"What did Taylor want?” Lorraine ask partly because she was curious and partly because she wanted to change the subject.
Frowning, Dylan releases her and begins to roll up the plans on the table. “It was about George.”
"What about George" she whispers and Dylan shook his head with a scowl.
"He tried escaping prison" he said and Lorraine's heart skip a bit.
"What!"
"He had some of his friends help him and bribed the warden who actually was leading him on" he sighed "the Warden set a trap for him, made him actually escape but got him arrested almost immediately"
"Why did he let him escape in the first place?" Lorraine furrowed her brows
"For his money..." Dylan sighed exasperatedly "let's go home, love. We can take a hot bath together before we let Dane see us" he managed a smile and she noticed his few weeks old stubble.
"I don't believe it but you're right," she glanced down at her full and sore breast. "I really need that bath"
They drive back to the estate and went straight up to their room.
They had stripped their selves of their clothes and soaked in the warm bath.
"Do you think he'll be able to get out again?" Lorraine asked and Dylan who had been looking stressed about the issue sighed.
"He won't" he assured firmly.
She nodded and brushed her fingers against his chin "I like this, but you need to trim it" she gave an exhausted smile.
"I'll just do it tomorrow" he said.
"I can trim it for you tonight" she smirked
"Oh, no" he smiled this time
"You'll look good. I promise not to ruin it" she chuckled
"Lorraine, I love you. But I just can't trust you with this"
Lorraine gasped feigning hurt "I think I feel my motivation spiking" she stood up from the tub and dried up.
She went to the bathroom dresser his things were and took what she needed.
"Lorraine" Dylan drawed her name and she just gave a laugh as she proceeded to trimming his beards.
"You'll look good, I promise" she laughed.
***
Six months after
Lorraine gaze at him, drinking him in as he drives.
He looks casual, cool . . . sexy with his tousled hair, Ray-Bans, pinstripe jacket, white linen shirt, and jeans.
He glances at her and clasps her leg above the knee, his fingers stroking gently. “I’m glad you didn’t change.”
She did slip on a denim jacket and change to flats, but she's still wearing the short
skirt. His hand lingers above her knee. I put my hand on his.
“Are you going to continue to tease me?”
“Maybe.” Dylan smiles.
“Why?”
“Because I can.” He grins, boyish as ever.
“Two can play at that game,” she whisper.
His fingers move tantalizingly up her thigh.
“Bring it on, Mrs. Walker.” His grin broadens.
She pick up his hand and put it back on his knee. “Well, you can keep your hands to yourself.”
He smirks. “As you wish, Mrs. Walker”
Dammit. The game was going to backfire on her.
Dylan turns into the driveway of their new house.
He stops at the keypad and punches in a number, and the ornate white metal gates swing open.
They roar up the tree-lined lane under leaves that are a blend of green, yellow, and burnished copper.
The tall grass in the meadow is turning gold, but there are still a few yellow wildflowers dotted among the grass.
It’s a beautiful day. The sun is shining, and
the salty tang of the Sound is in the air mixed with the scent of the coming fall.
It was such a tranquil and beautiful place.
And to think they were going to be living there.
The lane curves around, and their house comes into view.
Several large trucks, sides emblazoned with WALKER ENTERPRISE, are parked out front. The house is decked in scaffolding, and several workmen in hard hats are busy on the roof.
Dylan pulls up outside the portico and switches off the engine. Lorraine could sense his excitement.
“Let’s go find Xander.”
“Is he here?”
“I hope so. I’m paying him enough.”
Lorraine snort, and Dylan grins as they get out of the car.
“Yo, Dylan!" Xander shouts from somewhere.
They both glance around.
“Up here!” He’s up on the roof, waving down at them and beaming from ear to ear. “About time we saw you here. Stay where you are. I’ll be right down.”
Lorraine glanced at Dylan who shrugs. A few minutes later, Xander appears at the
front door.
“Hey.” He shakes Dylan's hand. “And how are you, pretty lady?” He picks up Lorraine and swings her around.
“Better, thanks,” she giggle breathlessly, her ribs protesting.
Dylan frowns at him, but Xander ignores him.
“Let’s head over to the site office. You’ll need one of these.” He taps his hard
hat.
The house is a shell. The floors are covered in a hard fibrous material that looked like burlap; some of the original walls have disappeared and new ones have
taken their place.
Xander lead them through, explaining what’s happening, while men—and a few women—work everywhere around them. Lorraine was relieved to see the stone staircase with its intricate iron balustrade is still in place and draped completely in white dustsheets.
In the main living area, the back wall has been removed to make way for Paula's glass wall, and work is beginning on the terrace. In spite of the mess, the view is still stunning.
The new work is sympathetic and in keeping with the oldworld charm of the house . . .
Paula's done well.
Xander patiently explains the processes and gives them a rough timeframe for each. He’s hoping they can be in by Christmas, although Dylan thinks this is optimistic.
Holy cow
Christmas overlooking the Sound.
Lorraine couldn't wait.
A bubble of excitement blooms inside her. She had flashes of them trimming an enormous tree while a copper-haired little boy looks on in wonder.
Xander finishes their tour in the kitchen. “I’ll leave you two to roam. Be careful. This is a building site.”
“Sure. Thanks, Xander,” Dylan murmurs, taking my hand. “Happy?” he asks once Xander had left them alone. She was gazing at this empty shell of a room and
wondering where she would hang the pepper pictures that they bought in France.
“Very. I love it. You?”
“Ditto.” He grins.
“Good. I was thinking of the pepper pictures in here.”
Dylan nods. "Hungry?” he asks.
“Hungry for what?” she whisper.
He smirks, his eyes darkening. Hope and desire unfurl in her veins.
“Food, Mrs. Walker.” And he plants a swift kiss on her lips.
She give him a faux pout and sigh. “Yes.”
“I thought you might like to eat al fresco.”
“In the meadow?” she ask.
He nods.
“Sure.” she grin.
“This will be a great place to raise a family,” he murmurs, gazing down at her.
Family! More than one? Dare she mention this now?
They head back outside into the warm fall afternoon.
“When are you going to tell your Mom?”
Dylan asks.
“Soon,” she murmur. “I thought about telling her this morning, but Dane really occupied me, I forgot .” she shrug remembering her cute baby and how she lad left him with the Nanny and Rosa.
Dylan nods and opens the hood of the R8.
Inside are a wicker picnic basket and the tartan blanket they bought in London.
“Come,” he says, taking the basket and blanket in one hand and holding the
other out to her. Together they walk into the meadow.
“Sure, Joe, go for it.” Dylan hangs up.
That’s the third call he’s taken during their picnic.
He’s kicked off his shoes and socks, and is watching her, arms on his raised knees. His jacket lies discarded on top of here, as they're warm in the sun. She lie beside him, stretched out on the picnic blanket, both of them surrounded by tall golden and green grass far from the noise at the house and hidden from the prying eyes of the construction workers.
They were in their own bucolic haven.
He feeds her another strawberry, and she chew and suck it gratefully, gazing at his darkening eyes.
“Tasty?” he whispers.
“Very.”
“Had enough?”
"Of strawberries, yes.”
His eyes glitter dangerously, and he grins.
"Rosa packs a mighty fine picnic,” he says.
“That she does,” she whisper.
Shifting suddenly, he lies down so his head is resting on her belly.
He closes his eyes and seems content.
She tangle her fingers in his hair.
He sighs heavily, then scowls and checks the number on the screen of his buzzing iphone.
He rolls his eyes and takes the call.
“Jeremy,” he snaps.
He tenses, listens for a second or two, then suddenly bolts upright.
“24-7 . . . Thanks,” he says through gritted teeth and hangs up.
The change in his mood is instant.
Gone is her teasing, flirtatious husband, replaced by a cold, calculating master of the universe.
He narrows his eyes for a moment then gives her a cool, chilling smile.
A shiver runs down her back.
He picks up his iphone and presses a speed dial. “Joe, how much stock do we own in Burton breweries?” He kneels up. Her scalp prickles.
Oh no, what’s this?
“So, consolidate the shares into GEH, then fire the board . . . except the
CEO . . . I don’t give a fuck . . . I hear you, just do it . . . thank you . . . keep me
informed.” He hangs up, and gazes at her impassively for a moment.
Holy shit!
Dylan is mad.
“What’s happened?”
"Burton,” he murmurs.
“Burton? One of your Father's partners?”
“The same. He’s the one who helped George escape months ago.”
She gape at Dylan in shock.
His mouth is pressed in a hard line.
“Well—he’ll look like an idiot,” she murmur, dismayed.
“I mean, George committed a crime. He wanted me to lose my baby so he could get your inheritance.”
Dylan's eyes narrow and he smirks. “Fair point well made, Mrs. Walker.”
“What did you just do?” she kneel, facing him.
“I fucked him over.”
Oh!
“Um . . . that seems a little impulsive,” she murmur.
“I’m an in-the-moment kind of guy.”
“I’m aware of that.”
His eyes narrow and his lips thin. “I’ve had this plan in my back pocket for a
while,” he says dryly.
She frown. “Oh?”
He pauses, seeming to weigh something in his mind, then takes a deep breath.
“Several years back, when I was twenty-one, Burton beat his wife to a pulp. He
broke her jaw, her left arm, and four of her ribs because she was fucking my Father.” His eyes harden. “And now he he tries to help a man who tried to ruin me, and my family and hurt my wife. I’ve had enough. I think it’s payback time. They were all just wolves following my Father just to take what he could give them because he was at the top of the food chain, but non of them really liked him”
She blanch.
Holy shit. “Fair point well made, Mr. Walker,” she whisper.
“Lorraine, this is what I do. I’m not usually motivated by revenge, but I cannot let
him get away with this. What he did to you... well, you should have pressed
charges, but you didn’t. That was your prerogative."
“But he’s seriously crossed the line with George. Burton made this personal by
going after my family. I’m going to crush him, break up his company right under
his nose, and sell the pieces to the highest bidder. I am going to bankrupt him.”
Oh . . .
“Besides.” Dylan smirks. “We’ll make good money out of the deal.”
Lorraine stare into blazing blue eyes that soften suddenly. “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispers.
“You didn’t,” she lie.
He arches a brow, amused.
“You just took me by surprise,” she whisper, then swallow.
Dylan is really quite scary sometimes.
He brushes his lips against hers. “I will do anything to keep you safe. Keep
my family safe. Keep our little one safe,” he murmurs and splays his hand out over her waist in a gentle caress.
"I know and believe you will, Dylan" she kisses him back and they both continue making out on the blanket.
Oh . . .
Dylan gazes down at her, his eyes darkening. His lips part as he inhales and, in a deliberate move, the tips of his fingers brush against her sex.
Holy shit.
Desire detonates like an incendiary device igniting her bloodstream.
She grasp his head, her fingers weaving into his hair, and tug hard so her lips
find his.
He gasps, surprised by her assault, giving her tongue free passage into his
mouth.
He groans and kisses her back, his lips and tongue hungry for hers, and for a moment they consume each other, lost in tongues and lips and breaths and
sweet, sweet sensation as they rediscover each other.
"I think we better go home right now" Lorraine breathe out almost breathless
"You're right, Mrs Walker" Dylan smile mischievously but went ahead to give his wife a promise of what they'll enjoy when they arrived.
His lips still had her profane taste, even as he drove them home.