The Billionaire's Secrets

by Meadow Taylor

  "Oh, I see," she said. "You're afraid I'm going to throw myself at you. That's why you wanted an older woman. You think just because you're rich and attractive…" She stopped short on the word attractive, and Gaelan felt something akin to pleasure that she found him good-looking. But wasn't this exactly what he wanted to avoid? He was getting confused.

  "You think," she repeated, "that just because you're rich, I'm going to throw myself at you…I never…" Gaelan watched her stamp her foot with indignation. He had never heard of anyone doing that outside of a story book. Rumpelstiltskin, wasn't it? Only Rumpelstiltskin wasn't as cute as Chloe. He found it rather amusing. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said sardonically. "And you did call me attractive."

  "It's a figure of speech and nothing more," she said angrily.

  "A figure of speech," he said slowly. Gaelan may have been out of practice with women lately, but he was pretty sure he had read the signs correctly. The attraction was there, and although he had no intention of getting involved with this beautiful woman, it certainly couldn't hurt to just have a little taste. After all, that's what she'd come for, wasn't it? Certainly it would prove his theory right or wrong much more quickly than all this talking, he decided, justifying himself and what he was about to do. "I think we'd better test your figure-of-speech theory," he said in a low voice.

  He closed the space between them and took her roughly in his arms. The feel of her was astonishing, the skin of her arms warm and soft. He slid his hand around her back, up to the bare skin on her neck, under her thick soft hair. He bent his head down to hers, seeing his desire reflected in her own green eyes. He was right, but he didn’t care anymore. Her lips parted as he took her mouth with his. Electricity shot through every nerve ending in his body, filling him with a heart-stopping white heat. It was exhilarating - he couldn't ever remember feeling this before - that the touch of a woman's lips could feel so glorious. He pulled her closer, crushing her breasts against his chest, his tongue greedily seeking hers.

  God, he thought, don't let this stop, I don't care if this woman was sent by the devil himself. I want her! All those years of celibacy and denial - this was what he'd been missing! One hand still tangled in her hair, he let his other hand slide down her back to the delicious curve of her buttocks.

  Did all this happen in a moment? He didn't know. He didn't care. And so when she shoved her hands against his chest and ripped herself out of his grasp, he didn't know if he'd been kissing her for a minute or an hour. Nor did he know why she had pushed him away; he had felt her mouth hot on his, her lips full and moist. And when her hand flew up and struck him across the cheek, he was more than just a little surprised.

  "What the hell was that for?" he said angrily, his cheek stinging where she had hit him. She had quite the arm on her.

  "You have to ask?" She fairly hurled the words at him. Her hair looked wild from where he had tangled his fingers in it, her face was flushed, and her eyes burned. "Of all the arrogant, mean tricks…" She hesitated as if she couldn't find words bad enough to describe him.

  "Calm down," he said, his voice thick with frustrated desire. "It's not like you weren't enjoying it."

  "You bastard!" She almost spat the words at him. "I hope you're happy now, because I quit!"

  Gaelan stepped out of her reach as she stomped past him toward the door - he wouldn’t put it past her to take another swing at him. She opened the door, and Gaelan was sure she was about to leave when she whirled around and faced him again. If looks can kill, he thought, I think I'm a dead man.

  "One more thing, Gaelan Byrne," she said in a low voice that shook with emotion. "That's a lovely little girl you have, and you are a disgraceful father!"

  And as there was nothing he could say in his own defence, he turned away as she left without closing the door behind her.

  * * *

  Chloe ran through the hall and practically stumbled up the stairway. At the top she hesitated, wondering in her distress if her room was down the hall to her left or right. She forced herself to stop and think before taking the hall to the left. She got to her room and closed the door gratefully behind her.

  The lamp beside her bed cast a soft glow over the room. A few embers still survived from the fire that Windy had laid. Chloe went over to it and with a shaking hand stirred them into life with the poker. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Her hair was dishevelled and her lipstick smudged. She grabbed a tissue from the box on the bedside table and impatiently rubbed the rest of the lipstick from her lips. She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it down, the memory of his fingers entangled in it fresh and hot in her mind. But there was nothing she could do to take the wild look out of her eyes, remove the flush from her cheeks, or stop her heart from pounding.

  She took a couple of logs from the basket in the corner and placed them on the fire before throwing herself onto the love seat. What had just happened? One moment she had been defending her job and the next she had been in his arms.

  Why had he done that to her? He seemed so sure she was there to wheedle her way into his bed and fortune. You wouldn't be the first to try, he'd said to her. Had he hired someone before who had attempted? That would explain his reluctance to hire someone else young. Had he kissed her to test her? If he did, she had failed the test. She had hit him alright, but not before she had returned his kisses with a passion that had matched his own.

  Really, if it hadn't been for a voice screaming in her head that she was being made a fool of, she would have let it go on forever. Even then it was all she could do to pull herself away and salvage her pride with a slap across the face. And she'd hit him pretty hard, she thought, a slight smile forming at the corner of her lips.

  What would have happened if she hadn't slapped him? Would he have eventually pulled away and said I told you so? Or would he have taken her to bed to have his fun and tossed her out in the morning? Somehow she guessed it was the latter. Surely he hadn't been faking that lust. She remembered his body as he crushed her against himself. No, she blushed, he most definitely had not been faking.

  She couldn't believe she had reacted the way she had. Yes, she found him attractive. Who wouldn't? He was tall, dark, and handsome incarnate. But he was also arrogant and patronizing. For heaven's sake, he was downright cruel to her. The list of reasons for her to hate him was pretty long for only knowing him a few hours. First, he didn’t pick her up at the airport. She was sure she had the date right. Then he almost ran over her with his car and didn’t offer to drive her the rest of the way to the house. Then he told her she was fired.

  At one point she was sure he knew the boarding academy had fired her. Why aren’t you teaching at a school? he’d asked. And she’d lied to him. She didn’t apply for this job because she wanted a change; she’d applied because she’d been forced by circumstances. It didn’t mean she didn’t want the job or that she couldn’t do it, but in the back of her head she knew he had a right to know. She sensed he knew she was covering something up, and maybe that was enough to hurt her case. Not that it mattered anymore. She’d quit, and this time tomorrow she’d be knocking on her parents' door on Cape Cod, asking if she could sleep in the guest room.

  However, even if he had learned she’d been let go from the academy, he had no right to speak to her the way he had. But then what could she expect from someone who could treat his own child with such coldness? In her years as a teacher she had seen parents who were not necessarily good parents, but never had she known someone who had seemed to downright dislike his own child. He didn’t even bother to hide it. Imagine telling her to call him Gaelan instead of Daddy!

  And yet after all that, she found herself in his arms kissing him like she'd never kissed anyone before. She’d never kissed Shawn that way - not even when she’d thought she loved him. It was just never that way. Actually, looking back, it was hard to remember why they ever got together in the first place. They both loved the outdoors, white water rafting, and camping, but the moment they wen
t indoors, they had nothing in common. Well, they both taught, but Shawn treated it as a job whereas for Chloe it was a calling. And Shawn hadn’t even wanted children. How was it she hadn’t figured that out earlier?

  And as for sex, well, she sure didn’t remember getting this excited. Just thinking about Gaelan’s kisses sent blood coursing through her veins. She had only known him for a few hours, and yet she knew he would torment her dreams. She only had to close her eyes to see his dark eyes. Eyes so cold one moment and so full of heat and passion the next. It would be the heat and passion she would remember - the mere memory of which would make her stop breathing and cause her heart to skip a beat. A new longing had taken root in the very centre of her being - and she had this awful feeling it was there to stay for a very long time.

  She sighed, got up from the couch, and walked around the room, trying to dispel the image of Gaelan Byrne and his haunting eyes. Maybe she should go look for him, throw herself on his mercy, beg him to let her stay, plead with him to kiss her again and again and again...

  But she knew she wouldn’t. She had more pride than that, not to mention a strong sense of reality. Even if she begged to stay, could she live with him outside the bedroom? Could she bear to see him be cruel to his daughter? Could she stand it if he were cruel to her? Which was the way it would be. Gaelan had already proved he had few feelings to spare. Sexual maybe, but not emotional.

  How had he been with his wife? Was he passionate with her? Did he love her so much that when she died something died inside him too? Did he love his daughter then too but now could not bear how she reminded him of his wife? She would never know the answers, because in a few hours she would be gone. She would never see him again.

  There was a cautious knock on her door. Chloe stopped her pacing so suddenly she had to grab the back of a chair to keep from falling. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her voice caught in her throat. He had come to look for her! Had he been pacing around his room too, unable to get her out of his mind? She tried to call out - she wanted to tell him to come in. Pride and common sense be damned! She wanted him and she wanted him now - she didn’t care if she regretted it the rest of her life. She couldn’t leave here without again feeling his mouth on hers. She longed to tangle her fingers in his thick hair. She wanted to undress him, pull him down onto the bed with her, feel his body beside her...

  The door opened a crack, and she took a small step toward it, ready to sell her soul to the man behind it if only for one night of happiness.

  “It’s me, Windy, are you still awake?” It was the housekeeper. Chloe felt her knees almost buckle under her. She found her voice, a small squeak, all she could manage.

  The door opened all the way, and Windy came in carrying a tray with a steaming mug and a bottle of brandy beside it. There was a small covered dish as well. “I heard you pacing in here and decided to bring something from the kitchen to calm you.” She placed the tray on a small table at the end of the couch. “It’s hot milk and honey. Add a dash of brandy, and I promise you’ll sleep like a baby.” Windy smiled at her, a comforting sympathetic smile like a mother might give a child. She was wearing a long quilted flannel housecoat in a large floral pattern of pink roses, and for a moment Chloe was reminded of her own mother.

  She smiled back weakly and thanked Windy for the tray. “I think I’ll add more than a dash of brandy," she said as she poured a generous amount into the milk. She took a sip and agreed that it was indeed soothing.

  “I don’t mean to pry,” Windy said gently. “But I have a feeling your interview with Gaelan didn't go so well.”

  Afraid of letting her emotions show, Chloe went to the fire and stirred it with the poker. Even then it was hard to control her voice. “I’m leaving in the morning,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

  “I know, Gaelan told me. I told him he was making a mistake, but I’m afraid he doesn’t listen to me.”

  “Does he listen to anyone?” Chloe asked bitterly, giving the fire a vicious poke.

  “No, I’m afraid not. He's as stubborn as a mule on Sunday.”

  Chloe replaced the fire screen and turned to face Windy. “Thank you for being so kind. I wish I could stay and help look after Sophia. I think you’re the only person she has.”

  Windy shook her head sadly. “I know,” she said. “The poor little thing needs a mother. And a good one, not like her own mother was.”

  Chloe was shocked. “Do you mean even her own mother didn’t love her?”

  Windy looked a little nervous. “I don’t think Colleen loved anyone except herself,” she said in a bitter rush before catching herself. Chloe had the feeling that Windy regretted her words. No doubt she felt she had been indiscreet. “It’s bad luck to speak ill of the dead,” she continued with a finality that implied she would not answer any more questions on the subject.

  “Thank you for the milk and brandy,” Chloe said, wishing that Windy would tell her more.

  “There's some toast as well. I don’t know whether you had a chance to eat dinner tonight.”

  Chloe reflected back over the day. “Except for your cookies, I don’t think I’ve eaten anything since noon.” She managed another weak smile. “I think that’s been the least of my worries. But thanks. I appreciate your thinking about me, and I’ll take the tray down to the kitchen when I’ve finished.”

  Windy dismissed her offer with a wave of her hand. “Don’t bother. I’ll pick it up in the morning.” She opened the door and turned to Chloe one last time. “If it was up to me, you wouldn’t be leaving tomorrow. I haven’t seen Sophia this happy for a long time - and I hate to think how she’ll take your departure. She’s going to be so disappointed.” She shrugged as if there was nothing that could be done. “Goodnight, Chloe.”

  “Goodnight Windy, and thank you again.” The door closed behind the older woman, and Chloe knew it was final. If Windy couldn’t make Gaelan change his mind, then it was over. She lifted the cover off the toast. It looked like good homemade bread, but the thought of eating made Chloe feel nauseous, and she hurriedly replaced the lid. She went back to her pacing, sipping the warm milk and brandy, wondering when the mixture would begin to work its magic and make her sleepy.

  She had been shocked by Windy’s disclosure. Colleen. The name of Gaelan’s wife. She had not imagined Sophia’s mother had also been unloving. Poor child. But Windy had seemed to imply that Colleen hadn’t loved Gaelan either. Was that why he was so bitter? He had married a woman who didn’t love him? She wondered how Colleen had died. An illness? An accident? How had Gaelan felt when she died? She would never know the answers to these questions, especially since she didn’t know the answer to the most important question of all: Had he loved her?

  Her mug empty, she put it back on the tray. The brandy was having its effect, if only to make her a little lightheaded. She went to her suitcase and dug out a long nightgown. She had brought two: a flannel one for warmth and a black lacy one that she loved for its luxurious feel. It was the only thing she owned in pure silk, and it always made her feel sexy and exotic. She decided that tonight she needed the reassurance that she was attractive and desirable. She took off her black dress and folded it neatly before putting it into her suitcase. Then she stripped off the rest of her clothes and let the nightgown slide down over her body.

  She looked at herself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bedroom door. Her eyes were no longer looked flushed and bright, only sad and tired. But she did look good in the negligée, her skin creamy and pale in contrast to its dark sheen. The tops of her breasts were visible over the lace, nipples outlined in black silk. It clung to the narrowness of her waist and flowed over her hips to the floor. She imaged Gaelan’s eyes on her and felt a heat surge through her body. She went to the bed and pulled down the covers, ready to get in and face a night of insomnia punctuated by restless dreams when she remembered Sophia.

  She had promised to say goodnight to Sophia, and although the girl was probably long asleep, it was
a promise she would keep. It was the very least she could do for her - she refused to be added to the list of people who had let Sophia down. She pulled the matching silk robe out of her suitcase and slipped it over her shoulders before going down the hall to Sophia’s room.

  The door was open a crack. A bedside lamp was on, illuminating the girl's face, angelic in sleep as children always are. Chloe opened the door wider and slipped inside. The girl’s blond curls fanned out around her face, and Chloe thought the only thing missing was a luminescent halo. Funny that her hair was so blond given how dark Gaelan’s was. Perhaps her mother had been blond. It was one more mystery that Chloe would never know the answer to.