The Billionaire's Revenge: Billionaire Brothers Billionaire Bachelors (Tycoon Billionaires Book 3)

by Farrell, Julie

“Yeah. I was studying in New York, so it was easy, you know.” Her body stung with a wave of sadness. “It’s like the end of an era. I’ll go see them first thing – it’s a real shame, especially now they’re running out of money. Talk about abandoning a sinking ship.”

  “Maybe there’s something we can do to help?”

  “We?”

  He smirked. “Well, you know… you…”

  Eleanor grinned at him. He was actually very sweet under that rockstar exterior. She knew he’d organised a charity concert for his birthday just before they’d made the big time. There was obviously a generous heart inside that gorgeous chest of his.

  “Anyway,” she said with a sigh, “what are you doing tomorrow?”

  “Oh same as usual. Annoying Matthew; feeling smug that I’ve screwed his girl again.”

  She whipped her head up to look at him. Oh my god, had he been stringing her along simply to get one up on Matthew?

  He kissed her on the forehead. “Just kidding. Well, not really, but that’s not my reason for being here with you, okay.”

  She prodded his sculpted chest. “Good.”

  He kissed her hard on the lips. “But it would make me feel even better if I managed to make you come again before I see him tomorrow. How about it?”

  Lust surged in her thighs, replacing the tender mood. She grinned. “I think that would be absolutely wonderful!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Breaking up was never going to be easy. Eleanor’s nerves spattered through her like the icy drizzle that clattered off her umbrella – as she click-clacked in her heels down the wintry street. She hoped this morning’s ‘goodbye’ would prepare her for when she imminently told Matthew to take a hike. She’d made up her mind: regardless of what was happening with Joseph Quinlan – which was probably nothing – she needed to get out of her current relationship.

  She’d almost broken it off with Matthew this morning, but she’d decided to wait. She was still buzzing from her glorious tryst with Joseph last night, and she didn’t want her confessions of infidelity to accidentally slip out and make things even worse between Matthew and Joseph. But Joseph could hold his own – Eleanor knew that from experience.

  She grinned. The freezing air bit into her pantyhose, numbing her legs, but she glowed within – radiating an internal sunshine that Joseph had put there. Despite the freezing rain, her body sparkled with excitement today – a lust for life. But her heart was a bundle of confusion; right and wrong were twisting and turning this way and that. She knew it was wrong to be screwing Joseph, but it felt so right. And she knew it was right to resign from The Big Society, because they couldn’t offer her any career prospects – but the thought of it left her feeling empty and sad. She halted at the entrance of The Big Society’s offices and rested her hand on the door handle, preparing herself to tell her friends about her new job. She knew she shouldn’t even be here – she needed to get on with her story about Pierre – but some of her best moments over the last decade had been in these offices, and she felt she owed Sasha and Ashok a proper goodbye – they’d nurtured and encouraged her ever since the day she marched in as a headstrong fifteen-year-old, offering them her budding journalistic services for free.

  They’d paid her, of course – for every article. But now it was time to say goodbye…

  The Big Society’s building was nothing like New Scape’s Press HQ. It was in a parade of stores on the outskirts of town, nestled between a bakery and a thrift shop. It had been a café before Sasha and Ashok had transformed it into a small-press office. The wooden floorboards could probably do with replacing, and there was the crack in the huge bay window at the front that needed fixing. But it was warm and homey, and as Eleanor stepped inside, the sweet-honey vibes caressed her shivering body.

  The place was abuzz as always. The front section of the building housed the main office, where Sasha and Ashok wrote their weekly stories – and the archaic printing press was out back in the old industrial kitchen. There was still a sink and a huge fridge back there, which made it rather surreal, but it seemed to work okay. Eleanor closed the door behind her – shutting out the cold – and gazed at Sasha, who was sitting at her rickety desk taking a call. Sasha was always cheerful – the antithesis of Blair Robertson. She glanced up and waved at Eleanor, throwing her a maternal grin. Sadness spiralled in her chest at what she was about to do.

  Sasha wound up her call and strode over to hug Eleanor. “Hey, sweet-cheeks. Come and warm up by the heater. It’s freezing today, huh?”

  Eleanor stepped back and gazed into Sasha’s kind eyes. “Sasha, I’ve got some news…”

  Sasha gasped. “Oh, so have we – guess who’s just showed up to give us an exclusive!”

  Eleanor shrugged. “Who?”

  Sasha opened her mouth to explain, but Eleanor’s attention was grasped by a movement by the kitchen door. She watched as Ashok stepped through holding a mug of coffee. Followed by Joseph Quinlan.

  Joseph smiled warmly. “Morning, Eleanor. I’ve come to offer my services.”

  She stared at him, trying to steady her wobbling knees. “Uh… for what?”

  “An interview for the paper. Ashok and I were just discussing what sort of photograph he should take for the front page.”

  Sasha threw a boisterous arm around Eleanor’s shoulders. “Joseph said he’d like you to interview him, sweetie. Apparently you mentioned our humble publication to him. Thank you!”

  “This should be so great for our sales,” Ashok said in his mellow Indian accent. “Think of all those extra editions. The homeless will be thanking you for bringing us this gift of Joseph Quinlan!”

  She rolled her eyes. “Gift of Joseph Quinlan… Jesus.”

  Joseph winked at her. “I was inspired by what Eleanor said about how one person can make a difference. I’m beginning to believe her.”

  “She’s a great persuader,” Sasha said.

  Joseph gazed into Eleanor’s eyes. “She is. She knows how good it feels to use her talents to help others.”

  Eleanor glanced at her watch. She knew precisely what Joseph was doing – trying to convince her to give up her dream job. “I’m sorry, I have to go.”

  “Go?” Ashok asked. “But you’ve only just arrived.”

  “I know… I came here to tell you I’ve been offered a job with News Scape. I’m working on a front-page story.”

  Sasha’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, Eleanor! That’s wonderful – you’ve had your eye on that broadsheet for so long. Matthew’s contacts finally came good, huh?”

  Sasha threw her arms around her and hugged her tight. Eleanor flinched and pulled away, feeling like a fraud. “It’s not for the broadsheet. Not yet. Robertson’s testing me by making me write a story for his trashy tabloid. Joseph’s trying to distract me.”

  Joseph shrugged. “If you’d prefer to go there, feel free. But Ashok was just saying if we do the interview now, we’ll make this week’s edition. It’s up to you, of course, but wouldn’t you rather stay here with me… with us? And then I’ll give you a ride to work. How about it?”

  Eleanor dumped her purse on a spare desk. “Right, fine – let’s make it quick. I’m sure you need to get to work too, Joseph?”

  “Actually, I’ve told my manager I’m sick.”

  “Sick?”

  “Yeah – sick of the sight of him.”

  Eleanor smirked. “Seems a common ailment.”

  Joseph grinned. “You got it too, huh? Listen, I was thinking we could make it more interesting if I was to interview you. I could be your guest reporter this week – how about it, Sasha?”

  “I think that sounds like a great idea! Why don’t you go out back for some privacy?”

  Eleanor shot Sasha a look of disapproval. Was she purposely trying to match-make? Did she know what was going on between her and Joseph? She knew Joseph wasn’t the bragging type, so perhaps Sasha could tell from Eleanor’s demeanour how much she desired him. Much as she was trying to resist, the truth was
he made her body tingle all over with sizzling heat.

  Joseph grabbed a notebook and pen, then he picked up two mismatched wooden chairs and carried them through to the kitchen, so Eleanor followed. The kitchen was as rundown as the rest of the building – the red floor tiles were cracked, the white walls were grubby, and the old industrial extractor fans had ceased working years ago. The huge jet-engine-sized printing press was motionless at the moment, but when it was in action, Eleanor loved to sit and watch its mechanisms slide back and forth, clunking hypnotically to produce page after page of news, filling the room with the smell of fresh print. It was like a giant metallic heart pumping the lifeblood into The Big Society.

  Eleanor sat herself down on one of the wobbly chairs, and Joseph sat opposite, making sure their knees were touching.

  “Hi,” he said, grinning.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Trying to stop you from ruining Pierre’s life – and helping your newspaper at the same time.”

  She glared at him. “That’s what I thought.”

  He reached out and rubbed her knee, pushing up the hem of her skirt with his gorgeous fingers. “Hey, do you think it would be appropriate for me to kiss you passionately back here? Would it compromise our reporter/interviewee relationship?”

  She couldn’t help but smirk. “Shut up.”

  “Okay, I’ll kiss you after. Let’s begin.” He hovered the pen above the notepad, and flashed her a smouldering glance. “So… have you ever been interviewed before?”

  “No.”

  “Alright, well just relax – be yourself. I won’t write anything you don’t want me to.”

  She sighed. “Okay. Come on.”

  “My first question: what are your thoughts on the current state of the economy?”

  She frowned. “Is that really your first question?”

  “No… actually, my first question is: when are you breaking up with your asshole fiancé?”

  She suppressed her grin. “Tonight.”

  His face flickered with a smile, but he remained professional. “I see. Let me just write that down.” He jotted a few notes on the pad, but she couldn’t see what he was writing. “Good. Next question.” He paused to deliver a seductive gaze directly into her soul. “What do you want more than anything right now?”

  She cleared her throat. “What do I want more than anything?”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “Well… I’d love to be lying on a beach in the sunshine. Out of this winter gloom. Problem-free… in the arms of someone special.”

  “Oh… and is there anyone special in your life at the moment?”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “And can you reveal the name of the lucky guy?”

  “Just some gorgeous rockstar who won’t leave me alone.”

  “He won’t leave you alone?”

  “No.”

  “But you like it?”

  She forced herself to play it cool. “I guess.”

  “Is he good in bed?”

  She burst into laughter. “He’s okay.”

  “Okay!” He glanced at his notebook. “I’ll write ‘He’s the best lover I’ve ever had’.”

  Eleanor chuckled. “Alright. Any more questions?”

  “Yeah. I was wondering how you managed to sleep last night?”

  “Fine thanks, why?”

  “Well, I don’t think I’d be able to sleep, knowing I was plotting the downfall of a minor soap-star, just so I could impress a complete asshole who gets rich from reporting bullshit and stirring up hate.”

  She gazed at Joseph, feeling her heart pound with guilt. “It’s my dream… my dream career.”

  “It was probably Pierre’s dream to become an actor. It was my dream to become a musician. I didn’t expect my personal business to be shared with the world.”

  Eleanor gazed at her knees. “I know… And I didn’t sleep well, okay. In fact, I slept terrible.”

  Joseph fell serious. “It’s because you’re a good person, Eleanor… Will you re-consider your decision to work for Blair Robertson?”

  “Is that an official question?”

  “No. Just one for you to think about.”

  “Okay, I’ll think about it. Anything else?”

  “Yeah, just one more question.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  He reached out and linked his fingers through hers. “I know it’s early days, but… would you like to come to dinner at my brother’s house tonight? I’d love everyone to meet you.”

  She grinned, feeling deeply honoured. “Thank you. I’d love to meet your family.”

  They held eye contact, allowing the significance of the moment to swirl around them and bind them together.

  Eleanor wanted to kiss him, but she had a feeling Sasha and Ashok were listening at the door. “So… is that the end of the interview?”

  “Yeah. This interviewer stuff is harder than I realised. I don’t think I’ve got anything useful down.”

  She stood up to look. “Show me.”

  He turned the notepad towards her. He’d sketched a picture of a guitar.

  She laughed. “That would be very impressive if this was an art class.”

  He reached out and drew her onto his lap, sending molten lust through her body. “I guess you’d better interview me,” he said. “You’re better at it than I am.”

  She kissed him on the lips as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “And I think the readers might prefer hearing about you.”

  He nuzzled her neck, turning her on. “You’re not really going back to Press HQ, are you?”

  She sighed. “It’s the only way he’ll let me work for his broadsheet. This tabloid thing, it’s just one story.”

  “I know, but there must be a better way to get a story on the front page without dragging Pierre down. Can’t you go back to the drawing board and think of something else?”

  “God, I wish you weren’t so bloody moral, Joseph Quinlan!”

  He kissed her. “Nah, you wish you weren’t. I’m starting to get to know who you really are, Ellie.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yeah. And you’re helping me to rediscover who I am. Just by being you.”

  She grinned. “That’s such a nice thing to say. And I feel the same. Being with you… It’s like I’m softening, but in a good way. Like sponge-cake.”

  He laughed at the strange analogy, then he fell serious. “I just want to… I don’t know… reconnect with some lost part of me. When I’m with you I feel like that part of me is pulled to the surface. You make me feel myself.”

  They both laughed at his last comment. “I’m sure I have that effect on lots of men!”

  “I’ve no doubt!” He hugged her tight. “Come on; let’s get this interview done for real, then I’ll give you a ride.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Eleanor sat in Joseph’s toasty four-by-four as he pulled into the parking garage at his apartment. She twisted to face him. “What are we doing here? You said you’d give me a ride.”

  He threw her a grin. “I plan to.”

  She playfully hit him on the arm. “Take me to work – to News Scape. I promise I’ll try to come up with some alternative ideas for my scoop. This is technically kidnapping, you know.”

  “Well, maybe that’s your story! Rockstar abducts journalist and takes her to heaven and back!”

  He laughed and Eleanor chuckled. A terrible thought flashed through her mind. Joseph Quinlan in a kiss-and-tell exclusive… No, Eleanor, don’t even contemplate it.

  She watched him back-up into his space like a pro. He was so hot and skilful. She tingled with lust as he leaned over and kissed her passionately. “God I can’t wait to get inside your panties! Come on.”

  She stared at him pensively for a moment, then she climbed out of the car with terrible thoughts of betrayal still rushing through her mind. He seemed to trust her one-hundred percent. He knew she was a reporter and that she wanted a sensational scoop, bu
t he trusted her… And that really meant a lot – to be trusted like that. She refused to betray his trust.

  He draped his arm around her, as they strode past the security guard on the door, then he kissed her as the elevator took them up towards his room. “I think I’m addicted to your lips.”

  She grinned. She sensed he was falling for her – or at least that’s how it seemed. And she was definitely falling for him. She allowed her desire to swirl up as she shoved away any treacherous thoughts. There was no way she could ever betray this gorgeous man. Not even for the scoop of the century.

  They strode quickly down the corridor and burst into the apartment, already kissing as they slammed the front door behind them. Joseph pinned her roughly against the door, kissing her hard and pressing his cock against her, letting her know his intentions. Lust shuddered through her in waves and she gasped to catch her breath – all thoughts of getting back to work forgotten. His fit body covered hers completely as he held her firmly against the door – dominating her entirely. He kissed her and grabbed her wrists, raising her arms above her head and stretching her body; making her feel sensuous.

  “You’re my girl now.” He wrapped the fingers of one of his strong hands around both her wrists and held them together – leaving one hand free to do whatever he wanted, while keeping her firmly in place.

  He gazed down into her eyes and grinned. “Fuck time,” he said, as if it was the most romantic thing in the world.

  She laughed and nodded her enthusiasm. He kissed her passionately on the lips – then on the neck and collarbone, making her groan. She glanced over his shoulder through half-closed eyes, and vaguely took in the room. There was a fallen lamp on the bookshelf, next to a broken vase. Wait… that wasn’t right… Terror replaced her arousal.

  “Oh god, Joseph,” she gasped.

  “Yes, babe!”

  “No, wait. Stop.”

  He let go of her wrists. “What?”

  “Turn around.”

  He laughed. “I was about to say that to you!”

  “No, seriously….Turn around.”

  He frowned and turned, and they both surveyed the scene. The place had been ransacked – the couches had been upturned, the closet doors yanked open, and Joseph’s possessions strewn about the carpet.