her th
inking about Dylan.

  ‘Why are you taking pictures of your stomach?’ Dylan asked into the silence. ‘Don’t you see the parents? Your friends?’

  Careful, she warned herself. ‘Yes, but they’re away at the moment, so I thought it might be nice to take a picture to send them.’

  ‘How long have they been away?’

  ‘Not too long. And they’ll be back soon, too,’ she added, anticipating his next question. ‘They’re good people, Dylan. This isn’t the kind of situation that belongs in a documentary.’

  She’d meant for it to be a joke, but he didn’t laugh. After a while he said, ‘I’m not judging your choice, Jess. Honestly, I’m not. I just can’t help but wonder what happens to you after you give birth to this child.’

  ‘I move on with my life,’ she replied simply, though the question sent discomfort through her. ‘It’s a part of the agreement, when you do something like this.’

  Though it wouldn’t be for her, she thought. Not entirely. Because she’d still see the child every day when she went to work. She’d help Anja with the baby while Anja was on maternity leave, and then go back to her normal administrative duties.

  That was her plan, at least. She’d taken Anja’s PA job because it had seemed like the perfect opportunity to get away from her family, from their legacy. To create her own legacy. And while she enjoyed the organisational challenge of being a PA, it wasn’t the only thing she was capable of.

  She had a degree in finance. A choice that had been made when she’d still had hope her father would hire her after she’d graduated. She would be able to take over the family business one day, and finally be a part of the Steyn family. A real part. A wanted part. Except her father had no intention of including her, and that had been the straw that had broken the camel’s back.

  She told herself to snap out of thoughts of the past, but the present wasn’t any better. Dylan’s question had reminded her of a thought she’d shoved down a long time ago. That maybe it would be better if she didn’t have to see the child she’d carried day after day. She didn’t regret her decision, or think that she’d long for the child to be her own. She knew what she’d signed up for.