Glow (21 page)

“I did. I have some clothes for us to change into in the trunk. You seemed a lot more comfortable on Kar Kalim yesterday morning, so I thought the time might be right for another lesson.”

He referred to the fact that after she'd dodged her follower and they'd had that impulsive, scorching tryst in the woods, he'd taken her back to the stables on his horse.

“I was too busy thinking about other things to be nervous,” she said wryly. “But I
was
more relaxed than I was with Quinn. Kar Kalim is an amazing horse.”

“So you don't mind?”

“No,” she said honestly. “It sounds nice.”

In fact, it had been a unique and wonderful experience for her last Saturday, to go to the stables and their special dinner, to escape for a period of time from the shadows and mysteries of Castle Durand . . . to share stolen moments with Dylan. It'd felt as if an entire new aspect of her personality had flowered, being with him on that sunny day and romantic, star-filled night. The Durand home and grounds drew her in so many ways, but there was a darkness to it, too, an oppression that felt so hard for her to shake at times.

Presently, sunshine filled the sedan and glowed all around them like a warm embrace. Dylan looked so handsome and in control behind the wheel of the luxury sedan, his suit jacket in the backseat and his tie loosened. She felt happy. The moment of existential angst she'd experienced at the hospital had entirely faded, thank God. Dylan was right. They just needed to deal with things one moment at a time.

He glanced over at her and did a double take.

“Why are you smiling?” he asked, his mouth twitching.

“I'm just glad you planned this. That's all.”

He arched his brows, staring at the road again. “Then I'm glad. I was worried about you, back there at the hospital.”

“I'm fine,” she assured. She was starting to feel like a tape recording, saying that over and over again.

He gave her a quick smile that went all the way to his eyes, and Alice experienced a rush of relief. He wasn't going to push her into talking about what had happened at the hospital. Not now, he wasn't.

“Do you want to try riding on your own this time?” he asked her.

“Do you think I'm ready for that?”

“With the right mount, I think you were born ready.”

*   *   *

OF
course, Dylan had already discussed with Kevin Riley, the owner of Riley Stables, what he considered to be the
right
mount for Alice. After they'd changed into riding clothes, Dylan and Kevin introduced Alice to the horse. She was a beautiful gentle mare with a glossy mahogany coat and liquid brown eyes. She was much smaller and more delicate than Quinn or Kar Kalim, which Alice appreciated. Her fear of heights and falling had not disappeared by any means, and she doubted it ever would entirely—especially now that she knew the original cause of her phobia. But the pretty mare was a lot less intimidating than either Quinn or Kar Kalim.

For Alice, it was love at first sight. Her name was Shenandoah, but Kevin called her Doah for short. Alice did, too, as she petted and murmured nonsense to the patient, appreciative mare.

“I guess you know how to pick them,” Kevin told Dylan with a knowing grin before he left them to their ride.

When she first mounted alone, she had her misgivings about whether or not this was a good idea. True, Doah was a good deal closer to the ground than Quinn or Kar Kalim had been, but there was no Dylan holding her securely from behind, either.

Certainly there were no moments of Dylan providing her with mindless ecstasy to erase her anxiety, either.

He was right there, though, at first guiding Doah and Alice on the lunge line. They stayed within the confines of the large
enclosure at first, Alice and Doah making circles around Dylan as he held on to the lunge and patiently instructed her on riding basics. Alice's nervousness faded by degrees, replaced at first by cautious optimism and, slowly, by the thrill of mastering a new task. Doah was extremely well trained and exquisitely sensitive to even her subtlest commands.

Finally, Dylan said he thought she was ready to take an easy ride on the path that led along the lakefront. He alighted on his chosen mount, a big chestnut stallion with fire in his eyes, and they headed at a slow pace toward the golden lake.

“Why are you so preoccupied?” Dylan asked her when they reached the portion of the path that followed the shoreline, allowing them to ride side by side.

She glanced over at him, squinting into the light of the dipping sun and the luminescent lake. “I was thinking about when you had us on the lunge there in the corral. I know it was probably my imagination, knowing what you've told me about how you trained Addie on her pony, but—”

“What?”

“It felt
familiar
. Like I'd done it before,” she said, her voice just loud enough to be heard above the horses' clomping hooves. “Do you think it was a real memory?” she asked, keeping her gaze trained ahead on the path.

“Do you want it to be?”

“Yes.”

“Then it was, because it definitely happened,” he said. She looked over at him. Whether it was the bright, intense sunlight or her bubbling sense of happiness, she allowed herself to be on display. She was losing the ability to shield her emotions. Or maybe allowing herself to show her feelings was the real skill, after all . . . the true strength?

His expression stiffened, and suddenly he was urging his mount nearer to Alice and reaching with one hand for her reins.

“Whoa,” he murmured, pulling up on them. Guessing his intent, Alice tautened the reins. The horses halted, side by side. Dylan leaned in and down several inches, his gloved hand cupping her jaw, and he was kissing her, deep and thorough.

“Do you like Doah?” he asked gruffly, nibbling at her mouth a moment later.

“You know I love her,” Alice replied, her eyes closed. She felt dazed and heated by his drugging kiss and the warm sunlight.

“Good. She's yours. Happy birthday, Alice.”

She blinked open her eyes. The sunlight blazed around his shoulders and head. She squinted, bringing his shadowed features into focus.

“What? My birthday isn't until August twenty-eighth.”

He shook his head. Why did he look so sober?

“It's today,” he said gruffly. He applied a pressure with his hand on her jaw and pressed his mouth to hers again. She kissed him back, her mind spinning. Distantly, she realized he was doing what he always did, comforting her with his touch when he revealed anything he thought she'd find anxiety provoking.

“Addie was born on July twenty-first,” he said a moment later next to her lips. He leaned back slightly and studied her face. “I thought you'd want to know.”

She inhaled shakily. “Of course,” she said, trying to focus her attention. “Sissy would have had to make up a date, wouldn't she? Even there, at the hospital when she first saw me. Even if either Cunningham or her knew the actual date, which I doubt, they couldn't provide it to the hospital and risk the chances of authorities checking the records.”

He nodded, still somber.

“Thanks for telling me,” she said. He looked doubtful. “No, I mean it. It's weird to hear it, but it makes sense. Why would I share Addie's birthday? That would be odd, under the circumstances. It'll take some getting used to, but I'd rather know. I'm glad you
thought I'd be . . . you know, okay hearing it,” she said, embarrassment hitting her when she recalled how weak and transparent she'd been in front of him and Sidney earlier at the hospital.

“I know you've had to hear and absorb a lot lately. I wasn't sure about telling you. But it didn't seem right, to let the date pass. Not when you're back. There were a lot of birthdays that Alan couldn't wish you happiness. Or me. It just didn't seem right, to let another one pass,” he repeated gruffly, dropping his hand and straightening. They remained motionless on their mounts for a stretched moment, Dylan looking out at the lake, and she at his rugged profile.

“Do you ever think about what will happen if the test results say I'm not their daughter?”

Would you feel the same way about me, if that were true?

His chin turned sharply. “No. Are
you
thinking about that?”

“It's always a possibility, isn't it?”

His dark eyes ran over her face.

“No,” he said, finality ringing in his deep voice.

She attempted a smile. “So . . . I'm twenty-four today?” she asked shakily.

“Yes.”

She blinked, hearing the rest of what he'd said earlier as if for the first time. “And Doah is
mine
?” she asked, disbelief and amazement finally hitting her.

“She's yours. And
that
gift is from me.”

She saw the warmth in his eyes and the emergence of that small, deadly smile, and suddenly she was the one leaning toward him, her fingers sinking into his hair, seeking the sweet, heady solace of his mouth.

W
here are we having dinner?” she asked dreamily later that evening as she stared out the car window at the orange ball of the sun as it began its descent into Lake Michigan. She felt so content after their ride, like she'd not only faced a fear, but surmounted it. True, Doah had made riding seem so easy—something she'd expected Dylan made sure of when he'd generously gifted her with a mount. But it was more than facing her fear about falling, or even getting the blood test done.

She'd told Dylan she loved him today. She'd exposed her heart, and she was still living and breathing. There was no pain, only joy. The world hadn't come to an end.

“Dinner is a surprise,” he said, his gaze remaining on the road. She absorbed the image of him. Again, that feeling of euphoria went through her. He was
hers
in this moment of time, and that was a wonder. He looked good enough to eat, rugged and handsome in his jeans and a fitted blue and white plaid button-down shirt that fit his lean torso and muscular chest, shoulders, and arms perfectly. It took her a moment of satisfied lusting before she recognized how intent he appeared as he drove.

“What's got you so serious? You're not still worried about telling me it's my birthday, are you?”

He blinked and glanced over at her swiftly. “No, it's not that. At least not mainly.”

“What's that supposed to mean?” she asked, grinning. He noticed her smile.

“I wanted to wait until you gained your . . . equilibrium to ask, but what happened at the hospital to upset you? Did the doctor say something to you?”

“No, not at all. The doctor wasn't even there.” She explained to him about Dr. Shineburg being called in for an emergency.

“I was hoping you'd get a chance to speak with him. He knew Alan and Lynn,” Dylan said, his brows furrowing as he stared at the road.

“It's okay. I was just glad to get it over and done with. If I ever want to speak to him after the results are in, I will.”

“Then what
did
upset you?”

“Oh, something stupid,” she discounted.

He looked at her, his wry glance saying loud and clear that he wouldn't find it stupid.

“I just . . . I had this thought.
Where will I be when I get the results of the test?
”

“I don't get it,” he said blankly after a pause.

“That question just brought up so much stuff. I mean, if I don't get hired by Durand, will I be at Maggie's house in my apartment when I get the call? Will I be looking for a job? If I do get the Durand job, does that mean I'll be in the process of relocating to a new office? If so, where? And what will it be like, to leave here and everything—” Her voice broke. Her seat belt tightened when he abruptly hit the brakes. “Dylan, what are you
doing
?”

He was pulling the car over to the side of the rural route. He brought it to a halt and shifted the vehicle into park. Alice blinked when he turned to her, and she saw the gleam of fire in his eyes.

“Why are you so damn stubborn about this?”

“What do you mean?” she asked, stunned.

“You are the sole heiress of Durand Enterprises.
You
. No one else—”

“Dylan, I don't want to—”

“
No
. You've refused to listen to me about this, but you can't go on blinding yourself, Alice,” he grated out between clenched teeth. He leaned across the dashboard, grasping her upper arms. “I disagreed with the idea of you returning to the camp and going on as if nothing had changed, but I understood why you wanted to do it.”

“I have to finish what I started! It's what I came here to do—”

“Fine,” he said loudly, teeth flashing between tightly drawn lips. “But you're not going to keep persisting in this fantasy that you're going to be sent away from Durand under any circumstances.”

“But—”

He shook her slightly. “You've got to stop imagining that I'm going to allow you to be sent away from
me
.” She went silent, stunned by his fierce focus.

His shout echoed in her head. Her mouth dropped open in amazement.

“Now are you going to listen to this, or not?” he asked in a more restrained tone. His jaw was very tight.

She nodded. Not even she would dare to defy him at that moment.

“Good,” he snapped.

He exhaled slowly, mastering himself, before he began.

“After Lynn passed away, Alan set up a trust that was to be followed to the letter while his daughter remained missing. He put sixty percent of the stock of Durand Enterprises into this trust, which included very specific philanthropic directives. He generously offered me the opportunity to purchase the remaining shares of his company—forty percent—at a discount rate. He also made me executor of Addie's trust. Sixty percent of Durand's cash, investments, dividends, and profits were annually poured back into that fund for nearly two decades. I've followed Alan's philanthropic directives to a T, but the excess has been enormous. I've managed the excess to the best of my ability, and it's done well.
Very well. Alan specified that in the event that his daughter returned, the directives for how the trust must be spent would be dissolved, and either the executor or Addie, if she was of legal age, could utilize the funds as needed. The excess fund currently yields more than six hundred million dollars a year. In total, the trust is worth billions of dollars. And it's yours, Alice . . . along with the controlling interest in Durand.”

Shivers poured through her. “I can't take any of that.”

“I'm not asking you to be ready now, either to assume ownership or to lead the company—”

“I'm not leading Durand Enterprises. Are you
crazy
?” she blurted, shocked to the core at the very mention. The idea of making decisions that affected tens of thousands of people horrified her. Her ignorance and lack of experience yawned in front of her like a depthless black hole, and she was teetering on the edge of it.

“I told you, I'm not expecting anything now except that you assimilate at your own pace. Take as much time as you need.” He squeezed her upper arms for emphasis. “But I won't have you worrying about going back to Chicago to find a job or relocating somewhere you don't want to go. If you want to persist in this Camp Durand business, then you can be hired on as a junior executive and work in Morgantown. It's our headquarters. Why shouldn't you get your feet wet there?” he grumbled impatiently. Clearly she'd pushed him to the edge.

She swallowed thickly. “That's . . . sort of what I was thinking. Hoping for.”

His gaze flickered to her face. “Then why didn't you just
say
so?”

“Because I don't know if I'm going to be asked to be a Durand manager or not!”

He rolled his eyes and let go of her. He sagged back in his seat, raking his fingers through his hair. “Jesus. Did you even hear a word of what I just said?”

“I heard you. It was sort of hard not to, you were yelling so loud!” She, too, sagged back in her seat, her arms folded across her belly. A car zoomed past, making the sedan vibrate.

“We don't even know if it's true yet,” she said in a hushed tone after a tense silence.

“There is no doubt in my mind. If you aren't their daughter, why are you having all these flashbacks and memories?” he asked through a clenched jaw. “And how does it happen that Alice Reed came into being at the exact moment that Addie Durand disappeared?”

Alice closed her eyes briefly. “I'd rather see the proof, firsthand. Is that too much to ask? And in the meantime, surely it makes sense for me to continue at the camp. Don't you think it'd be more ideal if it all turns out to be true for sure, that Durand employees knew I'd been in the trenches? That I was willing to show I'm not afraid of hard work or to start out at the bottom?”

He shook his head, staring at the road ahead of them. “You don't understand. Durand is yours by birth and by law. You're not obligated to prove
anything
.” She watched him grip the wheel, his knuckles going white.

“I disagree.” She reached out and squeezed his forearm. He blinked and looked at her. She held his stare. “I'm not saying I'm ever going to lead Durand. But if I did, I'd want to show I'd earned the right to do it. I'd want to demonstrate to the employees I was willing to work my ass off for their company. I'd want to earn their respect.” She gripped his arm. “I'd want to do it like
you
did,” she whispered emphatically.

She watched as the cutting fire in his eyes banked to a warm gleam. He exhaled heavily and grabbed her extended hand. He enfolded it in both of his and rested it on his thigh. They said nothing for a moment, watching as a pickup truck barreled past them and slowly disappeared down the ribbon of highway.

“Is it really all that crazy that I want to finish Camp Durand successfully?” she asked in a hushed tone.

“I guess not,” he replied. “Just stop living under the illusion that if you want to be a manager for Durand Enterprises and learn the company, that anyone has the power to stop you, including me.”

“Maybe you can explain that to Kehoe,” she murmured, smiling.

“Fuck Kehoe.” He glanced at her, his former fire blazing high again for a brief moment. “I've heard nothing but good things about how you're managing at the camp.”

She perked up a little at that. “You have?”

His brief shrug and expression seemed to say,
Of course, what else would I have heard?

“We haven't talked about it all that much. I wasn't sure if you knew anything beyond the little bit I told you last weekend.”

“I hear things. I didn't want to bring it up. I didn't want to overshadow your decisions or progress as a counselor.”

She smiled. “You wanted me to sink or swim by my own merits?”

“Yes.”

She gripped his hand tighter. He glanced over at her.

“That's all I want, too, Dylan,” she explained feelingly, willing him to understand her point of view.

After a moment, he exhaled and shook his head.

“Is that another thing you've learned at camp? How to sway a dissenter so perfectly?” he asked, giving her a darkly amused glance and reaching to put the car back in drive. Alice laughed.

“No. I think I owe that lesson one hundred percent to you.”

*   *   *

BY
the time they returned to Morgantown, the evening had turned still, overcast, and muggy. Steel gray clouds encroached on the brilliantly lit sunset. Alice thought the dramatic, eerie backdrop of the sky especially fitting for the beautiful, silent mansion perched atop the bluff.

“Is everyone gone, do you think?” she asked Dylan when they entered the house via the garage.

“Yes. We're all alone. Louise has set the alarm,” he said, pushing in the code on the keypad of the security system. He turned to her. “You go up and shower for dinner. I've got to take care of a few things, but I'll come up and get you when everything is ready.”

“Why are you being so mysterious?” she asked him, grinning.

“Because it's a surprise, why else?”

Her grin widened. No matter how hard she tried to wheedle a few clues out of him as to what he planned, he was impervious. He just hustled her over to the grand staircase and urged her up the stairs.

“But . . . what am I supposed to wear?” she demanded when he'd successfully pushed her up three steps.

“The less, the better,” he said. He noticed her exacerbated expression. “Anything. Don't get dressed up. It doesn't matter. No one is going to see you but me.”

“Then it matters a lot.”

He lunged up the first two steps, cupped her jaw, and planted a kiss on her mouth for that. That kiss didn't last long enough for Alice before he was turning her around again.

“I'll come and get you in forty-five minutes or so,” he said from behind her. “No venturing out this time, armed with a golf club or not. Stay
put
.”

“But—”

She tried to turn around, but he stopped her by facing her toward the staircase with his hands on her shoulders. She looked over her shoulder, and he gave her ass a playful swat.

“There are more of those where that came from. It is your birthday, remember?” he asked, that dangerous glint shining in his dark eyes. He raised his hand over her ass when she hesitated. She snorted with laughter, leaping up the stairs to avoid his swat.

After she finished taking her shower and washing her hair, she
hesitated about what to wear, given the meager information Dylan had provided. She considered all the lovely things he'd given her last week. Cinching the sash tight on her fluffy robe, she wandered out of the bathroom to the closet where the items were stored. What would be appropriate for what sounded like a special dinner?

A birthday dinner. It still seemed too incredible to believe. But that wasn't the primary reason she found the day special. Today was the day she'd told him she loved him.

Several minutes later, she stood up quickly when she heard the knob turning. She'd been reading a Durand annual report that was on the coffee table. Or she'd
tried
to read it, anyway. Mostly she'd been on high alert, waiting for Dylan.

He walked toward her now, smiling when he saw her tug self-consciously at the tie on her robe.

“I thought you said I shouldn't dress up,” she said, eyeing him and scowling. He looked indecently gorgeous. He'd obviously showered in another room, because there was still moisture in his thick, wavy hair. He wore a pair of black trousers and a stylish black, gray, and ivory short-sleeved polo. She caught a hint of his clean, spicy aftershave as he neared her.

“I said it didn't matter,” he repeating, running the lapel of her robe through his hands. He stepped closer, his head lowering until their faces were just inches apart. She stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. It was as if it were her first time seeing him. Her body clamored with awareness. “Your robe is perfect. You might be a little warm, though. We're having dinner outside, and it's muggy out there,” he said, his voice going low and gruff. His dark eyes ensnared her. She was intensely aware of his hands sliding up and down on the lapel of her robe, his knuckles brushing against the bare skin of her chest. His mouth hovered just an inch above hers.