Dylan chuckled. Sarah felt the world shift surreally around her. What the hell had caused the fire? Her mind tried to focus, but it wouldn’t settle on anything other than the revelation that she was alive. It was like a miracle.
A waiter approached them. “Hey, would you like to come and sit down? I can give you some tea – free of charge, of course. We’ve called the fire service, so they should be here soon.”
“I called them, too,” Sarah said, allowing herself to be guided over to sit at a wobbly wooden table.
Sarah held Dylan’s hand as the caring staff brought over cups of tea and slices of homemade cake. She listened with satisfaction as Dylan and the guy who he’d been so close to brawling with chatted amiably about soccer. It seemed that this man was a life-long Fenchurch United supporter, and he possessed extremely strong views about certain corrupt Russians coming over here and using the club for their own evil profiteering.
“My dad was an avid Fenchurch fan too,” Sarah said. “He loved that club – sometimes more than his own family I think!”
They all laughed at this – readily able to relate. Sarah sipped her tea and allowed herself to feel connected with all the people around her. She was touched by the warmth of these strangers. If someone was trying to kill her, maybe she was somehow being protected by a force-field of benevolence; it made Sarah want to do kind things in return.
Eventually, the firefighters arrived and extinguished the smouldering wreck that had once been a very nice car. Luckily Adam had only hired it for his short stay in London. But that wasn’t the point, was it? Someone had possibly tampered with it. Or planted a bomb… or something – perhaps when they’d been inside with Mikhail? Sarah held Dylan’s hand tight, wishing they could run away to an island somewhere and stay there until Orlov masterminded his own foolish downfall.
The police entered the café and questioned everyone, but Sarah and Dylan refrained from mentioning anything to do with Orlov, Natalia, Mikhail, or Ivan... Then they were free to go. The police towed the wreckage, but before they took it, one of their mechanics investigated the engine where the fire had started.
“It was an electrical fault, sir,” the mechanic explained. “It can happen sometimes. I was driving down the motorway once and the entire front of my van caught alight. Nothing to worry about, but it can be a bit of a shock, can’t it.”
An electrical fault? Even if the police believed that, Sarah knew the terrifying car fire had been much more than a mere accident. She craved to be somewhere secure, and – right now – there was only one place she could feel safe – the building that had been her sanctuary for so long. Her beloved hotel.
Chapter Twenty-Three
It seemed like forever since Sarah had last stepped into the marble lobby of the hotel that she’d given her heart and soul to. The huge space hadn’t changed much in the last few days – it was still a-gleam with its shiny floors and buzzing guests. But she’d changed. And hopefully for the better.
She felt nervous as she strolled over to the lavish reception desk with Dylan, but she relaxed as she was greeted with a gleeful gasp by Judy – the loyal young receptionist who Sarah had shared some lovely chats with over the years.
“Sarah!” she said. “Welcome back. We’ve missed you!”
“Thanks, Judy. It’s nice to see you.” Sarah opened her mouth to introduce Dylan, but someone behind called her name. “Sarah – it’s great to see you back!”
She turned and smiled into the eyes of the deputy manager, Nigel. He reached out and hugged her tight, which made her flinch, because he’d never done that before. She hoped Dylan would guess from his demeanour that Nigel was gay – she knew how possessive he could be at times. She eased herself out of Nigel’s arms, then she realised that other members of staff were drifting over to greet her. There was Jamil – the law student who worked as a bartender; George – the young porter who Sarah had recruited for ‘work-experience’ but who’d stayed for years; and Elsa – the semi-retired cleaner who’d been here since she left school aged fourteen.
They all seemed delighted to see her. It was like being a celebrity. No, it was like being a long-lost relative, returning to the arms of a loving family. The warm atmosphere embraced her, and she suddenly realised how much these people meant to her.
“We saw you on the news,” George said. “Your car caught fire. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, we’re fine.” She reached out and held Dylan’s hand. He shot her a grin.
“But we could both do with a lie down,” Dylan said. He threw Judy his best smile. “You got a vacant room?”
Judy blushed. “How about the honeymoon suite?”
“Sounds like the perfect place to hide out,” Dylan said, pulling Sarah close.
The honeymoon suite was exquisite. Sarah especially loved the engraved window-seat that overlooked the lush grounds. It consisted of a lavish bedroom, a separate living area, and an opulent marble bathroom – which Sarah insisted was always stocked with complimentary bath robes, massage oil, and a heart-shaped double bath.
They made themselves comfortable on the massive four-poster bed and ordered room service. “You okay, sweetheart?” Dylan asked.
She swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “Yeah… So do you think it was a bomb?”
“Not sure. If it was, why wasn’t there any evidence? Surely even the British police wouldn’t miss something like that?”
“I know. Unless Orlov’s bribed them.”
He rubbed her knee. “Nah, the British police are incorruptible. I do think someone tampered with the car. But I guess we’ll never know.”
“Well, whether or not it was done on purpose, we’re both lucky to be living and breathing. Nearly getting blown up certainly gives you a new perspective on life, doesn’t it?”
He chuckled kindly. “Sure does.”
Sarah kissed him on the lips. “I think I might take a shower. I wouldn’t mind a moment alone. Is that okay?”
“Sure, babe.” He raised a playful eyebrow. “You taking your vibrating lipstick in with you?”
Sarah burst into laughter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got you out here waiting for me?”
“Good point.” He kissed her, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll be right here.”
Sarah was relieved that he understood she wanted some time alone. Perhaps he also needed some time to reflect. It had been a really weird day. A really weird week.
She stood in silence in the luxury bathroom for a moment, relishing the extravagance around her. Even though everything was made of white marble, the ambience was warm and welcoming. The red-heart motif carved on the sink and bathtub had always struck Sarah as slightly cheesy, but the guests seemed to love it, so what could she do? The customer was always right.
She was tempted to light a few scented candles, create a romantic atmosphere, and invite Dylan to join her. But she’d come in for a few minutes alone, and she wanted to enjoy them.
She stripped off her dress, climbed into the huge tub, and stood under the glorious warm jet of water, allowing her tingling body to be soothed. She exhaled and relaxed completely; the only things in existence were Sarah, the warm water, and this moment in time. Her emotions unravelled and she felt strangely content. She breathed. Ah… this was nice…
The tears came upon her with such unexpected force that she feared she’d be ripped in two. She gasped as the pent-up emotion from the last few crazy days cracked and she sobbed suddenly under the shower, allowing the purge to take on its own momentum. Her throat shuddered as her mind whirled like the steam that was now filling up the room. What a week it’d been. Dylan was back in her life; he loved her. Someone was trying to kill her. Ivan was dead, then he was alive. He’d invented a device which could liberate humanity, and – last night – she’d helped Dylan to destroy the very last piece of it, because humanity couldn’t be trusted not to do bad things.
And today someone had tried to blow her up. But she was still alive. And she regretted none of it. A
steely strength spiralled through her as she realised that as long as she had good people around – as long as she was good – then the evils of this world couldn’t defeat her. Not even if she died. Her sobs slowly turned to sniffles and the tears were washed down the shiny plughole. She watched the water swirl away, and she laughed, ready to face the world again.
She switched off the shower with a jaunty flourish, then wrapped herself up in a snuggly bathrobe and padded back out to the bedroom. Dylan was lying on the huge bed, with his head propped up on a couple of pillows, reading emails on his phone.
She grabbed his foot. “Hello.”
He sat up and grinned, chucking his phone to the vanity table. “Come here, beautiful.”
She crawled over the springy bed to join him and they kissed.
“Ready for that massage I promised you, sweetheart?”
“I’d love that!”
He leaned over and grabbed a bottle of expensive massage oil from the vanity table, so Sarah shuffled around to sit between his legs. He drew her into his warm body and nibbled her neck, shooting delightful lust through her thighs.
“Well, I can’t massage you with this on,” he said, drawing the robe down around her shoulders and making it fall open at the front. Sarah realised with excitement that her arms were bound by the material, so now she was at Dylan’s disposal.
She heard him squirt the oil into his palm, then he reached up and slid his strong hands over her tired shoulders. He dug his thumbs into the tense muscles between her shoulder-blades, making her gasp in pleasure and pain.
“How does it feel?” Dylan whispered into her ear.
“Amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing.”
He reached down and pulled off her robe, dropping it to the floor so that she was naked. It was a warm day, and her body was hot from the rush of lust.
“Naked and oily,” he said, “Just how I like you.”
She chuckled, pushing down her desire. He reached down and grabbed the belt from her robe then tied it around her eyes with both hands.
“Now you’re my prisoner. I want you to feel absolute pleasure at my hands. You’re mine.”
He resumed the massage and Sarah gasped at his touch. The blindfold stole her sight, increasing the joy of being stroked and fondled by her lover. It was bliss.
“Lie on your front,” he said, helping her into position. Sarah settled down onto her stomach on the soft bed – blindfolded, naked, vulnerable, yet secure.
She heard Dylan undressing, then he straddled her yearning body and began to massage her shoulders again, applying more oil to her tight muscles – and sending pure delight through her unwinding body. His skilled hands made their way down to her lower-back, then they swept sensuously over her buttocks. She’d never had her ass massaged before and it felt subversive as well as incredibly relaxing.
“I love touching your wonderful body,” he said, easing his fingers between her thighs. “Your perfect ass, your slender thighs… your tight sweet pussy…”
Sarah groaned as he circled his fingers around the opening of her pussy, taking his time to tease and entice her. She could feel her G-spot straining with desire, desperate to be stimulated by that glorious long hard cock. Her clit throbbed, and her pussy was wet – ready for him.
“You want me, sweetheart?” he said, massaging her thighs in long circular strokes. “You want me inside you?”
“Yes, Dylan!” she whispered.
He lowered himself over her, covering her securely, and resting his weight on his knees and elbows – which held her in place.
“I need to thrust deep into you,” he whispered into her ear. “But first I need to warm you up a bit more, huh?”
Sarah’s body flooded with pleasure as Dylan reached down and eased his hand under her pelvis. The oil on his fingertip was the perfect lubricant, and her throbbing clit rubbed easily against it, rocketing up her passion and preparing her to come hard.
She started to lower her head to the bed, but he pulled her hair roughly, lifting her face to look at him. She was still blindfolded, but she pictured an incredibly erotic expression on his handsome face. Dominating. Self-assured.
“I need to see you coming,” he growled. “I need to hear you cry out how much you love me.”
He lifted his hips and eased the tip of his cock into her wet pussy, still rubbing her clit with his fingers. It felt amazing to be filled up by him in this position. Possessed by him entirely. Sarah’s hips thrust automatically, trying to get him inside her – she was desperate to feel her body explode into delight as he fucked her hard and rough.
“Not yet,” he whispered. “Not until I say.”
He teased her by lingering his cock at the opening of her pussy, rapidly sending sparks of joy into her, before he then suddenly thrust hard, filling her up completely. She groaned like an animal. It was agony and ecstasy combined. He lowered his head and bit her hard on the neck, making her feel like a lioness being taken by the strongest male in the pride. She ground her hips wildly as he thrust faster and faster – harder and harder – rubbing her clit into his fingers and the bed, until the euphoria struck hard between her legs and spread intensely over her body. Her pussy contacted around him, pulling him further in, as her mind filled with sheer delight.
“Oh, yes Dylan!” she moaned, unable to stop herself.
He wrapped her up in his strong arms as he came deep, holding her tight as they climaxed together.
Sarah’s intense orgasm gently faded and was replaced with adoration for her man. He pulled the blindfold down from her eyes and she saw him grinning smugly, knowing he’d made her come hard and forget all her troubles. He’d made her forget everything.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, caressing her face with oily fingers. He eased himself out of her, and removed the condom. Then he sat back against the velvet headboard as Sarah’s tingling body continued to soar in rosy contentment.
“Come here,” he said, rubbing the sole of her foot. “Come and let me hold you, babe.”
Feeling like a lazy lion on a scorching day, Sarah pushed herself up and crawled woozily over to snuggle against his warm toned chest.
He kissed her on the head. “Oh, by the way. I had an email from Orlov’s assistant.”
Sarah sat up. “What?”
“It’s okay. It was just to confirm that Orlov’s still looking forward to seeing me at the press conference tomorrow to announce the sponsorship deal.”
“And you’re still going? Even after what just happened?”
“I guess so. I mean, he can’t kill me in front of the papers, right?”
Sarah gazed at him. “I hope not.”
He traced his finger along her cheek. “Orlov must be shitting his pants right now. He knows we took the blueprint and he wants it back before his cronies kill him slowly and painfully. Ball’s in our court, babe. Nothing to worry about.”
“But you’re not actually signing anything tomorrow?”
“No way. It’s just a press conference. But it’ll be a great opportunity to talk to him quietly face to face – with everyone around.”
“Okay.” Sarah kissed Dylan tenderly on the lips. “I’m coming too.”
“No, Sarah, I don’t want you –”
“Out of your sight. You don’t want me out of your sight. And I don’t want you out of mine. I’m coming to the press conference.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Dylan had given enough business presentations in the last few years to not be fazed by public speaking. He stood behind the neon-lit podium now with Orlov, and gazed confidently into the crowd of press reporters. Sarah was standing at the back, looking beautiful dressed in the designer suit Amy had helped her choose, and wearing a ‘press’ tag around her neck. Not that she was ‘press’, but everyone here needed to wear one for security reasons. Maybe the person who’d organised this event had heard all about Orlov’s shady deals. Everyone had. His crooked past was there for all to see on his Wikipedia page.
The press conference had been set up in a vast meeting room at Sarah’s rival luxury hotel, so she’d joked earlier that she’d changed her mind and refused to set a foot inside. But there she was, smiling at him now, pouring her sunshine all over him. There was no mistaking what this press conference was for. The backdrop behind them was covered in the Grafton Techs and Fenchurch United logos, as was the front of the podium itself. Each newspaper and TV channel had their own microphone taped to a huge cluster of mics directly in front of where Dylan and Orlov were standing. One of the last things Dylan’s press agent had said before retreating was, “Try to stand quite close to each other so all the mics can pick you up.”
Yeah, Dylan thought. So I can elbow Orlov in the ribs if I see him suspiciously reach into his suit jacket for a gun...
The press agent announced it was time to begin, so Dylan stood tall, spread his weight evenly between both feet, and inhaled. The photographers instantly flashed their cameras like crazy, which Dylan thought was a bit sensationalist – it wasn’t as if he or Orlov intended to do anything but stand here and speak. But that was the press for you.
Orlov glanced over and ran his gaze over Dylan in a threatening manner.
“Looking for a good place to stick a knife?” Dylan muttered as the press agent introduced them and ran through the protocols.
“I know how to kill a man, no problem,” Orlov growled.
The first journalist raised her hand to ask a question. “Mr Orlov, I’ve heard rumours that your colleague Pavel Brovovsky hasn’t been seen since Wednesday. Can you confirm what happened to him, please?”
Dylan exchanged a subtle look with Sarah. That must’ve been the guy who’d been led away at Orlov’s party. Dylan wondered what the Russians had done to him and he guessed he was either too dead or too mutilated to be seen in public. Clearly they didn’t react sympathetically when they discovered traitors in their midst.
Dylan tuned into Orlov’s answer. “I don’t know anything about this. I have come here to discuss a sponsorship between my soccer club and Grafton Techs. Please do not ask me any questions about anything else. Especially nothing about my darling late-wife.”
The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) Page 14
