The Boss and Her Billionaire (22 page)

“You could have another no-strings relationship with me? No, thanks.”

“Who said anything about no-strings?”

“You did. Don’t pretend you don’t have a bunch of women on call now that you’re back on dry land.”

She fought to contain the bitterness in her voice. “I know how women react to you. I was on the Pacific Empress too, remember? And here you don’t have a contract saying you can’t go there with

passengers.”

Dylan seemed genuinely affronted. “Is that what you think? That I lead women on like that? That I set out to hurt them?”

She raised an eyebrow at him, refusing to deny her ugly thought even though she wasn’t sure she

believed it herself.

“God, here I’ve been trying to be better than Brian, and it turns out you think I’m worse than him.”

The statement caught her up short. Did she?

Of course she didn’t. But he could hurt her so easily. He didn’t believe in marriage or long-term

compatibility—he’d told her so himself. So what kind of future could they have?

No kind of future at all.

Inhaling deeply, Dylan shook his head. “I have always tried to be up front. I was going to leave after three months, and I thought you’d still be onboard, or at least in a different country. But now here you are.”

Michaela looked up at him. Every time she thought she’d found a flaw in his excuses, he pulled out

something like that. The glint was gone, and this was pure sincerity.

“But you don’t do long-term.” Someone always loves more, that’s what he’d said. That someone wasn’t

him. Michaela sighed, realizing she might never get over Dylan Johns properly. What if she couldn’t?

“You can see why, can’t you? My life is complicated, too complicated to hurt another person by offering something I don’t know I can give. I have to make certain the business stays on track. There’s a

considerable amount of damage control to be done, and that’s what I have to focus on.”

“Of course.” What he said certainly made sense—but she longed for him to want more, and to tell her

just how much.

“But we’re grownups, busy grownups. We might be able to arrange something that works for both of us,

don’t you think?”

She was busy, and she had been missing him. Wasn’t he offering her the perfect solution? “When you

arrived onboard, you’d let go of everything to do with this life, your work life, and you could be another person,” she said, trying to make sense of it for herself.

He nodded his head.

“And you’re doing all this? Working all the hours there are and giving up on dancing again for your

mother?”

“Well. I mean…” He seemed embarrassed. “It was her company. And she was my mother.”

“But she was a dancer, too. Are you sure she would have wanted you to give up again? Did you talk

about it when you got back?”

He paused. “She wasn’t well enough. I’ll never know.” He looked out over the harbor, his thoughts

obviously taking him miles away.

A waiter interrupted his reverie. “I’m sorry,” Dylan said once the entrees were in front of them. “Enough about me for a minute. How are you enjoying Sydney?”

Michaela was torn between pushing him to continue talking about his mother and letting him have

some time off from the pain. The latter seemed the kinder option. She babbled for a bit about walking on the beach, shopping at the market, and as the conversation became lighter, a little of the old Dylan resurfaced.But throughout the meal the question that had hung over her since she’d seen him outside

his office sat between them unanswered. Could she do this? Could she be with him? She looked up at

Dylan as he stole a piece of grilled haloumi from her plate. The bigger question was, how could she not?

Dylan had been right about ordering the chef’s special menu. The food was spectacular. As she licked

the final mouthful of raspberry crème br?lée from her spoon, Michaela sighed in satisfaction. “I could get used to this,” she said.

Immediately, she felt Dylan’s eyes on her. “Really?”

“Of course. Fine food, fine wine, an amazing view, what’s not to like?”

“And how about the company?”

Taking a deep breath, Michaela looked into his eyes. Oh, I could get used to you. Her heart swum in her chest, and she had to work hard to not say yes immediately.

Calm down, girl. He’s not promising anything.

“Well, it might take some getting used to. But there’s definitely promise.”

A slow smile spread across Dylan’s face. “So it’s not like you’d never want to be seen with me again after tonight?”

“Not exactly.”

“And as we’re both here in Sydney…?”

She rolled her eyes at him as his smile broadened.

“Not so fast,” she said, retracting her hand, but the look in his eyes was chipping away at her resolve.

“You just admitted you work every hour there is.”

“You’re right. I did. I do. But I would like to change that, especially after seeing you again.” Dylan said the words as if he were trying to convince himself.

“Well.” Michaela’s head was spinning, her heart hanging onto a hope that…

No, think about what he said. Think about what he wants. Company. Pleasure. Nothing more.

Damn it. Why did she want more?

“We’ll see.”

Dylan took both her hands this time, and the smile heated the green depths of his eyes. “Michaela

Western, if there was ever someone who could get me to rearrange my calendar, it’s you. Work

shouldn’t be everything, should it? I’m going to make damn sure you get used to me.”

She beat down a giggle at his affected growl.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here,” Dylan said.

They rose from the table, and Michaela finally accepted his jacket against the cold of the evening.He went to put his arm around her in the back seat of the car, but corrected himself. Good. This time,

taking it slowly would mean exactly that.

At her hotel he walked her to the foyer. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

She checked his eyes, but there was only sincerity there. “I want to hope so,” she said. “But I don’t know if I should.”

“You should,” he said simply.

“Then I hope I will.”

“I hope so, too.” Dylan dipped his head to kiss her hand. The smallest sweep of his lips against skin, a fleeting moment of warmth before it was gone. Michaela stood watching his broad shoulders walk away

until they disappeared back into the car.

Gone again, she thought.

But he’d been the one to suggest they try again. Maybe it would be different this time. That’s what he’d promised, wasn’t it? There was no pretense this time, and no expiration date. She thought about what

he’d said and smiled. Maybe she’d be the one to break through his commitment phobia.

Don’t get your hopes up. And anyway, you’ve got a career to focus on, remember?

But her stern internal censor was no match for the bright flow of hope that spread throughout her body.

In her room, Michaela fell onto the bed, spreading herself over the soft cover in luxurious anticipation.

Dylan was here, in Sydney, and there was no three-month deadline in sight.

…

“Mom would have liked you,” Dylan whispered to Michaela as he left her hotel.

The two women were very alike. His mother had always been strong and positive, and Michaela was the

same. Even when he could tell she was hurt and afraid he would run out on her again, Michaela had

managed to turn the tables on him, focusing on how he should be following his dreams. Not only that,

but their conversation had cut right to the heart of his fears about being like his brother. “Which I’m not,” he said aloud.

“Everything all right, sir?”

“Oh, yes, sorry. Muttering to myself a bit, aren’t I?” Dylan had forgotten the chauffeur at the wheel of his Jaguar.

“No problems, sir. Expect a young woman like that would make your head spin.”

She did that, thought Dylan. Michaela Western had made him spin from the moment he saw her.

He turned and looked out the rear window of the car, trying to picture her looking down at him from her hotel room. It would be good to have her in his life again. More than good. It would be perfect having her in his life again.

The company would still have to come first, but he would find room for Michaela—make his secretary

schedule a weekly time to see her, if he had to. Michaela helped him relax, helped him see his way more clearly. He already felt more alive and focused than he had all week. He could do his job better with her in his life.

The thought was a revelation. It could be the perfect mix of both worlds, pleasure and business working cooperatively in his life for a change.

He sighed. It would be perfect for as long as it lasted.

When she got tired of him, ready to find her happily-ever-after with another man, he would let her go.

The thought of not having her unconditionally brought a tightness to his chest, but he ignored it. He was who he was—who he had to be, for the sake of the company and his mother’s memory, and for Lily and

the children’s stability. He couldn’t change. Not even for Michaela Western.

Dylan’s PA had called first thing, arranging for Michaela to be collected from her hotel after work. When she put down the phone, Michaela paused. It was strange that Dylan hadn’t called himself. Though at

least he had bothered to set up a date. It wasn’t like he’d known she was in Sydney before yesterday—

he might be stuck in some multinational takeover bid for all she knew.

Finding a way to finish a little early, Michaela almost ran back to her hotel at the end of the day,

allowing herself a full twenty minutes to get ready for Dylan. Her command to her nerves to be still was ineffective, and she had to almost sit on her hands when she was ready early. The knock on her door

made her jump, but when she opened it to Dylan’s smiling face and a dozen red roses, she almost

yelped in excitement. Man, she felt like a teenager.

“This time we’re going to my favorite restaurant,” he told her.

Michaela frowned, anticipating something five-star. “Do I need to change?” she asked, looking down at her slightly shabby dress.

He laughed. “You might be a little overdressed, but no one will mind. Come on.”

This time, the views weren’t spectacular. In fact, there wasn’t a view to speak of—they were pushed

into a corner table while waiters circled around them calling loudly in Italian to each other.

“This is your favorite restaurant?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Wait,” was all he said.

And it was worth the wait. The noise began to make sense as Michaela relaxed into the evening. She

enjoyed hearing the waiters burst into song at regular intervals, and the food was better than anything she’d ever tried in the Italian restaurants she’d been to.

But the best part was the way they treated Dylan, as if he were family. When she commented on it, he

smiled and gestured to the ma?tre d’. “This is Lily,” he said.

“And who is this?” Lily asked. Michaela thought she caught a flicker of sadness in the woman’s eyes,

though she smiled.

“This is the indomitable Michaela Western,” Dylan said. “A high flier in the entertainment industry.”

The two women shared a look, and Michaela thought, She’s totally in love with him. Lily’s eyes spoke

clearly of all the heartache Dylan had caused her—was still causing her.

He didn’t mean to, she thought defensively. It’s different for us. We’ve been up-front about everything.

“Well, thank God she’s willing to put up with you. I’ll get you both the house special,” Lily said to Dylan and walked away to give their order to the kitchen.

“So that’s Brian’s wife,” Michaela said, almost as an aside.

“Yep. This is the only thing from their marriage that’s all hers. I made sure of that when he left the first time. Good thing I did, too. I’ve had to get the lawyers to ensure Brian can’t do any more harm to the company. Means it’s up to me again, but I’ll sort it out. Always have, probably always will.”

Michaela stopped thinking about Lily and focused on Dylan. He was a good man—a family man, even if

he didn’t want a wife and children. “Do you hate the work that much?”

“No, I don’t hate it,” he said. He paused, looking off somewhere in the distance. “There are parts of the finance industry I love. It’s been my life for so many years.” Dylan’s focus came back to her. “I just know I’ve been missing out on a lot by working all the time. And, well, now that I’ve had a taste of something different, it’s harder to be back. I’ll get used to it again. Someone has to keep the business going and make sure everyone’s okay.”Maybe you should just sell the company.”

He gave her a sharp look. “Have you been talking to someone?”

She started. “No. Who would I talk to? What do you mean?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” His face tightened, and he leaned in closer. “There have been a few companies sniffing around since I got back. Bloody vultures. I’ve blown them off—I didn’t think Mom would approve. They

just want to break up the company, dismantle everything we’ve built.”

Michaela nodded, but she couldn’t deny her disappointment. If Dylan wouldn’t sell the company now,

when there were offers on the table, would he ever walk away? Would he ever be able to let go of work enough to concentrate on building something with her?

Despite the nervous twist the thought made in her stomach, they managed to keep up a lively banter

throughout dinner, and Michaela began looking forward to spending time with Dylan at her hotel, away

from the ever-present eyes of his sister-in-law.

When they walked up the hall to her room, Michaela steeled herself to make the first move. “Will you

come in?” she asked, aware already of the response his proximity generated in her body.

Dylan simply nodded and followed her into the suite. They sat on the edge of the bed. “Do you think