Tempted By The Billionaire Next Door. Therese Beharrie
turned back. ‘What?’
‘From which window did you see me fall?’
‘That one.’ She nodded to the window on the second level of the house next door, grateful that the chair she’d been sitting on—or the chips she’d been eating while watching him—wasn’t visible.
‘That’s my sister’s house.’
It took a moment for her mind to process the new information. ‘Your sister?’ she repeated. ‘You’re Dylan?’
‘Yeah,’ he said, his forehead creasing. ‘Who are you? And why are you staying in my sister’s house?’
‘I’m Jess. Jessica,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m staying at the house while Anja and Chet are away.’
His features tightened. ‘Away where?’
‘Sydney. They wanted to get Anja’s new yoga studio up and running before the—’ She caught herself before it was too late. She couldn’t tell Dylan about the baby. Anja would kill her. And she didn’t need to upset one of the few people who cared about her. ‘Does she know you’re here?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
There was a long stretch of silence before either of them spoke again. And then she asked, ‘You’ve been back for at least a week. Why haven’t you come over? Or tried to call her?’
He frowned. ‘How do you know how long I’ve been back for?’
Jess felt her eyes widen, her cheeks heat, before she managed to reply with something other than I’ve been watching you. ‘I heard the garbage truck pick up your bin earlier this week.’ She held her breath and hoped he’d buy the somewhat lame excuse.
‘And how do you know that I haven’t tried to call her?’
‘She...would have told me.’
He studied her. ‘How exactly do you know Anja?’
Something about the way he asked it put her back up. ‘I’m her PA.’
‘She let her PA stay in her house?’ There was barely a pause before he continued. ‘She would tell her PA if her brother called her?’
Jess straightened. ‘Yes. Your sister and I are also friends. Good friends.’ She kept her hand from going to her stomach—to the proof of the bond that she and Anja shared—and forced herself to calm down when an inner voice questioned why she was responding so defensively. ‘I didn’t realise it was you when I came over.’
‘But you knew I lived next door?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, but it got her thinking about why it hadn’t occurred to her that Mr Sexy-Next-Door was actually Anja’s brother. ‘I knew you lived next door, but Anja didn’t tell me which next door you lived in.’
‘And you never asked?’
You’re not exactly a topic of conversation either of us readily bring up. ‘It didn’t matter.’
‘Because my sister doesn’t talk about me?’
‘Because you weren’t here.’
Though both answers were true, it seemed as if Dylan cared more about the option she’d offered. Because when he’d given his option his face hadn’t tightened the way it had after she’d spoken. Hurt hadn’t flashed across his face, quickly followed by a blankness she couldn’t help but feel was desperate.
‘Why are you here?’ she said after a moment, unable to help herself.
‘I live here.’ There was a beat of silence. ‘This is my home.’
‘It hasn’t been,’ she reminded him, still compelled by reasons she wasn’t quite sure of. ‘Not for the last two years.’
‘No, it has been,’ Dylan replied softly. ‘But even the best of us run away from home sometimes, don’t we?’
Her heart stalled, reminding her of the old car she’d seen just that morning, spluttering down the road in front of Anja’s house. Why did it feel as if he was talking about her? To her? As if he instinctively knew that she’d turned her back on the place she’d once called home? As if he knew that she’d run from the parents who hadn’t cared enough to even try to make her believe that they wanted her to stay?
‘When are they coming back?’ Dylan asked gruffly. Jess shook her head, ignoring the need to push for more answers. To find out why telling her he’d run from home had clearly upset him. It was none of her business.
‘The end of the month.’ Though Jess had a feeling it would be a lot sooner once she told Anja that Dylan had returned. ‘How long have you been back?’
‘You were right,’ he replied. ‘About a week.’
So he’d been chopping up wood since the day he’d returned, she thought, and forced away the sudden disappointment that came from knowing she’d no longer be able to watch him. How could she, knowing who he was?
Older brother of her best friend. Uncle to the child she carried.
‘Do you know where I’ve been?’
‘The UK?’ He nodded. ‘Yeah, Anja told me you’ve been away for...business.’
‘Clearly that isn’t all she told you,’ he said with a self-deprecating smile.
‘No.’
The smile dimmed. ‘There’s a lot you seem to know about me, Jessica, and yet I haven’t even heard about you.’
‘Does that surprise you?’
‘No.’ A fleeting shadow of pain darkened his features. ‘But I’m back now.’
‘So you are.’
‘And I’d like to have my return start on the right foot.’
Something pulsed in the air between them, but Jess refused to acknowledge it. ‘Yeah, okay. Go for it.’
He smiled at her, and this time it wasn’t laden with emotion. It was an easy, natural smile she imagined he’d give when he saw an old friend, or during his favourite movie. But it sent an unnatural frisson through her body.
‘You should have lunch with me.’
‘No,’ she said immediately.
‘You have somewhere else to be?’
‘No, but—’
‘Then have lunch with me.’
‘No, thank you,’ she said more firmly, hoping none of the panic she felt was evident in her voice. ‘You were...busy before I interrupted.’
‘After what happened, I think I’m done for the day.’
‘I really don’t think I should—’
‘Please.’ His smile widened and she almost felt faint. ‘I’d like to get to know the woman staying in my sister’s house. The woman who’s clearly a good friend of hers.’ He paused. ‘That’s what I meant by having my return start on the right foot. If you and I are on good terms when Anja gets back...’
The seconds ticked by, and then Jess narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re schmoozing me!’
Surprise captured his features, and then he laughed. A loud, genuine laugh that started at those fantastic abs and went all the way up to his perfect hair. It was fascinating to watch. The even angles of his face were animated with joy, those chocolate-whisky eyes she only now noticed he shared with his sister alight with appreciation.
She’d never been much of a beard woman, but Dylan’s stubble was dissuading her of that belief. She loved that his skin reminded her of