The Teacher's Billionaire

by Christina Tetreault

  ***

  Three days had passed since Dylan jumped on the family’s private jet and headed back to New York City. During those three days, he’d thought of not only Callie but also his damn agreement with Phillips. If he’d honestly felt Callie was any kind of threat, he wouldn’t feel at all uncomfortable with keeping an eye on her or, better yet, having someone do it. However, despite his mother’s insistence that she be watched, he didn’t feel it was necessary.

  Nevertheless, late Wednesday afternoon, Dylan found himself in front of her apartment door again. Earlier that morning, he’d flown into Boston. After a long and tedious business meeting, he’d checked into his hotel suite before driving to Slatersville.

  Running his excuse for being there through his head one more time, Dylan knocked on the door. Immediately, he heard barking followed by Callie’s voice telling the dog to calm down.

  As usual, she pulled the door open without asking who it was first. “Oh! Hey,” Callie greeted, her eyes wide. “Come on in.” She pushed open the screen door and took a step backward.

  “I hope this isn’t a bad time.” He followed her into the kitchen. Today, all kinds of papers and a laptop computer covered the table.

  Reaching for some papers, she quickly started to stack things up. “No, no. I was just about done with this.”

  Dylan watched as she started to open her mouth to speak again, but then stopped and chewed her bottom lip instead. Automatically, he envisioned himself nibbling on her lips.

  Back to reality. Stay focused. This is Warren’s daughter.

  “I have some business meetings in Boston this week. Today’s ended a little early, so I thought I would stop in and see you,” he said, using the story he’d settled on earlier, a story that wasn’t complete a lie. Since he’d known he was coming to the area to check up on her, he had his executive assistant reschedule some meetings that he planned to attend in Boston next month to this week.

  “Sunday, I had to leave suddenly, and I didn’t get a chance to see how things were going for you.” While it had sounded like a plausible excuse in his mind, now that he’d spoken it aloud, it sounded weak. Pathetic.

  Callie didn’t immediately respond. Instead, her intense blue eyes held his gaze as if searching for something. Worried that she might learn something he didn’t want to share, he looked away.

  “Good... okay, I guess. A little surreal, but I’m glad I went.”

  Dylan watched as she spoke and continued to remove papers from the table. Although she was trying to appear calm, her rapid movements and haphazard manner gave away her true state.

  “Do you want something to drink? A coffee or some lemonade? Or something to eat? I was just about to start cooking dinner.” The words rapidly tumbled out of her mouth, and she clutched her papers and books tightly against her chest like a shield.

  Am I really making her nervous?

  Though she hadn’t actually asked him to stay, he pulled out one of the colorfully painted chairs and sat down. It felt like the right thing to do. “Whatever you’re having. I was going to see if you wanted to go out, but home cooked is even better.” He’d originally planned to take her somewhere for dinner as an excuse to spend time with her. Staying here would work even better.

  “Let me put this stuff away, and I’ll start cooking.”

  Dylan let his eyes follow her as she walked down to one of two doors off the short hall to what he guessed was her bedroom. Without intending to, he thought how shapely and tanned her legs appeared that afternoon on the beach. Much to his disappointment, today her legs were completely hidden by a loose pair of gray yoga pants.

  Thoughts of their day on the beach brought back memories of how soft her skin had felt when he’d rubbed sunscreen on her back. It had felt like satin under his hands. He wondered if the skin on the rest of her body was just as smooth and soft. Images of him peeling off her clothes to find out overtook him. Immediately, he felt his body respond.

  Don’t. She’s not for you. Untucking his t-shirt to hide the evidence of his arousal, he hoped she didn’t notice the change when she came back. If she did, would she guess what prompted it? Talk about embarrassing. It wasn’t like he was a teenager who’d never been around a beautiful woman before. Hell, he’d dated lingerie models in the past.

  Was this really happening? Was she really going to cook dinner for Dylan? It was just too bizarre. Thankfully, she already planned to make an actual meal tonight. Some nights she just threw together a sandwich for herself. Cooking for one could be a pain in the butt. However, earlier that morning, she’d taken the tomato sauce and meatballs she’d made the week before out of the freezer so she could make lasagna tonight. Lasagna with a side of meatballs was one of her favorite meals, and one that usually lasted for a few nights.

  Setting her papers and laptop down on her bed, she wondered why he was really here. He’d said he was in Boston on business. Callie didn’t doubt that could be true, but Boston wasn’t exactly next-door. It took about forty minutes to get to her apartment from there.

  Don’t look for lies. He has no reason to lie. He’s probably just being a gentleman again and checking to see how I am for Warren. Although, if that was the case, why hadn’t her father just called? Warren had her phone numbers and her email address.

  No matter how she looked at it, Dylan’s sudden visit didn’t make a lot of sense. Could he be interested in her? The sudden crazy thought popped into her head. It would explain his unexpected visit. Was it possible?

  “In your dreams maybe,” Callie whispered to herself. Now, go back out there, cook dinner, and enjoy another few hours in Dylan’s company. Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled. Just pretend you’re cooking for you and Lauren.

  “What can I help with?” he asked when she returned.

  “Do you know how to cook?” Callie immediately regretted asking the question. At least to her ears it sounded crass. It didn’t seem to faze Dylan though. He just shrugged and gave her a boyish smile that made him look more like a college student rather than the CEO of a major corporation.

  “Only a little,” he acknowledged. “Basic stuff. Enough to survive without either eating out or getting takeout every night.”

  She didn’t need any help. She could throw together lasagna in her sleep. However, if he had something to do, then maybe he wouldn’t focus on her. Since his arrival, her body had been on high alert, and having him just sitting there watching wouldn’t help.

  “Umm, there is some stuff in the refrigerator for a salad.” Normally, Callie didn’t have anything but the meatballs with her lasagna. She didn’t need to. If it kept him busy, she was all for a salad tonight.

  “Even I can handle that,” he said in his English accent which she loved. She could sit and listen to it all day in fact.

  Did the kitchen shrink or has it always been this small? It seemed like every time she moved, she bumped into Dylan. He’d gathered the vegetables from the refrigerator and spread them out farther down the counter. Pausing in her own preparations, she watched him struggle to peel a cucumber. In addition to removing the skin, he was hacking the vegetable to death.

  “You can leave the skin on, you know.” She reached for more pasta, so she could start another layer of the lasagna.

  Pausing, he looked over at her. “I hate the skin. Can’t eat cucumbers if they have skin on them.”

  “Do you want some help then? By the time you get done, there isn’t going to be anything left to eat.”

  His hand was warm when he handed her the cucumber. The brief contact brought back memories of the brotherly kiss he’d given her. Though it had been innocent, she felt herself blushing.

  “It’s all yours,” he said, starting to cut up a tomato.

  Placing a steaming pan on the table, Callie went back to the counter and grabbed the meatballs. “It’s not a five-star meal, but I hope it is okay. Sorry I don’t have any wine to go with it. I’ve been meaning to pick some up, but haven’t gotten around to it.” C
allie knew she was a fairly good cook, but compared to the meals Dylan usually ate, she feared something would be lacking.

  “It smells great,” Dylan assured her, pulling out a chair for her.

  Just as surprised tonight as she had been the first time he did it, Callie sat without replying. Having anyone pull a chair out for her was such a foreign event; she didn’t know what to make of it. Leaning back, her bare shoulder brushed against his hand and tiny jolts of electricity danced across her skin. Moving away from him, she asked the first thing that came to mind. “Are you in Boston for long?”

  “Don’t know for sure,” he replied, picking up the salad bowl and offering it to her first. “It’ll depend on how things go. Might only be a couple of days.”

  Accepting the bowl, Callie was careful not to let her skin come in contact with his again. Her nerve endings just couldn’t handle it. Another reaction like the one she just had and she might short out some of the synapses in her brain.

  Neither said anything else for several minutes as they focused on their meal.

  “Warren mentioned you might visit his ranch this summer,” Dylan said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Have you ever been to Texas?”

  “No, the only places outside of New England I’ve been to are New York for a field trip and Florida.” She hated admitting that to someone like Dylan who’d traveled the world, but there was no point in lying.

  Dylan helped himself to more salad. “I think you’ll like it. Warren is glad you’re thinking about visiting.”

  Callie shrugged. She didn’t have the heart to tell him she wasn’t sure she would ever make the trip.

  “I’m glad your visit went well last weekend. What did you end up doing with your dog while you were gone?”

  It seemed like an odd question. Why did he care what she’d done with Lucky? Perhaps he was just making conversation. “My friend, Lauren, came by to feed and walk him. He hates being boarded at a kennel.” Without elaborating further, she continued eating.

  “Did she know why you were going away?” Dylan stopped eating. “Does she know Warren’s your father?”

  “Yeah. Lauren’s like a sister to me. There isn’t much we keep from each other.” For the first time, Callie noticed Dylan had stopped eating. “Everything taste okay? You’re not eating anymore.”

  “Delicious. Just going to get more lemonade. Do you want more?” he replied, pushing back his chair. Dylan didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, he refilled her glass. “Have you told anyone else?”

  Callie shook her head. “No. Just Lauren. I’m not sure I’m ready for all my friends to know.” For a brief second, Callie thought she saw a look of relief pass across Dylan’s face. I’m imaging things again.

  Dylan sat back down. “That makes sense. No need to rush things.” With that comment, Dylan changed the subject entirely by asking her about her students and what they were learning.

  With the simple switch in topics, she was again able to forget who Dylan actually was. Instead of seeing the rich, powerful CEO on the other side of the table, she saw someone she liked spending time with, and who seemed to like spending time with her. Someone who, under normal circumstances, she could see having a relationship with.

  Stop. Right. There. We’re from two different worlds. He dates A-listers who shop on 5th Avenue and Rodeo Drive, not schoolteacher’s who shop at the local mall.

  Thanks to her mind’s jolt back to the real world, Callie felt the need to put some extra distance between Dylan and herself. So even though she wasn’t finished eating, Callie stood. “Keep eating. I’m just going to start cleaning up this mess.” Turning to face the counter, she busied herself with putting things away and wiping down the already clean counter.

  “Why don’t you let me do that?”

  Callie froze in place. She hadn’t heard him get up. Yet Dylan now stood directly behind her, close enough that she could feel his breath on the back of her neck. Without waiting for a reply, he removed the parsley from her hand and placed it on the shelf she’d been struggling to reach.

  Slowly, she dropped her arm back down and turned around, expecting Dylan to step back. He didn’t move. Rather, he reached out and brushed a stray piece of hair off her face.

  As if on autopilot, Callie closed her eyes as his fingers skimmed down her cheek and neck to her shoulder. With the weight of his hand resting on her shoulder, she waited, not sure what to expect. And then she felt just the slightest bit of pressure as his lips settled over hers. Everything seemed to stop. The only things she was aware of were his hand on her shoulder and his lips on hers. The kiss was gentle. Tender.

  This shouldn’t be happening. Not with this man.

  Even as her brain protested, Callie’s body responded. She wanted his hard-muscled body pressed up against hers. Even though she knew she should break contact, she took a step closer and rested her hands on his wide shoulders.

  Kissing hadn’t been on his agenda for the evening. Not that he hadn’t been thinking about it since he’d walked in, but he kept telling himself to ignore the urge. He’d been doing a damn good job of it too until she turned around. Then, something in him just snapped. He’d felt as if he’d go crazy if he didn’t taste her here and now.

  Just once. I’ll stop after that, he promised himself, keeping the kiss light.

  His mind told him to pull back, put some space between them, and he had every intention of doing just that when Callie’s hands tentatively settled on his shoulders.

  Putting his arms around her waist, Dylan gently tugged her up against his body. Deepening their kiss, he teased her lips with his tongue until she opened for him.

  For him, the outside world faded away. The only things he was aware of were the sweet taste of lemonade that lingered on her lips and the feel of her body next to his. Slowly, he moved his hand up her slender body and buried his hands in her silky dark hair.

  The rumble of thunder and sudden flash of light yanked Dylan back to reality. Pulling back, he dropped his hands to her shoulders and tried to get himself back under control. His heart pounded, his breathing was heavy, and his body yelled for release.

  Jesus, what the hell just happened?

  He’d kissed plenty of women, desired plenty too. Yet he’d never felt quite like this before, like he’d just run a marathon. And it had only been a kiss.

  Say something.

  Usually so charming with women, Dylan found himself at a loss for words.

  Anything, Talbot. Don’t just stand here.

  She wasn’t looking at him, but rather studying a spot just over his left shoulder. Her lips were red from his kiss, a light pink blush crept all the way down her neck, and her hair was starting to fall free from its customary ponytail. At that moment, Dylan thought she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.

  Outside, he heard the rain pelting against the windows and the older glass rattled under the assault. It was the only sound in the too quiet room.

  “I’m...” Dylan began, but stopped. Apologizing didn’t seem right. He wasn’t sorry he’d kissed her. At least not sorry in the way she might take it. It had been an incredible kiss, but it could also complicate an already complicated situation.

  “Are you okay?” he asked instead.

  Chewing on her bottom lip, something he noticed she did when nervous, Callie nodded. “Don’t you know I always make out with guys in my kitchen after I feed them?”

  While she answered him with a straight face, he knew she was joking to make light of the situation. During their outing in Newport, he’d seen evidence of a very dry and quirky sense of humor.

  “Maybe I should start coming over for dinner more often then.” He meant the response to be more easygoing banter to lighten the atmosphere. Unfortunately, it didn’t come out that way. Instead of laughing and coming up with a great comeback as he expected, she pulled away from him and resumed cleaning the counter.

  Afraid he would make matters worse, Dylan remained silent as he helped her finish cleaning
off the table and load the dishwasher.

  Now what? He couldn’t leave after that. Somehow he needed to smooth things over. Make things comfortable between them again if he planned on holding up his end of the bargain with Phillips. How though? He didn’t have a clue. Dylan was out of his element where this woman was concerned. She was so different from the women he usually spent time with. Throw in the fact that she was Warren’s daughter and, hell, he was drowning.

  “Dinner was delicious. Thank you.” His mind worked a mile a minute trying to figure out the right thing to say. “If it’s okay, I’d like to do it again sometime.” Both the dinner and the kiss he thought. He continued on before she could respond. “Would it be okay if I call you this week?”

  Callie didn’t answer at first, and Dylan wondered what was going through her mind. He could almost see the wheels turning. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she gave him a tentative smile. “Umm. Sure. If you want. I’ll be around. No place to be except work.”

  Her response pleased him. A lot. More than it should have. Time to make your exit, Talbot. Before you do something stupid. Like kiss her again.

  “Good. I’ll talk to you soon then.”