The Teacher's Billionaire

by Christina Tetreault

  Chapter 11

  Callie shifted in her seat in an attempt to get comfortable, but it didn’t help no matter what position she moved to. What she really needed was to get off the train and relax.

  Maybe she should have taken a personal day and caught an earlier train. She had considered it. In the end though, she’d dismissed the idea and opted to work her normal hours before heading to South Station in Boston. After all, it was her first day back at the summer camp where she worked over summer break.

  At least the ride was almost over. Penn Station was the last stop. A strange mixture of excitement and apprehension churned in her stomach, making her very happy she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

  Another whole weekend with Dylan. Just the thought made her giddy. Unfortunately, she also had the fundraiser to deal with. For the umpteenth time, she wondered if she’d made the right decision regarding both Dylan and her father.

  Should she be going to this event? Should she really be trying to fit into this alien world of theirs? In many ways, she felt like the proverbial square peg trying to be shoved into a round hole. No matter how much one tried, it just wasn’t going to work. What if that was the case here? Maybe it would be better if she didn’t waste the time and the anxiety.

  Then there was Dylan. She’d gone back and forth all week regarding her decision to stay with him this weekend. Twice she almost told him she changed her mind about getting a hotel room for herself. The weekend before was magnificent. Regardless, she kept wondering if she should end things with him this weekend before she got in any deeper. It might be easier and far less painful to cut ties with him now rather than later.

  The train rolled to a stop. “Penn Station,” a voice boomed over the PA system.

  Too late to go back now. Gathering up her overnight bag and borrowed gown, Callie followed the rest of the passengers down the aisle toward an exit and some much needed space.

  The minute her feet touched the platform, she spotted Dylan walking toward her through the crowd. Momentarily, she stopped breathing at the sight.

  Lauren had it right when she called him an English god, and, at least for now, this god dressed in a charcoal gray suit was hers.

  Don’t get too used to it. The thought brought a frown to her face. Get your act together. You should be happy. Smile.

  Dylan’s own smile wavered slightly as he reached for her. After giving her a quick kiss, he asked, “What’s wrong?” He sounded concerned. “You look as if you just lost your best friend.”

  Letting him take her bag, she forced her lips to form a smile. “Just a little tired.”

  Callie really wasn’t lying; she was tired. She’d barely gotten any sleep the night before thinking about her trip this weekend and then had been up at five thirty to make it to work on time.

  “Why don’t we skip going out for dinner and head straight to my place?” Taking her hand in his, he led her toward the exit. “We can have something delivered. Whatever you feel like eating. You name it, we can find it in the city.”

  She’d only been in New York City once. It’d been a school trip her freshman year of high school. The class arrived late in the morning and spent the whole day visiting museums and shopping. The city was so congested and alive that day. She had wondered if it was always like that even late at night. Judging by the amount of traffic around them and people still on the sidewalks, it was. Obviously the city never slept.

  Callie breathed a tiny sigh of relief when Dylan pulled his Aston Martin into the underground parking lot of his building. Personally, she hated driving in any city, and did it as little as possible. People seemed so much more aggressive there. Yet it hadn’t fazed Dylan in the least.

  “I couldn’t drive in that every day,” she admitted when he opened the car door for her and helped her out.

  Dylan slipped an arm over her shoulders. “You get used to it, but I don’t do it every day. Often I have a car pick me up.”

  He had access to a car that could take him to and from anywhere he wanted, and he still paid to own a car in the city. Man did that seem like a waste. “If it was me, I’d have it pick me up every day. I wouldn’t even bother having a car.” She followed him into the elevator.

  Dylan shrugged. “I like to drive. It’s my alone time. That’s why I drove to see you last weekend instead of flying.”

  A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened and they stepped into a foyer that looked like it came straight from a movie. Several framed canvases hung on the walls and large crystal vases filled with fresh flowers were positioned on either side of the ornate door. Dylan opened the door and allowed her to walk in first. The marble tile from the foyer flowed into the penthouse apartment before ending at two hardwood steps that lead to an open living room filled with black leather furniture and glass tables. To her, it looked as if the room had been decorated straight from some interior-decorating magazine.

  Callie couldn’t imagine living here. Everything was cold and sterile. There was nothing to indicate who lived here. No personal touches. No pictures of family. Yet she didn’t tell Dylan that as he gave her a quick tour. This was his home. She assumed he liked it the way it was. Why else would he decorate it this way?

  “Finally, this is my office. I probably spend more time in here than in any other room.” Dylan pushed another door open.

  She was speechless for a moment. This room looked so unlike the rest of the apartment.

  “I love it,” she told him, stepping inside. “It’s beautiful.” Now this room told her something about the person who lived here.

  Dylan gave her a 100-watt smile. “In the rest of the apartment, I let the designers have free rein, but not in here. I worked on every aspect of decorating this room.” She could hear the pride in his voice.

  Callie wandered over toward the floor to ceiling bookcases. They were filled with everything from the classics to books on science and finance. “It’s an English library.”

  Crossing his arms, he leaned against his massive desk. “I had my grandfather’s office at his country estate in mind when I did this room.”

  She knew his maternal grandfather was an Earl and his father was a Viscount. She guessed the men she saw in the pictures with him were his father and grandfather. There was a definite family resemblance.

  After looking at the pictures on the shelf, Callie walked to look at some on a side table. “We really do look like sisters.” She picked up the picture in the middle. It was an informal shot of Dylan with Warren, Elizabeth, and their children.

  “Our eye and hair color are completely different, but we have the same shape face and nose.” A wave of sadness washed over her. She’d always wanted a sister. Now she had one, and the woman couldn’t stand the sight of her.

  Carefully, she placed the picture back. “Why does she hate me?” Although she’d wanted to ask him before, she’d intentionally avoided the topic. Tonight her curiosity won out though.

  Dylan walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “She doesn’t hate you.”

  “Yeah, right. Did you already forget about my run-in with Sara?”

  He forced her to turn around. “Sara has been burned by people in the past, so she has some trust issues. She’ll come around. Just give her some more time.” After dropping a quick kiss on her frowning lips, he continued, “Now, no more talk about Sara. I can think of many other more enjoyable things we can be doing.”

  Moving slightly, he placed a trail of kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Joy bubbled up inside her and all thoughts of Sara Sherbrooke left her. “I thought you were hungry,” she asked, sounding slightly breathless.

  Dylan stopped kissing her long enough to yank her shirt over her head and toss it on the floor. “I am. For you.” He pulled the elastic out of her hair, causing her hair to cascade down her back. “I’ve missed you.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to respond. Once again, his lips settled over hers, sending every coherent thought into outer space. As
his lips slanted over hers again and again, Callie melted against him and held on tight for the ride. Her entire body pulsed with desire, with expectation. Finally, when she thought she could no longer take it, Dylan picked her up, cradling her lovingly against his chest, and carried her back to his bedroom.

  He had no desire to move and disturb the woman sleeping in his arms, but if he didn’t get up soon and get them something to eat, his growling stomach would wake her anyway. Carefully, Dylan untangled himself and pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt.

  After ordering from his favorite Thai restaurant, he selected a wine from the rack. Opening the bottle, he poured himself a glass and gazed down at the street below. Since the food wouldn’t be there for another thirty minutes or so, he figured he would let Callie sleep. When she’d gotten off the train, she looked exhausted.

  He knew from their phone calls that she’d been busy all week. The students’ last day had been Wednesday and her final day of school had been Thursday. Then she’d immediately started her summer job earlier that morning. They’d spoken almost every day that week. He never spoke with anyone that much unless it related to business. Still, it hadn’t been enough. Every night, he found himself thinking about her. Wanting her by his side and in his bed. When he’d seen her step off the train, his first instinct was to pull her into his arms and kiss her, then lock them both in his apartment for the entire weekend.

  So far, he’d only done two of the three. The jury was still out on the last one. Would anyone really notice if they didn’t emerge from his apartment this weekend? These political fundraisers were hectic. Perhaps Warren would think he’d just not seen her there among everyone else.

  Fat chance of that, Talbot. Accept it. He was just going to have to share her this weekend. At least for a little while. Tomorrow night, he had every intention of getting them as much alone time as possible. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make it up to Massachusetts at all next week. This weekend might have to hold him over for a while. Maybe he could convince her to come back to the city next Friday after work. They might not get a lot of time together during the day on Saturday. He had a business lunch he couldn’t get out of that day. They’d have the nights together, though, and most of Sunday. If he could convince her to take his private plane instead of the ridiculous train, they would have even more time together.

  It was a definite possibility. Something he really liked the idea of. For someone who doesn’t do emotional relationships, you’re getting yourself pretty damn entangled.

  “I’ve got everything under control.” Dylan spoke the words aloud as if they would help convince him it was true. In the deep recesses of his mind and heart though, he knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. Somewhere along the line, he’d entered uncharted waters despite his best intentions.

  Dylan took another sip of wine with his thoughts turning to what his family might be thinking. They knew Callie was staying with him that weekend. They also knew he was escorting her to the fundraiser tomorrow night. His mum already knew about his agreement with Phillips. She’d been all for it. He got the feeling she also knew their relationship had crossed into intimate territory. She hadn’t come right out and said it, but she dropped several hints. Warren, though, seemed oblivious to the possibility.

  Was that because his stepfather was so distracted by the campaign? Or did Warren trust him so implicitly that he assumed Dylan would never fool around with his daughter? Dylan just didn’t know.

  Warren wasn’t one to lose his cool. Perhaps that was why he made such a good politician. He could hide his true emotions whenever he wanted. Dylan could only recall a handful of times when his stepfather had become visibly irate.

  “How’s he going to react if he finds out?” Warren knew exactly how Dylan approached relationships these days. Most likely he would not be pleased. “I’m not going to do anything differently, so why worry about it,” he muttered before taking another sip of wine.

  Dylan was still staring out the window twenty minutes later when he heard Callie enter the room. Turning to watch her, an unfamiliar feeling of contentment settled over him. Having her here in his apartment just felt natural. Reaching for her hand, he tugged her close. “Have a nice nap?”

  Callie nodded. “You should have woken me,” she replied just before yawning.

  “Obviously you needed the rest,” he pointed out, laughing. “Besides, I plan on keeping you up tonight, so I figured letting you sleep now was in my best interest.”

  She blushed at his comment, and he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss her. Dylan forced himself to pull away before they ended up in his bedroom again.

  Damn. He’d only intended a quick kiss. Yet once again, he got carried away. It happened so easily with her. It wasn’t something he was used to. He always remained in control, no matter who he was with. Yet with Callie, all his control went not only out the window but down the street to the next block, and Dylan kept forcing himself to not think about why.

  “Dinner is on its way.” He moved further away, putting a little more space between them. “I opened some wine. Would you like some?”

  “Sure.” Callie walked closer to the windows, which stretched from the ceiling to the floor.

  With her back toward him, Dylan couldn’t tell what was on her mind. Was she thinking about him? Her surroundings? Her father? The fundraiser? Whatever it was, he wanted to know.

  “You have a spectacular view from here.”

  Dylan thought he had the best view, and it had nothing to do with the view outside. “I sure do,” he agreed, his tone letting her know he wasn’t talking about the city below.

  Handing her a glass of wine, he asked, “Are you looking forward to tomorrow night?”

  Callie sighed very softly. In fact, if he hadn’t been so focused on her, he probably would’ve missed it.

  “Yes... I guess so.” She nibbled slightly on her bottom lip, which Dylan knew either meant she was deep in thought or nervous.

  “Honestly, I’m nervous about it.” She paused and took a long sip of wine. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t have come,” she admitted, looking him squarely in the eye.

  Her honesty and sincerity touched him. Dropping a feather light kiss on her mouth, he replied, “I’m glad you did.” A knock at the door interrupted him before he could say anything else. “That must be our food. Why don’t you have a seat at the table?”

  After returning with their meal, Dylan spread the containers of food on the table and grabbed some plates from the cabinet. “You know, I can’t remember the last time I sat here to eat dinner. Most of the time, I just grab something at the office or on my way home.”

  “That can’t be good for you.” Callie accepted the first container he offered her. “Everything looks and smells great. I haven’t had Thai food in months.”

  It sure does. However, Dylan wasn’t thinking about the food. He was thinking about how she looked sitting in his penthouse. It was definitely a sight he could get used to every night.

  Careful there. He was definitely treading on thin ice.

  Dylan spooned some rice onto his plate. “The fundraiser isn’t until seven tomorrow. I thought we could spend the day exploring the city. We can go anywhere you want. Shopping, museums. You name it.”

  Callie smiled, and his chest tightened with emotion. Instinctively, Dylan rubbed his chest as if he could get the feeling to leave. Emotions like the ones he felt for Callie were taboo to him. He didn’t allow them into his life. That was why he now had relationships only with women he knew wouldn’t evoke them. Not that some didn’t try. With the exception of Francesca, none had ever succeeded. Until now.

  But Callie wasn’t even trying. She was simply being herself. Perhaps that explained why he couldn’t resist her.

  Dylan poured himself more wine. “I have a surprise for you.”

  She eyed him suspiciously. “What kind of surprise?” Callie didn’t wait for him to answer. “The last time I got a surprise, I foun
d out Warren Sherbrooke was my father.”

  “It’s not life changing, I promise.” He took her free hand and squeezed it. “Was the surprise about your father good or bad?” He hadn’t intended to ask the question. It just slipped out. Now that he had, Dylan found that he really wanted to know.

  “Now that’s a loaded question.” Callie groaned, pushing the food around on her plate. “Good and bad, I guess. I know that makes no sense. I’m glad I know the truth, and Warren has been very nice.”

  “Sounds all good to me.”

  “My mom and I were really close. Believe it or not, she was one of my best friends, or at least I thought she was.” He could hear the bitterness in Callie’s voice.

  “I’m sure she had her reasons for not telling you.”

  Shrugging, she forced a smile. “Let’s talk about something else, okay?”

  Without saying another word, Dylan stood. “Stay right here. Don’t move.”

  Dylan disappeared into his room to retrieve the gown his executive assistant picked up for him that afternoon. He hoped she liked it.

  “I told you my surprise wasn’t life changing.” He held up the gown and waited for her response.

  She didn’t say anything. Instead, she stared at the dress, and then at him.

  “You said you were going to borrow something to wear.” When she still remained silent, he wondered if maybe she didn’t like it. “If it doesn’t fit or if you don’t like it, we can get something else tomorrow.”

  “It’s... I love it,” Callie replied, her voice full of emotion. “But I can’t... you shouldn’t have.”

  Dylan moved closer. “I wanted to.”