NOAH: AN ANDERSON BILLIONAIRES NOVEL

by Anne, Melody

  She flinched as he finished speaking. Her tears were so much closer to the surface, but she refused to allow them to fall. There was no way. She also didn’t have anything else to add to his words. They could keep on throwing things at each other, or they could walk away before something was said that couldn’t be taken back.

  She chose to walk away.

  He chose not to stop her.

  She left the cave without looking back and focused on the crashing waves as she drew farther and farther away from him. She didn’t stop moving. She was afraid if she did, she would run back to him, beg him to forgive her foolishness.

  He might be right about her—about them. She might need him more than anyone she’d ever needed before. She might be damning both of them by continuing to deny what was right in front of her.

  Still, she kept on walking. She didn’t know how to do anything else. She didn’t know what would come next. So all she could do was put one foot in front of the other, and maybe a new day would bring the answers she so desperately needed.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Noah sat in his truck and blared the music as loudly as it would play. He might not have any eardrums left when it was over, but that was a risk he was willing to take. With the mood he was in, it was probably safer for everyone for him to risk hearing loss rather than be around actual humans.

  This train of thought led him to many, many questions on life and all that entailed. But one stood out above the rest.

  Why in the hell did people choose to fall in love?

  People actually sought it out. He was utterly perplexed by this fact. There were dating sites that individuals actually signed up for, put their pictures on, and listed things about themselves on to try to attract another individual.

  It made no sense to him. None at all.

  Not only that, but the flower market made a killing off of love and romance. Mostly men, but some women, too, bought flowers for their lovers to tell them how much they loved them or to say they were sorry or to celebrate a special occasion or even for the simple reason of letting them know they were thinking about them.

  There were cards and trinkets, lingerie and poetry, sexy games and chocolate, and on and on and on, and he didn’t even want to think about the wedding industry. All of these things were geared toward love and romance. He could understand the sex part of it all. That made sense to him. He couldn’t understand the love part.

  Why would anyone put themselves in a situation where they were vulnerable, where they were dependent on another person for their own happiness? From what he had witnessed, all of that led to nothing but pain and frustration.

  In his own defense, he hadn’t been looking for love. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with it. For that matter he hadn’t really believed much in it at all. It wasn’t as if he’d had a shining example in his parents to go by. He’d been more than content to roll around many, many, many different beds, feel the varying textures of multicolored sheets, and then happily walk away the next day, fully satisfied. He hadn’t even had to remember the girls’ names.

  But then Sarah had blown into his life like a freaking summer storm, and he hadn’t been able to shake her. She consumed his thoughts, his emotions, his feelings. She had him begging her to be with him like some pathetic teenager who didn’t know the first thing about heartbreak, and she had him so frustrated he wasn’t fit company for anyone.

  He hadn’t been seeking love, but somehow he’d found himself in a situation where it was utterly consuming him. It was all he thought about. He wanted this woman, and he didn’t want to want her. He seriously didn’t want to need her. He wanted to run in the opposite direction of her, but he couldn’t make himself do that.

  So that all led him back to his original thought of why in the hell would anyone seek out love? He didn’t get it. If someone was just minding their own business and love slapped them in the forehead, there wasn’t a lot they could do about it.

  He finally understood why people sought enlightenment in the far reaches of the world. If a person was completely on their own, then they weren’t going to be in the range of Cupid’s damn poisonous arrow. Love made a lot of money around the world, and it was all a bunch of hogwash.

  Yeah, when things were great, that love spell worked out mighty fine. But when things weren’t so great, it caused unbearable pain. He’d heard the saying that it was better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. He was disagreeing with that in a big way. As a matter of fact, he was in the mood to call some of those damn radio advice stations and give them a piece of his mind.

  It was much better to not have a damn clue about love and the consequences of loving someone. He’d be much more content right now if he’d never met Sarah and her constantly changing mind. He could’ve been dating Betsy or Barbie or Jane Doe, having a nice night, and then skipping to his truck in the morning.

  But no! He didn’t get to do that because he was in love with a woman—or thought he might be in love with a woman—who was consuming him to the point of madness. He’d tried convincing himself it was nothing more than hormones, but it had been two days since she’d walked away from him on the beach, and it wasn’t sex he was thinking about.

  No, it wasn’t sex at all. It was her. He wanted to see her smile, hear her laughter, and feel her touch. Yes, she made him harder and hotter than any other woman before could’ve even dreamed of making him. But it was so much more than that.

  He could describe her beauty and the way she moved down to the minutest detail. He could pick her voice out of a recording of one hundred thousand people. And he could know her touch even if that same mob were all laying their hands on him.

  It was more than sex. It was passion and understanding, and it was love and sacrifice. He was willing to give her anything she needed. But what she wanted was time and space. That was something he was having a hell of a time conceding to her.

  If a day went by without her at his side, he felt lost. But he still didn’t know what all of this meant. He still didn’t know how to proceed. Maybe he should go back to one of the things he’d said to her and just kidnap her. If he had her trapped in a room with him for a week straight, he was sure they could come to a mutual understanding.

  That thought was very appealing.

  A knock on his truck window startled him so badly he jumped in his seat and smashed his head against the roof of his truck. With a wince and a glare, he turned to see Joseph Anderson staring in at him.

  Dammit!

  This so wasn’t what he needed right now. He was too messed up to keep it all to himself, and the last person on the planet he wanted to tell his woes to was his uncle Joseph.

  Joseph didn’t budge when he hesitated to roll his window down. Noah let out a sigh, knowing he wasn’t left with much choice but to comply. Finally, he turned down his music, ignored the buzz in his ear, and pushed the button to roll down the window.

  “I thought I saw your truck up here. What are you doing? I could hear the music a mile down the road,” Joseph said as his knowing gaze bored into Noah.

  “I just needed a place to think,” Noah replied, trying to keep his voice light. He couldn’t hear properly, but he was pretty certain he’d failed.

  “Mm-hmm,” Joseph murmured, and Noah had the urge to smash his fist through the front window of his beautiful truck. “I see.”

  “What do you see?” Noah snapped. Nope. He wasn’t doing well at all at keeping calm and composed.

  “Got women trouble?” Joseph said with a chuckle. “I can spot that look on a man’s face twenty miles away.”

  “I have zero women troubles,” Noah said with a low growl.

  “We can do this the hard way or the easy way,” Joseph said with an almost-taunting smile.

  “Has anyone ever told you to mind your own business?” Noah snapped. He waited for the man’s wrath. He got laughter instead.

  “I can’t recall anyone ever being that bold,” Joseph said. “I’d ignore it, anywa
y,” he added with a shrug. The world was truly Joseph’s oyster, and he could do whatever the hell he wanted. Noah wondered what it would be like to live a life like his.

  “Well, I don’t want to talk about it,” Noah told him.

  “I might be able to help. You never know. I have been around the block a time or two,” Joseph said. He leaned against the window and looked like he wasn’t going anywhere for a very, very long time.

  Noah chewed on his last words for several moments. He had a feeling he wasn’t getting out of there until he gave the big man something. Why had he chosen a hill so close to Joseph’s place to have his pity party? Was he seeking punishment?

  “I just can’t seem to see eye to eye with Sarah. It’s not a big deal, and it won’t affect our work,” Noah said with a grumble.

  Joseph surprised him again when he laughed.

  “Son, you will never see eye to eye with a woman. They always have the upper hand. The minute you learn that valuable lesson in life will be the time you find peace.”

  “Why would you say that?” Noah asked. Joseph wasn’t helping at all. Not that he’d expected him to.

  “Why is Sarah frustrating you?” Joseph asked, ignoring Noah’s question.

  He sighed. “Because we have something, and she is trying to act like we don’t.” Maybe a bit of honesty would end this conversation a lot sooner.

  Joseph looked as if he was thinking for a moment, so Noah sat there quietly, though it wasn’t easy for him to do in his current frame of mind. Finally Joseph spoke again, just when Noah didn’t think he was going to.

  “When you run into a problem in life, what do you normally do?” Joseph asked.

  Now it was Noah’s turn to think for a moment before he spoke.

  “I find a solution,” he finally said.

  “Exactly,” Joseph told him as he reached in and patted his shoulder so hard it sent him forward a little. He was lucky he didn’t get his head slammed into his steering wheel.

  “What does that mean?” Noah asked when Joseph didn’t add more.

  “Don’t let a little roadblock stop you from getting what you want,” Joseph said.

  Noah let out another sigh. “I can’t force the woman to be with me,” he told him.

  “Does she want to be with you?” Joseph asked.

  “I would bet everything I own she does,” Noah said without hesitation.

  “Then make her realize it,” Joseph told him. “I better get home before Katherine sends out a search party. If you still need some advice, come down to the house instead of killing your eardrums.”

  He didn’t give Noah a chance to respond. He just disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived. Noah sat there for the next fifteen minutes considering his uncle’s words. Could it really be that simple?

  He finally smiled for the first time in two days. Yeah. Maybe it was.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Noah let a few more days pass before he decided to put his new plan of action into place. He was missing her like crazy, so he was assuming she’d be missing him just as much, and he needed her to realize she didn’t want to be away from him for his new plan to work.

  The negative to this new plan was that it had put a crimp in their work. They hadn’t been able to go on any new adventures together, and the project was now behind. Maybe no one was upset about it, but Noah was a workaholic, and he knew Sarah was as well. The fact that she hadn’t called him told him she was worried he’d changed his mind and didn’t want her working on the project anymore.

  He wasn’t that guy. Even if they weren’t going to be lovers, he’d never take this away from her. It was too important to her career, and she was doing an amazing job. He just felt they could do that much better as a real team without all the sexual tension. If they just came together—multiple times—their work would greatly improve.

  There was a small part of him that had the feeling to just run away again. He’d get over her if she was out of sight and out of mind. But he couldn’t even stand a few days apart from her. He’d discovered that firsthand.

  So instead of denying how he felt—even to himself—he’d found out where she was, and he was currently pulling up to a small community college. He smiled as he parked in front of the building. This could end up being a lot of fun. He couldn’t deny he had a few fantasies about the teacher’s desk.

  Apparently Sarah didn’t have enough on her plate already, so she was working on her doctorate and teaching a summer course at the college. She might just go further than he’d ever dreamed of going in his career. He couldn’t have been more proud of her for it. Thanks to her friends, he’d found out exactly where she was and what her schedule was.

  He’d arrived early enough to hear her speak. He wanted to see how she was doing without her knowing he was there, and he wanted to see how she interacted with the students. If he’d had a professor as hot as her when he’d been in school, he was sure he wouldn’t have gotten a single thing done. He’d have been too busy mentally stripping the teacher’s clothes away. Hopefully he was a bit more grown up now. But it was doubtable, since he knew exactly how good Sarah looked in the nude.

  It was far too easy to find the classroom Sarah was teaching in, and it was even easier to slip in the back door and slink down into a seat in one of the back rows. He could observe her without her ever being aware he was there.

  Damn! The woman was phenomenal.

  She stood at the head of the class in a pencil skirt and fitted green blouse, wearing a nervous smile that he was sure he was the only one to notice. He knew she wasn’t confident in this position of teaching, but she was giving it her all, and there was no way she’d show her fear to this classroom full of students who’d probably rather be at a lake somewhere than in a stuffy classroom in the middle of summer.

  Of course with her as a teacher, he thought there was no better place to be than right where he was. He might have to reenroll in school. He was so smitten with this woman there wasn’t much he wouldn’t be willing to do to spend time with her.

  She had the class mesmerized as she spoke of the joys of creating something that had never been made before. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and though there were a few students who looked less than thrilled to be sitting in a classroom instead of on a lake, the majority appeared as if they were right where they’d always dreamed of being.

  With Sarah as the teacher, he could fully understand why they felt that way.

  “I bet you all had no idea that architecture was once an Olympic sport,” she said.

  Two kids who had been talking in front of him stopped at her words. She had the entire classroom’s full attention.

  “What? How?” someone asked. She chuckled.

  “In the early decades of the modern Olympic Games, there were one hundred fifty-one medals awarded for such things as music, painting, sculpture, literature, and, of course, architecture. The original founder, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, of the International Olympic Committee, considered art an essential part of the competition. It did have the caveat that every submission had to have a sports theme to it.”

  “That’s amazing,” someone said.

  The class was now wide awake and hanging on her every word. Noah had loved his time in school. Yes, he’d been somewhat restless, as he’d wanted to be out there in the real world experiencing life, not learning about what other people had done with theirs. However, he’d loved learning more about how to bring his craft to utter perfection. Yes, he knew an education was key to that. But he also knew nothing great could come out of sitting and listening. You had to eventually rise and follow through on the thoughts floating around in your brain.

  “Here’s something else that might make you think,” Sarah said with a waggle of her brows. “The supervisor of the original Ouija board company fell to his death from the roof of a factory that he’d said the board told him to build. He made his fortune making and selling the boards—and then lost his life to them.”

  There were a few
chuckles in the class and a few students wearing horrified expressions on their faces. Noah was somewhere in the middle of both and might not admit it, but a shiver ran down his spine. That was just plain creepy.

  She continued speaking, and Noah didn’t realize how much time was passing as he sat mesmerized by this woman he was completely smitten with. He was low in his seat as he watched her talk with animation and intelligence. She had learned quickly how to do her job, and she was as good as she was because she had a true passion for it. The way she spoke clearly told a story of who she was.

  There’d been so many times they’d been together when she’d had her guard up that it was a real treat for him to sit back and get this time to observe her when she was giving fully of herself, holding nothing back.

  “Roman architecture was at its peak during the Pax Romana period, which lasted over two hundred years. Rome was responsible for some of the most influential innovations in architecture that are still used to this day. Can you name some examples of how this influences us now?”

  The class was actively involved in this discussion.

  “They created concrete, didn’t they?” someone said.

  “Yes, very good. They found that it was stronger and easier to use than marble and that they could carve things into it.”

  More questions and answers were asked and answered, and the entire class participated. He was in total awe.

  Noah had thought he’d known this woman pretty well up until this moment, but he was learning that he’d barely begun to scratch the surface. This moment, though, told him he wanted to know so much more about her. Each layer that got peeled back made her that much more appealing to him. He was beginning to realize he wasn’t going to let her go without a serious fight.

  Noah found himself slightly disappointed when the class came to an end. He’d been utterly captivated by Sarah the entire time she’d been lecturing. Probably because she invited so much participation from the class. He’d had to sink lower in his seat so she wouldn’t see him, as she looked out on the audience so much to call on the students. That kept them actively involved and eager to participate. If she wasn’t such a great architect, he’d think she’d be better suited as a college professor. Maybe she could do a bit of both, if that called to her.