Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance (15 page)

He pushed her up against the wall and kissed her hard, his body against her in a lustful crush. ‘I’m not making any promises I can’t keep.’

‘Blake —’ But his fingers pulled aside the fabric of her bra and circled her nipples. His seductive caress melted her words, her thoughts. He kissed his way down her neck and replaced his fingers with his lips. She arched back against the wall. She wanted more, more, more. He read her thoughts and unhooked her bra. It fell away and his fingers explored her other breast. Heat and want and craving coursed through her body.

‘I want you. Please. Blake.’

In answer he slid his hand up her leg, pushing her skirt to her hips. Desire throbbed between her legs, begging for his touch. His slid his finger under the edge of her knickers and found her sensitive core. His touch torched her body with fiery desire, each stroke of his finger driving her higher and higher, demanding more and more. Teasing. Stroking. Tension building, building, building. Her breathing came fast and hard and shaky. She betrayed her own demands when she shattered with release and cried out his name.

Sarah flicked on the kitchen light and tugged open the fridge. She pulled out free-range eggs and fresh spinach and placed them near the cooktop. She’d discovered the Notting Hill farmers’ market and now Blake’s kitchen was always stocked with fresh food.

The past couple of days had been crazy with work for Blake, but the
Everest
launch was on track. With a few days to go, Blake barely slept more than a couple of hours each night. He barely ate. At least she made sure he had a healthy breakfast each morning.

‘Morning.’ Blake walked bleary-eyed into the room. He came up behind her and kissed her neck.

She smiled. ‘The usual?’ she asked.

‘Yes please,’ he said.

She popped some wholegrain bread into the toaster and Blake took a seat at the table. Before she cracked the eggs, she leant across the table and caressed the creases from his forehead. ‘How late did you work?’

‘Ah, I left the office at midnight, but an issue broke at around two this morning.’ He poured himself a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. ‘All good now though.’

A few minutes later, they both sat eating Sarah’s version of a traditional English breakfast.

‘I’ll be home late again tonight,’ Blake said. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t even think about it. You do what you have to do. We’ll have all the time in the world once
Everest
is launched. Remember, if there’s anyone who can understand honouring a parent’s wish it’s me.’

‘You’ll be able to do more than just honour it now.’

He was right. She’d already had ideas for a visitors’ education centre. She’d be able to sell some of the village’s local arts and crafts and bring further prosperity to the region.

Blake pushed back his plate. ‘Got to shower and get out of here.’

She followed him down the hall into his office. Files lay all over the desk. He began packing his briefcase.

‘You shower,’ she said. ‘I’ll get this organised.’

‘Thanks. I need all the files. And there’s one marked Technical in the top drawer.’

‘Go. Go,’ she said.

She sat and pulled Blake’s briefcase onto the desk. Opening the top drawer, she found the Technical file and slid it into his bag. She placed her hand on the drawer to close it, when a small navy-blue book caught her eye. She snatched it up.

Daniel’s passport.

She turned it over and over in her hand. A few months ago she’d have grabbed this document and fled. It’d been so simple then, escape and negotiate everything on her terms. But how could she do that now? Blake had admitted he needed help. Blake was Daniel’s father. They’d already developed a bond that filled her heart with joy. Blake had wedged himself back in her heart and she didn’t want to let him go.

She replaced the passport and slowly closed the drawer on an easy getaway. Blake was Daniel’s father. He had rights, too. What if the situation had been reversed? Hell, she’d probably have chained Blake in a basement if it had meant access to Daniel. And Daniel; he deserved to get to know his father, love his father. They’d go away together and make it work.

She gathered up the remainder of the files and stacked them in the briefcase. One slid from her hand and spilled onto the floor.

‘Damn.’ She knelt down, arranging the papers back into the manila folder. Standing, she bumped the side of Blake’s enormous computer. She cursed. So clumsy this morning.

The computer sprang to life. She glanced at the screen. His email account stood open. The title of one email smashed into her brain.

Investigative Report. Sarah and Daniel Walker.

A sharp injection of icy terror flooded her body, painful and rancid. With a trembling hand, she grabbed the mouse and read the email.

As requested, please find attached the report on the history and living circumstances of Sarah and Daniel Walker. Court date confirmed.
The short message then listed a date four weeks from today. A fear greater than she’d ever known gripped her, rendering her limbs useless. She dropped into Blake’s high-backed leather chair. The fear spread, fast, like a deadly contagious virus. Her hand shuddered. She reached for the mouse and opened the attachment.

Strong support for full custody case.

Living circumstances could be described as third-world.

Incident in 2006 useful for unfit-mother case.

The strength seeped from her body, her mind muddled with a kind of confused madness. Her stomach foamed with nausea. She couldn’t breathe but forced herself to read further down the page.

Images of her home appeared on the screen. Her tiny cabin looked squalid. The world puzzle lay completed on the table. She slumped back in the chair. Someone had been in her house. The photos had clearly been taken before her recent trip to Brunei with Blake.

She stared unseeingly at the office wall and her pulse thundered in her ears. A stranger had gone to the Sanctuary, been in her home . . . and at Blake’s request. Dug into her life, at Blake’s request. Gathered damning information, at Blake’s request. Everything she thought she knew about Blake slipped away.

Fear turned to action. She sat straight in her chair and clicked further through the report. Newspaper articles came into view. May 2006. A blade sliced through her heart. Her worst nightmare. At just three, Daniel had wandered into the jungle. He’d been lost for eight hours. The story had made the national newspapers. When he’d been found, a nation had heaved a collective sigh of relief. She’d never forgiven herself. Now Blake was planning to use the incident that still haunted her dreams. Use it against her.

‘All good?’ Blake’s voice pierced her heart. Her gaze darted to his like a trapped animal.

‘What’s wrong?’ He took a step towards her.

Sarah didn’t speak. She pointed to the screen.

Blake walked over and leaned in. It only took him a moment to digest what she’d seen.

He jerked upright. ‘Wait, I can explain this. It’s not what you think.’

‘You’re planning to go for full custody. To take Daniel from me.’

‘No.’

‘It’s all there.’

He touched her shoulder. She stood and shook free of his touch.

‘Sarah, I commissioned the report when we first met. When I thought you were going to run.’ He grabbed the mouse and clicked out of his email. ‘We’re past that now.’

Are we?
A few days ago, he’d used her and the Sanctuary to get what he wanted without telling her. Why would this be any different?

She took a step away from him. ‘There’s a court date booked.’

He grabbed her hands. ‘I’ve been too busy to cancel it. You know how things have been at work.’

How could she believe him? What could be more important than Daniel, his happiness? The success of Hunt-F Tech. Sarah realised with painful clarity that Daniel would always be low down on the list of Blake’s priorities. And she’d probably only make the list when his mind turned to lust.

Pain stabbed her heart, but she plotted with the single-minded ferocity of a starving lioness.

‘Of course,’ she said, forcing lightness into her voice. She pushed the final file into his bag with shaking fingers. She clipped the bag closed and handed it to the man who planned to steal her son.

He looked at her for a long time, clearly trying to decide where he stood. He kissed her. She didn’t flinch.

‘Are we okay?’ he asked, searching her face for the clues she kept hidden.

‘Sure,’ she said, pushing past him and walking to the front door. ‘Go to work and we’ll discuss it tonight.’

She opened the door. She drew her expression into one of neutrality. Her face felt tight, like that of a mannequin, all plastic and pretence. ‘Have a great day,’ she said, forcing a smile, fake and docile.

Blake paused. ‘I know things are crazy at the moment, but we will work this out. You and Daniel mean everything to me.’ His words sounded as hollow as her smile.

‘I know.’
That’s why you’re walking out the door. You can’t even see my feeble masquerade.

She waved and shut the door. Walking to her bedroom, she pulled her suitcase from the back of the cupboard. Blake didn’t understand the law of the jungle. Nothing stood between a mother and her cub.

Blake scanned the entry hall of the Natural History Museum from his position on the steps. The cathedral-like room was packed, with people milling around the diplodocus skeleton dominating the central space. Excited voices bounced off the nineteenth-century terracotta-tiled walls.

Every influential media outlet had a microphone erected at the podium. The grand staircase acted as the stage for the event. Television cameras and photographers jostled for the best positions at the foot of the steps.

He turned away from the crowd and walked over to the marble statue of Charles Darwin sitting still and serene. Although Blake’s announcement today wouldn’t have the same impact on global consciousness as that of Darwin’s theories, he was about to introduce a new concept that would finally secure, without a doubt, the future of Hunt-F Tech as a global force.

Ten long years in the making and here he was. His commitment delivered upon. He knew that if he could make Hunt-F Tech number one, then he’d forgive himself. For not being there for his father. For not paying attention. For letting young, crazy love blind him to what was important. Today, his father’s company would become a true global force and no one would ever again question the integrity of the Huntington-Fiennes.

‘We did it,’ Tom said, clapping him on the back.

‘Yes,’ Blake replied. But it didn’t feel how it was supposed to feel. Where was his absolution?

‘Ready?’ Diane asked. The head of PR looked excited, but in her usual calm way had organised every aspect of the launch. Although the competition had got wind of the project, it had been too late for them to do any real damage. Henry had proven Katie was the source of the leak. She had been sacked and she wouldn’t work in PR in London again. This town didn’t give second chances.

‘Yes.’ Blake touched Darwin’s hand. The cold stone offered no encouragement, no reassurance, no comfort. He walked to the podium, as if controlled by a game console. Applause thundered through the museum’s Central Hall. Blake waited for quiet. Then he waited some more.

Scanning. Hoping.

But the two faces he longed to see didn’t appear. Sarah and Daniel had left two days ago. He’d tried everything he could think of to contact them but to no avail. He’d hoped Sarah would calm down and come back, but she hadn’t. If she didn’t turn up today, well . . . He pulled off his jacket, the room suddenly airless and claustrophobic.

‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Blake Huntington-Fiennes and today we are here to launch our new game,
Conquering Everest
.’ The slick presentation rolled behind him on the vast screen. Music resonated through the magnificent hall. A new age in gaming came to life. People sat forward in their chairs.

‘
Conquering
Everest
catapults gaming technology into a new realm. Hunt-F Tech’s new 4-D technology is the most important development . . .’
Important?
A blot of shock rocketed through his body. He gripped the podium with both hands.

The video continued to play. The autocue halted. His family, seated in the front row, looked up at him with anxious faces. Jemma mouthed, ‘Are you all right?’

The most important? This? He surveyed the room. The media. City analysts. Distributors. He glanced at the screen, at his product. None of this came close to being the most important thing in his life. The past few days without Sarah and Daniel had been unbearably painful. Living without them . . .

‘Blake,’ Diane whispered from his left. She’d written the presentation, rehearsed with him, she knew it down to the last second. ‘Everything okay?’

He smiled at his loyal employee and covered the microphone. ‘For the first time in my life, I can give an unequivocal yes.’ He removed his hand. ‘Sorry, everyone, I have to go. Diane, will you take over please?’

He ran down the stairs, his heart wild in his chest. Ignoring the gasps and chatter around him, he strode across the cavernous room, every step taking him closer to the woman he loved. The only woman he’d loved. The woman . . . the family he’d nearly lost because of a misguided commitment to his dead father to never take his eye off the ball.

But he’d been watching the wrong ball.

‘I know you miss them, darling.’ Sarah sat next to Daniel on his bed in their tiny forest cabin. They’d only arrived back at the Sanctuary a few hours earlier. The crickets screamed their scratchy refrain. The jungle was restless this morning, mirroring her own agitation.

‘Why did we have to leave? We’re going to miss the launch of Blake’s new game,’ Daniel said, toying with one of his books. ‘I was really looking forward to it. It was being held at the Natural History Museum.’

‘I was, too, but we have urgent things to do here.’ She took a big slug of her coffee. She hadn’t slept properly since their flight from Blake’s apartment. He’d phoned incessantly. She’d let it ring out.

‘I’ll go feed Sultan,’ Daniel said, but his voice held no joy.

‘You missed Sultan, didn’t you?’ she asked.

‘Yes, but . . .’ Daniel shook his head and headed for the door.

Sarah followed him. ‘But?’

Daniel wouldn’t meet her eye. ‘I know how important the Sanctuary is, Mum. I know computers aren’t the best thing in the world. I know being outdoors is good for you and all that. That being homeschooled is just how things have to be, but . . . It’s just . . .’

Sarah held her breath.

‘It’s just . . . Well . . .’

‘You liked being in London.’

‘Yes. I really liked it.’

‘Oh, darling.’ She hugged him. She’d always believed she’d been doing the absolute best for her son under the circumstances. But she wasn’t. She’d delivered on a promise made to her dying mother and her son was a sacrificial lamb. She’d isolated him. She’d isolated him from things that could be his life’s passion. Sarah took her son’s hand and led him to the couch.

‘You know something,’ she said, putting her arm about him and trying to keep the wretchedness from shuddering into her voice. ‘I liked London, too.’ Her son’s gaze flicked to her face. ‘Just a little bit,’ she added. ‘I know it’s a long way away, but how about we see if there’s a cricket club in the city you can join so you can play on weekends. And we plan a trip back to London very soon. Okay?’

‘Really?’ Daniel’s eyes shone like the Milky Way on a dark winter’s night. ‘Even though it’s so far?’

‘Really.’

Daniel looked down at his lap. ‘And Mum . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘I really liked Blake, too. I know he was into computers and all, but . . . He was really fun. I sort of . . . well . . . I kind of miss him.’

Her heart screwed itself up into a tiny ball and threatened to never beat again.

‘When we go back to London, we’d stay with him. Wouldn’t we?’ he asked.

She hugged her son to her chest so he couldn’t see the pain on her face. ‘We’ll see.’ She swallowed hard. ‘How about we feed Sultan and check in on everyone?’

‘Okay.’ Daniel jumped to his feet and ran out the door.

Sarah followed him out into the compound. The suffocating hot and humid air sat heavily on her skin. She inhaled the smell of impending rain. A low rumble sounded off to the east. They were in for some soggy weather in a few hours. She trudged through the forest, following the happy sounds coming from just within the greenery.

The carers and the orangutans played in a clearing north of the compound. The twenty orphaned apes rolled and climbed and scampered. She stood for a moment out of sight.

‘Daniel!’ Tino cried when he glimpsed the boy. Tino pulled her son into a big bear hug and lifted him off the ground. Each carer hugged Daniel, warmly welcoming him home. Everyone crowded around wanting to know his news. Daniel’s earlier sombre expression vanished into smiles and excited chatter.

When Daniel found Sultan, both ape and child raced to each other and embraced. Daniel rolled Sultan onto his back and tickled his tummy. Sultan’s big toothy grin had Daniel laughing and laughing. They chased each other like two kids in an overgrown playground.

Sarah laid her head back against a tree and stared at the canopy. Still, after all this time, she marvelled at the incredible bond that formed between human and ape. She looked over at the group playing, laughing and mucking around. This was her family. This was Daniel’s family. What they were doing out here in this small, isolated corner of the world was important. Special.

She pushed off the tree and walked back to their cabin. Her emotions ran too close to the surface to face her jungle family. The wild and familiar noises of the forest soon enveloped her. The drip, drip of moisture. The gentle movement of the trees. The distant shrieks and calls of the animals deep in the forest.

She paused and tuned in to her environment. The forest presented juxtaposition: the wild and peaceful. Their mostly tranquil life could be fractured at any time by weather, animals or just their desperate lack of funds.

This life that had been thrust upon her had certainly been tough, but the magic of this place, the animals, the forest were truly extraordinary. But she had to face the fact that things had changed. She couldn’t just hide out here with Daniel. The world had crashed in and she’d have to face the consequences. But not today.

She walked past the new enclosures being built with the funds from her stay in England. Blake’s image slammed into her mind and her chest tightened. His betrayal cut so deeply. Sure, he’d claimed not to be chasing sole custody of Daniel, but he’d also claimed to have tried to find her and she’d never had any proof that that was true. He’d also used her to create a game as a decoy for his real aims.

She kicked a stone off the path. She couldn’t deny that Blake had brought so much good into her world. Before he came back into her life, she couldn’t really say she’d been content, but she knew her destiny was keeping her mother’s vital work alive. But now she’d tasted another life. She’d experienced again the all-consuming joy of passion. Of . . . of love? Her heart beat a little faster. She looked around at the forest. The boundaries of the Sanctuary were too small, too confined, too limiting.

She strode down the path, mud squelching under her boots. She’d just have to box all that away and get on with it. She’d done it when Blake had left the first time, she could do it again. She ignored the heavy, agonising ache in her heart.

Back at the cabin she made herself a cup of tea and forced herself to think about the Sanctuary and all the work to be done. Sitting at the table, she watched as a lone spider worked slowly, carefully building a web in the corner of the room. She looked about her small, shabby cabin. She’d never minded their cramped conditions, but she had to face the fact that Daniel was growing up. He needed his own space.

She stood and paced slowly around the room. They couldn’t live in luxury, but some of the new funds could be used to improve their dilapidated home. She looked at the ceiling. The cavity in the roof would easily convert into a bedroom.

A few minutes later she had Tino holding a ladder under the ceiling access and she pushed back the cover. She flicked on the naked light bulb and carefully scanned the pitched space. As much as she liked the resident python doing rat duty, she wasn’t too keen to meet the reptile face-to-fang. A quick inspection revealed she wouldn’t have her own Bear Grylls moment. She crawled up into the cavity. Towers of boxes lined each wall. Most of the stuff was over ten years old. Time to go.

‘Ready?’ Sarah called down to Tino.

‘Ready,’ he said.

Sarah hauled a box to the opening and passed it down to Tino’s waiting hands.

Half an hour later, Sarah sat in her small living room surrounded by boxes and piles of paper. She lifted the lid on the closest box. A cockroach scuttled out and raced under the couch. She grabbed a sheaf of papers covered in mildew.

‘Most of that stuff’s been up there for years,’ Tino said. ‘Why don’t we just incinerate it?’

‘There might be something important.’

‘Well, have fun with it.’ He left her to it.

She checked the notation on the top of the nearest box. Accounts 2001. ‘Great.’ She worked methodically and within an hour she’d cleared about half the boxes. Most of the material could be thrown straight on the fire Daniel had lit in the yard.

She hauled another box over. The word ‘personal’ was written in her mother’s handwriting. She tossed off the lid and lifted out a couple of old photos. Her mother holding a baby orangutan’s hand. She wasn’t smiling. Her face held that fierce, determined look, her mother’s most common expression. She flicked through a couple of other photos. Jill Walker had been the most single-minded person that had ever walked the earth. She was going to save a species and nothing was going to stand in her way. Nothing. And nobody.

Sarah placed the photos in a neat pile. It had been agony watching her mother waste away so fast. Every day of those long last few months, Jill had talked about the importance of Sarah carrying on her work. In the end she’d begged. Under the influence of the pain-killing morphine injections, she’d said many strange things.

‘I was protecting you. Protecting your child,’ Jill would mumble urgently over and over, her eyes unseeing and crazy. ‘I did the right thing. I did the right thing.’

It’d been the morphine talking. Sarah would pat her hand and reassure her. ‘Of course you did, Mum.’

She roughly rubbed the moisture from the corners of her eyes. It was all so long ago, but occasionally the grief threatened to burst through and take hold. She’d always come second to her mother’s work, but she’d understood. Her mother’s mission was noble, important.

She blinked and pulled out a few slim files. Underneath, instead of the usual disarray of paper, the box contained a series of notebooks neatly filed. She lifted a book from the box. A diary. She ran her finger along the spine of the books. All diaries. She glanced at the date on the volume in her hand: 2004, the year she’d met Blake. The book fell open and a letter slipped out. She put the letter to one side and read the entry.

Better to protect her and her child against future pain. The three of us against the world.

She looked at the date. It was a few weeks before her mother had begun to slip in and out of consciousness.

Future pain?

She picked up the letter and turned it over. The handwriting. The hairs on her arms stood on end. Her pulse jumped. Her chest constricted. A letter. From Blake. A disturbing tingling sensation spread over her body.

Her hands trembled. She slid the page from the already opened envelope.

My darling Sarah,

Something terrible has happened with Dad’s business and we have to fly home tonight. I’ll come back as soon as I can because I think I’m in love with you. I know we live in different countries, but we can make this work. I could come to live in Brunei or you could come to live in London (lots of photojournalism jobs there!) because I can’t imagine my life without you. See you soon. Every second away from you is torture.

The letter concluded with all Blake’s contact details – his home number and address, office details and mobile number – and a postscript begging her to get in touch as soon as possible.

Her heart strained in her chest. Her mind screamed and screamed and screamed. Blake had been telling the truth. The letter slid from her hand. The room blurred. Her mother had known Blake was Daniel’s father. She had known how to contact Blake. She’d stolen the only link between them. Why? Betrayal burned and blistered across her skin.

Jill had deliberately kept them apart. Why? Why? Why? Why would she deny Daniel a chance to know his father? Jill had known Sarah loved Blake. After Sarah confessed to her pregnancy, she’d told her mother everything. Jill had watched her sob and sob and sob. She’d known how heartbroken she’d been when Blake had disappeared.

Men use you, then they leave you. Your grandfather. Your father. And now the father of your child. Put your trust in this place. You can trust animals. They give back all the love they receive. They will never betray you.

Her mother’s mantra crashed into her mind. But . . . Sarah leapt to her feet. That was her mother’s life, not hers. Her mother’s philosophy, not hers. Her mother’s mistakes, not hers. Blake hadn’t left her. Blake had loved her. Would have moved across the world for her.

She picked up the diary and stared at the entry. Future pain? Had this been her mother’s misguided attempt to protect her and Daniel from the possibility of Blake leaving them? As her father had left them. She read the words again, sure that was what her mother had done.

How could a mother’s love be so misplaced? But even as she thought the words, guilt seared through her veins. She’d initially kept Daniel a secret from Blake. She’d forced Blake into keeping his paternity a secret. Now, she’d taken Daniel from his father. She was just as culpable.

The ring of the ancient phone split the air. She jumped up and knocked over her chair. She snatched up the receiver. Her hands shook.

‘Yes?’ she barked out too sharply. She dragged in a shuddering breath. ‘Sorry. Hope Sanctuary.’

‘Sarah?’ The woman’s voice on the end of the phone sounded desperate.

‘Yes. Jemma? Is that you?’

‘Yes. Sarah, it’s Blake. He’s walked out of the launch right in the middle of his speech and we can’t find him. No one’s seen him all day. It’s not like him.’ Her words sounded rushed, frantic. ‘Has he contacted you?’

It felt as though a thousand pointed shards stabbed Sarah’s stomach. Blake would never do that. This was the moment he’d worked so hard for. Sacrificed so much for.

‘No. No, he hasn’t.’

‘You know about Dad,’ Jemma’s panicked tone injected raw fear into Sarah’s veins. ‘You know what happened. I couldn’t . . . We need to . . .’

Sarah couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Had she done this? Had she pushed Blake too far?

‘If he calls, please get him to ring me,’ Jemma begged.

‘I will,’ she said, her voice a whisper.

Jemma disconnected the call. A minute passed before Sarah realised she hadn’t hung up the phone. She dropped the receiver and slumped into a chair.

What have I done?

Sarah stared unseeingly at the jumble of jigsaw-puzzle pieces lying on the table in the dim candlelight. The storm that had struck that afternoon had turned nasty. Wind and rain battered their small home. The air held a heavy scent of earth and the pungent tang of a rainforest being whipped by wild weather. They’d lost power and Sarah felt as though she was being slowly smothered. She’d phoned Jemma and there’d been no news.