Joel looked at his son and gave him a proud nod, a half-smile. ‘Nan told me this morning Hayley’s regrouping. I'm going over there later; I'll see if she wants to talk.'
Skandar dropped his head into his hands, and Joel put his arm around him. Kit sat forward.
‘So what can we do? What with this, the murder, Quilla’s stabbing, this family has been through the mill. It’s already impacted on my work – not that I don’t realize how much worse it’s been for you all,’ he added, hurriedly.
‘Look…we call it what it was – a disgusting invasion of two people’s privacy, call the person who did it scum, say we’ll spend every penny, do everything to bring that person to justice.’ Ran let out a tense sigh. ‘I could do with a drink.’
‘Good thing I brought you some single malt back from Scotland then,’ said a familiar voice.
They all turned around in surprise. Grady Mallory, his grin wide, raised his hand. ‘Hey, folks. What did I miss?’
Kit Mallory went back to his hotel. Unlike his brothers, he didn’t own a home in Seattle, preferring to be in L.A. It was more convenient for parties and attending red carpet events, he told them, but over the years he'd begun to feel the disconnect, and it had made him resentful, even if it was his own doing.
He gave Cherry, his p.a., the night off and ordered room service. He sat down and flicked on the t.v., not really watching it.
He shouldn’t have insulted Skandar’s girl – that was wrong. He’d just come from a meeting with his people and found out he was being dropped from the Oscar presenting roster – humiliating when he’d already announced it. To do damage control, he had to agree to appear in a British singer’s music video – filming at the same time as the Oscars. It gave him a good reason to miss the Oscars without losing face.
Trouble was the singer herself. Bo Kennedy. They'd clashed once before over Twitter over a throwaway remark he'd made about…God, he couldn't even remember now. Bo, a no-nonsense Londoner with strong feminist credentials, had ripped into him….eviscerated him and done it with a great deal of humor. He had a grudging respect for her. She wasn’t like all the cookie cutter Barbie dolls clogging up the music; Bo Kennedy had the soul of Billie Holiday inside her and the voice to match. Everyone loved Bo. She’d bucked the trend of stick-thin singers by remaining curvy – by Hollywood’s standards she was on her way to being obese but in real world terms, her curves were the stuff of Marilyn Monroe and Jayne Mansfield and many a man’s fantasies.
Her people had reached out to him to be in her video…the pitch being he would play the handsome rogue boyfriend she was about to leave in a very public, very embarrassing fashion. He'd said no at first – actually; it was more like ‘Fuck, no, with that ballbreaker?’ - But when he thought about it, there was something that made him laugh about the offer. It was as if she was challenging him to prove he was the douchebag she thought he was. So when the whole Skandar/Murder Suspect/Sex Tape debacle had forced his hand…
Shit. His guilt over abandoning his family had only gotten worse when Grady had shown up. Of all his brothers, Grady was the one who never put a foot wrong in his father’s eyes. Mostly, that was because…Grady never put a foot wrong. He was solid, dependable. Kit had always resented him because Grady had been in love with Kit's wife, Asia. To be fair to Grady – he had met Asia first and when he had brought her – just as a friend – to a family barbecue, Kit had taken one look at the gorgeous young woman and made his move. Grady had forgiven him, but it didn't stop Kit being paranoid every time the golden boy was around Asia.
Stop going over the same crap, he told himself. He was rethinking the interview with Skandar and Diane Sawyer – maybe it would be good to do and act righteously indignant – especially when it came to the filming of a vulnerable young woman. Yeah, perhaps.
His food arrived, and he ate quickly, showered and went to bed. In the morning he would get Cherry to confirm the interview with Sawyer. Then, after that, he would fly to England and see about Bo Kennedy. He had to admit; he was rather looking forward to it.
Skandar left his grandfather’s house just past midnight. Grady's arrival had been a relief to them all; he had idolized him when he was young, and because they were closer in age than his father and his brothers, Grady had always filled the big brother role for Skandar.
He’d asked his advice about Hayley. His uncle, who’d married his childhood sweetheart, Molly, only to find after the honeymoon she had Stage IV cancer – talked to him, told him to give Hayley her space. ‘But not too much space, kid,’ Grady had smiled, ‘You don’t want to pressure her just let her know you’ll wait.’
Skandar opened the windows of his car and let the night air flood over him. He couldn't stop thinking about Hayley, her hurt, and humiliation. Damn the fucker who did to this her, to them. But it wasn't just them. The police had gone to his house, scoured it, and found hidden cameras everywhere. On their advice, the rest of his family had their homes checked. Jakob and Quilla were horrified when the police found cameras in their home too. Quilla had sobbed, and Skandar’s heart broke for her – they all knew what it meant.
Gregor. That son-of-a-bitch. If Skandar could get his hands on him, he’d ripped him apart with his bare hands for what he had done to Hayley, to Quilla, to them all. He had no idea why Gregor would go after him, though. The answer came back to him; he was an easy target. Skandar shook his head in desolation. Am I truly the weakest link in our family?
His cell phone rang, and he pulled over to the side of the road to answer it. His heart leaped when he saw the call i.d.
‘Hey sweetheart, it’s so good to hear from you.’
He waited, but Hayley didn't reply. Instead, he heard her sob. It made his chest hurt. ‘Oh, baby…'
‘I'm sorry,' she said through her tears, ‘I promised myself I wouldn't do this, but I miss you, I just miss you.'
‘I love you, I miss you every minute,’ he said, his own voice cracking. He hesitated then, ‘Samadamadingdong, can I come see you?’
He heard her laugh softly through her tears. ‘Yes please, SkunkMalady.’
‘Don’t forget the Bibble.’
‘SkunkMaladyBibble. Nan is at Joel’s.’
His chest tightened. ‘You’re on your own? She left you alone?’
‘I’m a big girl, Skan. Nan offered to take me with her, but I wanted to be on my own...except I don't want to be on my own, I want to be with you.' She sighed.
‘Darling, I'm coming over now. Lock the doors, the windows. I’ll call you when I’m outside.’ His heart was thumping unpleasantly, his adrenaline flooding his veins. He kept picturing Gregor hunting Hayley down, stabbing her like he did Quilla, but then was aware he might be scaring Hayley. ‘Just to keep the paps out, you understand.'
‘’K. Hurry.’
‘I will, baby, I promise.’
He was at her door within a half hour. As soon as she opened the door and saw him, she burst into tears. Skandar pulled her into his arms and closed the door behind himself.
‘It’s okay, baby, I’m here now…’
She nodded as he smiled down at her, brushing away her tears with his thumbs. ‘God, you look beautiful.'
She laughed through her tears then. ‘You never told me you had a kink for snot. I need a tissue.’
He followed her into her bedroom, looking around approvingly. Every surface was stuffed with books and records; her laptop opened on her desk. Her closet door was open, and it looked like she'd taken everything out – searching for more hidden cameras. She followed his gaze.
‘All clear,’ she sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. He sat down next to her.
‘Hayley…I cannot begin to…’
‘Ssh, don’t say sorry again. I’m sorry for even accusing you of...’
He caught her mouth with his, and she responded, her lips hungry against his. ‘I love you so much, Skandar,' she said when they broke for air. She stood and lowered the blind on her window then stripped her t-shirt off in one fluid movement.
Skandar’s breath faltered. God, just to see her…so lovely, such a turn on.
‘Sweetheart, are you sure?’
She bent down and kissed him again, then pulled him to his feet and slid her hands under his t-shirt. As she pulled it over his head, she smiled up at him. ‘No more talking.’
He grinned. ‘Yes, ma'am.’
She took his nipple into her mouth and teased the small nub as he unzipped her jeans and slid his hands into the back of her jeans, his fingers sweeping down to cup her perfectly rounded buttocks.
‘I want to be on top,’ she murmured against his lips.
‘I have no problem with that,’ he chuckled then grinned as she pushed him back onto the bed. She pulled her jeans and panties off, unhooked her bra and straddled him, gloriously naked, her pale skin almost luminous in the dull light of the room.
‘In an act of supreme defiance,’ she said, ‘and after torturing myself by checking every gossip site, I decided my time was better used researching technique. If the world’s going to label me a whore, then I’m damn well going to live up to that label.’
Skandar caught her wrists, made her look at him. ‘You are not a whore. I will kill anyone who calls you that.’ His voice was rough, cracked and she smiled down at him, her eyes soft.
‘I'm reclaiming the word,' she said confidently, her hands at his fly, ‘Whore being your lover, whore being the girl who thinks about you all day, every day…'
He nodded and as she reached in free his cock, already pulsating and thickening, he stroked his thumbs over her nipples, let his fingers drift down her belly. ‘I love you, Hayley Applebee.’
‘I love you too, Bibble,’ she grinned and then her mouth was on him. As her tongue, hesitant at first, swept over the head of his cock, he shivered with pleasure, his hands in her hair, letting the soft strands fall through his fingers. He drew in a deep breath, his head falling back as she sucked gently at him, his cock, his entire body at her mercy.
After a few moments, he lifted her up so he could kiss her mouth, his hand drifting between her legs to feel her already wet for him. Hayley leaned over and grabbed a condom from her drawer, and helped roll it onto him before she straddled him again and guided him inside.
God, it felt like coming home, making love to this gorgeous girl, his best friend, his compadre. Skandar felt like all his limbs were being made numb with pleasure, all his blood rushing to his cock as she moved on top of him, her slick sex enveloping his size. He stroked her body as she began to breathe hard, his fingers sliding into her bush and feeling the engorged clit swell and pulse under his touch.
He came, his body arching up, slamming his hips against hers as she cried out and he felt the hot rush of her orgasm. As she wilted, panting, he sat up and rolled her onto her back, hitching her legs over his shoulder and burying his face in her sex. For a moment, she moaned - God, Skandar, I don't know if I can… – but he was unrelenting, sweeping his tongue the length of her slit until it lashed mercilessly around her clit again and again until she nearly screamed as she came for the second time.
This time, she did beg him to stop and he grinned and complied, taking her into his arms. He smoothed the damp hair from her forehead, and they gazed at each other.
‘This is all that matters,' he murmured. ‘You and me. Forever.'
Kit shifted uncomfortably under the studio lights. He never got used to that heat, even as experienced as he was. Skandar was sitting next to him, texting, a sleepy grin on his face. He didn’t even look nervous.
‘Five minutes,’ the floor manager called, and Skandar looked up, finally putting his phone away.
‘Stay on script,’ Kit muttered as Diane Sawyer came towards them. He didn’t miss Skandar rolling his eyes.
The interview itself began well, comfortable, discussing Kit’s latest film and the fact he was about to work with Bo Kennedy. Diane brought up the Twitter spat and Kit, ever magnanimous, laughed it off as a way to meet new people. He felt Skandar snorted under his breath and surreptitiously kicked him. Diane turned to Skandar, and as they discussed Annika Hahn, Skandar told her how he had felt about the dead girl, that he missed her, that he wished her family didn't have to go through the pain of her sudden and violent loss. Diane was gentle but thorough, and Skandar was honest and touching. Kit was impressed. It had been a good idea not to cancel the interview.
‘Now, Skandar, in light of what you’ve just said…we can’t not talk about the photographs seen on the more salacious gossip sites.’
Skandar drew in a deep breath. ‘No, I don’t suppose we can gloss over it,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘Diane, I’m used to the public eye, the intrusion, the loss of privacy. It comes with the territory. This, however, was such an intrusive, despicable, heartless invasion of privacy that I don’t even have the words for how angry I am. It is inexplicable to me why this happened – what has anyone gained from it? The woman in those photos, Hayley Applebee, the girl I love, deserves to be treated with respect and love. She is a brilliant, smart, funny, beautiful student who is worth ten billion of any of the scum looking at, commentating on or publishing these photos. We were engaged in a private act of love. If the person who broke into my home – and, I have to add,’ – and he looked straight into the camera, ‘the home of my brother and installed these cameras is watching, just know this. We will stop at nothing to find you, and you will be brought to justice.'
His whole body was trembling. Diane looked at him with renewed respect. Kit, sensing a moment, threw his arm around his nephew. ‘And as his uncle, I have to speak up and say here, that privacy is the watchword of our family, and we will vigorously defend it.'
Diane blinked, then her professional smile returned. ‘Quite. That was an impassioned speech, Skandar; you must be serious about your lovely new girlfriend.'
‘I am. Very serious. This is it for me.’
Even Diane was taken aback by his words for a second. ‘You do seem very happy.’
‘It would be impossible not to be with Hayley.’
Kit could swear that Diane almost swooned at that. Jesus, kid, laying on much?
Finally to Skandar’s relief, Diane turned to Kit. ‘And how about you, Kit? I know you’re still reeling from your divorce from the gorgeous Asia Flynn – you saw the photos of her at the Met Gala with Sebastian Winter, I presume?’
Kit's face went red, but he gave her a strained smile. ‘We remain on good terms. I’m glad she’s finally moving on.’
Skandar shot his uncle a hard look. Low blow, Unc, he thought, feeling sorry for Asia. Diane looked equally unimpressed by the childish slight.
‘And what about you, Kit, have you moved on? Apart from the dalliance we all know about, of course, with Lulu Florentine? Have you and she reconnected since your divorce?’
Ouch. Kit, his eyes wary, shook his head. ‘No, we’re still friends, but no, we’re not together. To be honest, Diane, I’m at a time in my life where I just want to be alone, really work on myself, find out who I am when I’m not “Kit Mallory, superstar”.’
Skandar gazed in horrified wonder as his uncle made air quotes around his name. Skandar met Diane's eyes and the corner of her mouth hitched up. Skandar thought he might lose it.
‘Well, that's all the time we have.' Diane was clearly dying to get away from Kit and howl with laughter. ‘Thanks so much for talking to me, it’s been fascinating.’
‘Thank you, Diane.’
‘We're out.' The floor manager called, and Diane shook their hands – giving a wink to Skandar and a slight nod to Kit. Good luck with that. Skandar decided he liked Diane very much indeed.
‘Talk about hogging the limelight, jeez, Skan, let a guy get a word in.’ Driving them away from the studio and to the airport for Skandar to get a flight back to Seattle, Kit’s perfectly styled hair whipped around him as they sped along the freeway in his convertible.
Skandar grinned to himself. ‘This was your idea, Kit. I was answering the lady’s questions.’
‘And de
claring endless love. I'm surprised she didn't throw her panties at you, like every other woman in America will wanto now.'
Skandar shrugged. ‘I thought it went well. Asia will probably want a word, though.'
Kit didn’t reply. Skandar studied his uncle’s profile. How was that he was so entirely different from Skandar’s dad, his twin brother? Where Joel was humble and low-key, Kit was vain and extrovert. He wondered if he had always been like that or his chosen career had made him like that. Skandar thought back to some of the times he himself had been arrogant or careless with others. He knew one thing: Kit had loved Asia, really loved her but he couldn't control his baser instincts or eschew the stereotypical life of a global film star. Lulu Florentine (seriously, that was her real name?) wasn’t the first.
When they got to the airport, Kit surprised him. ‘You know, you should marry that girl. Don’t let her go if she means that much to you.’
Skandar smiled. ‘I won’t. Thanks.’
Kit nodded once then turned to leave him. He stopped. ‘Skan…if you see Asia, tell her…tell her hi from me. Hope she’s good. Sorry about the…you know.’
Skandar could see the sadness in his eyes. ‘You could call her yourself, you know.’
Kit laughed softly. ‘If I were her, I wouldn’t take my call. See you when I get back from London.’
Two days later, after a long transatlantic flight, he was finally being driven to the video set. Kit stared out of the window at the sunny streets of London, packed with workers, tourists and shoppers. Living in L.A., he wasn't used to seeing people walking around the streets, and he found it fascinating to watch the interactions of different people – the exasperated stressed faces of the city workers, pushing through slow crowds of tourists, the determination of the shoppers.
Billionaire’s Quarry: A Billionaire, Bad Boy, Romance (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set) Page 42
