Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance

by Jennifer St George

  ‘I know I haven’t explained the significance of our current project, but it’s important . . . vital to the company’s future.’

  ‘Our son is playing cricket out there.’ She flung her finger in Daniel’s direction. ‘His first game ever.’

  ‘There’ll be other games.’

  Incredulity spread like fire through her veins and burned all the way to her toes. ‘But there’ll never be another first game.’ She didn’t mean to yell, but the angry words flew out like bats from a cave at dusk. A number of people nearby glanced in her direction.

  Something flared in his eyes but was gone in an instant.

  ‘I can’t stay and that’s the end of it,’ he said, his voice annoyingly calm and controlled.

  Well, he was right about that. It was the end. The end of any notions Sarah had about Blake’s ability to be a good father. He didn’t care. This would be the beginning of the inevitable series of letdowns Blake would inflict before he eventually left them altogether. It was a pattern that infected the lives of Walker women. Her grandfather had left. Her father had left. And Daniel’s father, well, he was following a well-worn, predictable path.

  ‘Go,’ she said, turning from him, folding her arms and trying to concentrate on the game. Tears prickled in her eyes. Tears of lost hope and aching disappointment.

  When her father had left, she’d been devastated. At the time, she’d wondered if she’d ever breathe again. Her chest had clamped tight with pain for months . . . years, if she was honest with herself. She didn’t want that for Daniel. Her mum had been right: men take what they want and then . . .

  ‘It’s just a kids’ game.’

  Sarah fought herself to say no more, but the words couldn’t be contained. ‘This is why you shouldn’t be involved in Daniel’s life. You’ll let him down. Let me down.’

  ‘You’re completely overreacting.’

  It was as though the sky was painted red. ‘I wish you’d never come back into my life.’

  ‘Clearly, you’re upset, but I can’t talk now. I’ll see you tonight and we’ll go out for dinner. Somewhere nice. Just the three of us,’ he said, patting her arm.

  She pulled away from him. His flippant dismissal fuelled her fury.

  ‘That’s your solution for everything, isn’t it?’ She sounded hysterical but she didn’t care. ‘Throw money, luxury, toys at the problem. Buy your way out of any emotional dramas.’

  ‘I’m going to leave now before you say something you might regret.’

  ‘You’re my only regret.’ She hurled the words like a dagger.

  Blake stood rigid. ‘I’ll see you tonight.’ He turned and walked back to the car.

  Kids’ shouts whipped Sarah’s attention back to the pitch. Fielders were all running towards Daniel. The hairs on her arms stood straighter than the rigid wooden wickets.

  What’s wrong?

  She raced to the rail surrounding the field. Was he hurt? The kids crowded around her son. They slapped him on the back. Daniel held his hand aloft. He gripped the red cricket ball. The batsman walked from the field. Applause sounded around the grounds. Her heart rate slowed. Daniel’s first catch . . . and she’d missed it.

  Her gaze flicked to Blake’s retreating figure. He was striding towards the car, his phone jammed against his ear. He’d missed it, too.

  Blake dropped his mobile on his desk and sat down. The drive into London had been slow and frustrating. The light drizzle that had begun about ten minutes from his office was now a torrent. The clouds swirled low and black. The sky matched his mood: black, stormy and threatening to get worse.

  Henry walked into the office and shut the door.

  ‘How much do they know?’ Blake asked.

  ‘Enough to know that the leak is coming from inside the company,’ Henry said.

  Blake’s stomach felt as though it had been wedged in a clamp and the handle twisted, hard and fast. They’d had leaks before, but nothing that would threaten a project of this magnitude.

  Blake forced Sarah and Daniel from his mind. Their very presence threatened his focus. Single-minded attention was essential or things were missed. In a few short months he’d launch Project Everest and he’d have achieved his objective. Delivered on his vow. Then . . . Then he could concentrate on his newfound family. But not now. Not now.

  ‘Any thoughts as to who?’ Blake asked.

  ‘My guess is someone in marketing. Vericon Tech don’t have any specific product details, but they know enough to realise it’s something big. Very big. And, they know the launch date.’

  ‘Damn it.’ Blake slammed his fist on the desk.

  ‘And there’s this.’ Henry handed Blake a printout from the internet. ‘It’s minor at the moment. Just chatter on some environmental websites, but it could spill over into mainstream media.’

  Blake scanned the headline: HUNT-F TECH DUMPS ORANGUTAN FUNDING. Brilliant.

  ‘Who knew about the funding cut?’

  ‘The Board, PR and . . .’ Henry waited a heartbeat. ‘Sarah.’

  His ribs flexed inwards. Sarah wouldn’t have leaked it. Blake turned and looked out at London spread before him, all grey and dull in the storm. Would she?

  ‘Who’s your money on?’ Blake asked.

  ‘PR or Sarah.’

  Blake’s mouth felt dry and gritty. He could do with a whisky. He didn’t want to believe Sarah could do something like this . . . But . . .

  ‘We know Diana’s the only person in PR with any knowledge of Everest at this stage of development,’ Henry continued. ‘She’s solid, but the new woman, Katie.’ He checked his notes. ‘Katie Wilson, I’m going to check her out.’

  ‘She briefed Sarah on the Sanctuary funding cut so she has full knowledge of that situation.’

  ‘This is the type of PR mess that can suck up a lot of resources and sully our reputation before the launch,’ Henry said.

  Blake sat and played a five-note forte-piano scale on the desk with his fingers. A strategy built systematically in his mind. ‘We could use this to our advantage,’ he said slowly. The final planks of his plan slotted perfectly into place.

  ‘I’m listening,’ Henry said, taking the seat across the desk.

  ‘I’m helping Sarah develop a sustainable funding model by developing an orangutan game.’

  Henry nodded.

  ‘Let’s use that as a red herring,’ Blake said. ‘Bring Katie in on the project and let her believe this is the big confidential project. Give her some information we give to no one else. If we put the right people and enough funding behind it, Vericon and any other competitors sniffing around might take the bait.’

  ‘I like it,’ Henry said. ‘That’ll have them looking in all the wrong directions.’

  ‘I’ll set it up now,’ Blake said, reaching for his phone. His mind seized another possibility. ‘And . . . being on the other side of the world . . .’

  ‘You mean Brunei is the perfect place for the global launch of Hunt-F Tech’s brilliant new ground-breaking project.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘The perfect project for a promising new executive from PR,’ said Henry.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Let me know when you’ve got everything in place.’ Henry hoisted his battered satchel onto his shoulder. ‘I’m flying out to Brunei tonight.’

  Tendrils of disquiet wound up Blake’s spine. He replaced the phone and gave Henry his full attention. ‘Anything interesting to report yet on that front?’

  ‘I’ve uncovered a few avenues of enquiry. You’ll have a strong case.’

  ‘Excellent.’ But for some reason it didn’t feel excellent.

  ‘Back in a few days.’ Henry left, closing the door behind him.

  Blake shifted in his chair. Investigating Sarah felt wrong, very wrong. He pulled his laptop towards him. But Sarah’s inability to cooperate or to be reasonable forced him into this illicit action. He leaned back in his chair, running through the steps he’d need to throw the competition off the scent.
He’d have to cancel dinner with Sarah and Daniel. She’d have to get used to the fact that running a multi-billion-dollar company wouldn’t always fit in with their best-laid plans. But even as he thought the words, a cliché swirled in his mind complete with the words ‘hell’ and ‘freezing’.

  Sarah threw the dice. Ten. Double fives. She moved her little silver boot around the Monopoly board.

  ‘Mayfair,’ Daniel said, without a note of interest. ‘Are you going to buy it?’

  ‘Do you want it?’ Sarah asked.

  Daniel’s gaze snapped up from the board. ‘You don’t want to sell it to me, Mum. You have Park Lane. You’d have a set. Are you even trying?’

  Sarah rubbed her eyes. Staying furious was exhausting. ‘Sorry, darling, I’m just tired. It’s time for bed.’

  Daniel glanced towards the entrance to the apartment. ‘Blake might be home soon. We could start a new game when he gets here.’

  Pain twisted sharply in her stomach at the sound of hope in his voice. Daniel had tried to hide how hurt he’d been at Blake’s absence. She’d placated him with Blake’s plans for a special dinner, only to have to deliver more disappointment.

  ‘He said he’d be really late. Bedtime,’ she said, holding out her hand. Daniel took it and Sarah pulled him up from the couch.

  A few minutes later she had him tucked in and she sat on the edge of the bed.

  ‘I wonder how Sultan is,’ Daniel said, his voice wrung with weariness.

  ‘Tino said he was much better,’ Sarah said, taking her son’s hand and holding it.

  ‘He’ll be missing playing hide and seek.’

  Sultan’s favourite game was finding Daniel. Daniel would hide under a moss-coloured blanket just outside the main jungle play area. Sultan loved seeking him out and pulling off the blanket. Ape and child could play the game for hours.

  ‘I really miss him, Mum.’ His mournful face broke her heart. Blake’s actions had brought on this bout of homesickness.

  She squeezed his hand. ‘I know you do, darling.’

  ‘Do you think everyone will be okay without us?’ Daniel’s voice wobbled slightly.

  She stroked his cheek. ‘I know they’re missing us, but a couple of new volunteers are arriving, so they’ll be fine. Remember, we’re doing good work here in London. We’re getting new funding. Off to sleep now.’

  Daniel rolled over. Sarah patted his shoulder until his breathing sounded even and peaceful. She stared at his now serene face. Fury built and her muscles coiled. The ease with which Blake had dumped them for work was staggering.

  She walked back to her room, shut the door and waited. Half an hour later she heard Blake arrive. She didn’t move. He could come to her. She picked up a magazine and sat on the bed, feet up.

  Twenty minutes later and still Blake didn’t come. Yes, it was childish sitting there waiting for an apology, but she was damned if she was going to make the first move. First he’d left the cricket match and then he’d bailed on dinner. She was exhausted from controlling her rage. Just wait until he opened that door. She flipped over the page. It tore.

  Another five minutes ticked by. She hadn’t read a word and the glossy images blurred. Muffled sounds drifted from the living room. Tossing the magazine onto her bedside table, she walked to the door and pressed her ear to it. She felt stupid and foolish. Being around Blake had her acting crazy. She listened. Was the bastard actually watching TV?

  She paced the room, her teeth at risk of being ground to a few specks of calcium. He’d know she was awake. He’d see the light under her door. She checked her watch again. Nine-thirty. Why didn’t he knock on her door? She stared at the solid, silent door, amazed the room wasn’t filling with the steam she felt was shooting out of her ears.

  Maybe he thought he’d get away with his behaviour. Maybe he wasn’t even sorry. Well, he soon would be. She flung open the door and marched into the living room. The computer animation on the TV screen stopped her short. Sultan, Daniel’s favourite orangutan, loped across the screen in digital. An animated version of Daniel raced into the picture. She gasped. Sultan pelted Daniel with durians – that yellow, stinky, thorny fruit, the orangutan’s favourite. Daniel returned fire.

  Excitement. Surprise. Amazement. Delight. An array of cheerfully pleasant sensations flooded her bloodstream, extinguishing her planned assault.

  ‘What . . . How?’ Sarah didn’t want to be interested. She wanted to shout. ‘What is that?’ she asked, punching a hole in the air with her finger.

  ‘It’s your new game. Well, it’s a prototype of your new game,’ Blake answered, without taking his eyes from the screen. ‘Orangutan Food Fight.’

  She watched for a minute. Hell, even she could tell it was something special. But damn it, if he thought some stupid computer game would distract her from discussing his wrongdoing . . .

  ‘Great,’ she said, throwing her hands in the air. ‘You’ve reduced the plight of one of the planet’s most endangered species to slapstick.’ She walked closer. The graphics were incredible. Intermittently, facts about the predicament of the orangutans popped into the dialogue between the characters. ‘At least you got the food right,’ she said, hating that her words were infused with a note of grudging admiration.

  ‘We pride ourselves on getting the details right. Those durians look like buggers.’ He sent her one of his bone-melting smiles.

  That smile thawed her fury. ‘Hell on the outside and heaven inside,’ Sarah muttered. Hang on. She didn’t want to talk about fruit. She planted her feet, folded her arms across her chest. ‘You can’t walk in here and think everything’s hunky-dory.’

  ‘Listen, we’ve both had a big day. Before you shout at me, come and look at this properly,’ he said, patting the couch next to him. ‘If you hate it, then you can tear strips off me until the sun comes up.’

  She turned back to the screen. The Daniel character flipped in the air and lobbed a durian, knocking Sultan out of a tree. A smile threatened to break through her grim mask. ‘Don’t think all this flash is going to help you.’

  ‘I wouldn’t dare,’ he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her down on the couch. His touch evaporated the last of her hostility. ‘Let’s book a shouting match for later. Watch carefully.’ He thrust a controller into her hand.

  It took Sarah five minutes to master the controller, but once she did, the mechanics of the game came easily. And it was fun. Great fun. God, when was the last time she’d had unadulterated fun? She was out of practice in the fun department.

  It took Blake no time at all to whip her arse. She clicked the ‘play again’ button.

  ‘So what happened today?’ Sarah asked, surprised at her calm voice.

  ‘Something pretty serious.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘An issue with production.’ He misjudged a jump and his character fell to a vulnerable position. By some miracle, her character hurled Blake’s from the tree and she scored ten thousand bonus points. ‘Got ya,’ she said, laughing. It felt like the first real laugh she’d had since she’d left Brunei. Her cheeks flushed with a surprise rush of endorphins.

  Blake grinned at her, his eyes glittering with challenge. He studied the screen and expertly manoeuvred his character to retaliate.

  A strange competitive streak bubbled up in Sarah. She blasted Blake’s character with a barrage of the spiky fruit. ‘Take that.’ Blake’s character fell from the tree and Sarah won.

  ‘No . . . no way.’ Blake tugged the controller from her and pinned her down with his body. ‘Now you’re going to get it.’ He drew both her hands over her head and held them there easily with one his own. He poised his other hand over the sensitive skin under her arms.

  ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘Please, Blake. I’m really ticklish.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, his voice low and wicked and provocative. ‘I remember.’ He slid his finger lightly up the side of her chest. His touch left a trail of desire that radiated across her breasts and settled hot and wanting in her nipp
les. They begged for his touch. For his fingers to brush and circle and caress.

  ‘Stop, stop.’ But she didn’t mean it. This felt good, too.

  ‘On one condition,’ he said, holding his hand threateningly close to the tickle zone.

  ‘Anything,’ she breathed.

  ‘Kiss me.’

  She didn’t argue. Blake waited but no protest came. His body already ablaze with longing, he needed no more encouragement, thought or invitation. He took full possession of her mouth like a man starved. And he had been starved. No woman had come within a thousand miles of what he’d felt with Sarah. He released her arms and placed his hands on her cheeks. He delved deeper with his tongue, tasting her sweetness. She whimpered under him, driving him wild. He didn’t trust himself to move. He wanted her closer, deeper . . . to brand her as his own. His. Forever.

  Her hands ran up his back, bringing their bodies closer. He shuddered with need. He trailed his hand down her neck, her chest. Slowly, slowly. He didn’t want to rush her, but an urgent fire raged inside. He skimmed the side of her breast with his fingers and she pulled away from his lips with a gasp. Her breath came hot and fast and ragged.

  He pulled back and dealt quickly with the top three buttons of her dress. She watched him, her eyes half closed, her face flushed.

  ‘You’re so beautiful.’ God, he wanted her.

  He slid his hand under her bra and blood and lust rushed to his groin.

  ‘Mum.’ Daniel’s small, frightened voice siphoned the sensuality like a midwestern American twister. Sarah snapped rigid. She roughly pushed Blake from her body and fumbled with her buttons. He understood her reaction, but it hurt all the same.

  Daniel stood in the entrance to the hallway.

  ‘Mum,’ he called again, his voice heavy with sleep and dismay.

  Sarah ran to him and cuddled him close. ‘Yes, darling. I’m here. What’s wrong?’

  ‘I had a bad dream.’

  ‘Oh, darling. It’s okay.’

  Blake quickly walked to his son and knelt down beside him. He didn’t know what to do. Would he scare the child if he touched him? To Daniel he was still a relative stranger.