Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance (5 page)

Through another doorway and Sarah entered a room that could only be described as stunning. Through three glass walls the afternoon sun gilded everything with its golden embrace. Fine cream leather sofas, covered in muted honey, olive and amber–toned cushions framed a solid-marble coffee table. The lush trees and gardens of Hyde Park and the sparkle of the Serpentine spread out before her in a verdant oasis all the way to the historic buildings of Knightsbridge. The chandelier spread across the ceiling like a rippling lake of crystal and gold and glitter. She steadied herself against the wall. Even it was finished in richly textured wallpaper.

After dining at The Dorchester, she’d realised Blake was rich. But standing at the edge of this palatial room, she realised his wealth was beyond anything she’d dreamed. She stepped into the space, seduced by its beauty, and stopped. Had this been what Blake had wanted? For them to be enticed into his world of wealth? If it came to an expensive legal battle, she’d lose before the first shot was fired.

Daniel ran to the floor-to-ceiling windows and pressed his forehead against the glass. ‘Wow.’

‘Careful, darling,’ Sarah called.

‘That’s bulletproof glass,’ Blake said. ‘He’ll be okay.’

She threw him at look she wished could inflict actual damage. She hovered by the door.

‘I’ve got something to show you,’ Blake called to Daniel.

Shards of alarm pricked Sarah’s skin. What on earth could Blake have that could hold the interest of a nine-year-old boy?

She followed them down a long hallway. Bold, modern art graced the spotless white walls. Up ahead, Blake opened a side door.

‘This is your bedroom,’ Blake announced.

‘Wicked.’ Daniel disappeared from sight.

Sarah’s heart slammed hard against her ribs. Her legs forgot to function.
No. No. No.
She shoved past Blake and found herself in a large room decked out with everything a boy would put on a far-fetched fantasy Christmas list. Games and toys still wrapped in plastic. A laptop computer. The walls covered in prints of sailing boats and other boy’s-own adventure images. The room looked as if it had been plucked from an interior design magazine.

The room shrank around her. Suffocating. Strangling. She dropped onto the pristine bedspread.

Daniel raced around the room, touching everything. He pulled open the cupboard. Along with more games, the space was packed with rows of new clothes, some with the tags still visible.

‘I didn’t know Daniel’s shoe size, so we can shop for them tomorrow,’ Blake remarked through the jumbled haze. ‘Your room’s next door.’

Daniel fished around in the cupboard and pulled out a game. Her son’s small battered travel bag lay near the back of the wardrobe. Someone had been to their hotel and collected their things? Fear, sharp and scorching, contorted her stomach. They’d stumbled into a luxury jail.

Sarah grabbed Daniel’s hand. ‘We have to go, darling.’ She tried to keep the crushing panic from her voice.

‘Mum.’ He slipped from her grasp. ‘Check out all this stuff.’ But he looked into her face and read her expression. In the jungle they had subtle safety codes they used around the animals. She’d sent him a red light. Alarm registered on his young face. He followed her quickly to the doorway.

Blake barred their exit like a stone sentry.

‘Sarah, why don’t you let Daniel enjoy his new room and we can talk in the living room.’ His tone was light, but his eyes were dark with danger.

Sarah raced through her options. What would Blake do if they tried to run? Block them from leaving? She needed to keep calm. She didn’t know how far Blake would go. The lawyer’s words thudded more ominously than war drums . . . 
He could keep you in this country indefinitely through a long, expensive custody battle
.

‘Mum?’

‘All right. Why don’t you check out some of the games?’ she said, covering her fear with a cheery calm. She picked up the closest box. ‘This looks interesting.’ She turned it over. ‘Star Wars Lego.’

‘Lego!’ Daniel grabbed the box of throwaway coloured plastic and shredded the wrapping.

Blake placed his hand on her back and guided her from the room. The touch she’d once craved now felt as cold as a policeman’s handcuffs. Halfway down the hall, she slapped away his hand.

‘Don’t you dare touch me.’ In the enormous living room, she put as much distance between them as the room allowed.

‘There was a time when you couldn’t get enough of me,’ he said, as if he hadn’t just enacted a scene from a movie thriller.

‘Kidnapping me and my son is a funny way to try to rekindle the love.’

‘Our son.’

The absolute gravity of those words crashed into her mind. Until that moment, the seriousness of the situation had seemed somewhat abstract. She opened her mouth to hurl a retort. Nothing came. What could she say? Daniel was their son. She sank into a chair.

He took a seat across from her.

‘This is how things are going to be,’ he said. ‘You and Daniel will stay here until we work out what to do next.’

‘That’s impossible. Our flight leaves in four hours.’

‘That’s irrelevant.’

‘They’re non-refundable tickets. I can’t afford to lose that sort of money.’

‘I’ll cover it,’ he said. ‘I’ve spoken to my lawyer. The British courts take a very dim view of one parent denying access to the other parent. Particularly when one is a foreigner.’

British courts!
Her pulse throbbed an agitated beat at her temples. What had she done bringing Daniel here? Could she lose him altogether?

‘What do you want?’ She had to ask the question even though she didn’t want to hear the answer.

‘To be part of Daniel’s life. I’ve missed out on nine years. I don’t plan on missing another day.’

‘But we live on the other side of the world.’

‘That may have to change.’ The life-altering statement slipped from his mouth as though he’d made some inane comment about England’s shocking weather.

She tightened her grip on the arms of the chair. ‘You can’t force us to do whatever you want. We live in Brunei. The Sanctuary can’t operate without me. We’re running on a shoestring already and you’ve ripped away our only major funding. I have responsibilities. People depend on me. Let us go home and we can —’

‘Let me make this clear, Sarah.’ Blake sat forward in his chair. ‘You lost your right to dictate things the minute you decided you were going to leave this country, with Daniel, and never tell me of his existence. From now on, we do things my way.’ She was caught like a rat up a posh, art-covered, bulletproof drainpipe.

‘But court?’

‘I don’t want it to come to that. So, stay here with me and we’ll work out how best to move forward.’

Move forward?
He spoke as though he was dealing with a product launch, not a child. She looked around as if some form of escape might present itself. Nothing. He held every ace, king, queen and jack. She had no choice. She’d have to play along. For now.

‘All right, we’ll stay for the moment. On one condition.’

‘What’s that?’ His tone informed her she had limited terms of negotiation.

‘That we don’t say anything to Daniel until we resolve how things will work.’

Blake didn’t say anything, but his expression displayed dissent.

‘Blake, we can’t just announce to Daniel that he has a father and that his whole life is about to be turned upside down. He’s a sensitive kid. He’s lived his entire life in the jungle. We have to ease him into this. Please.’

‘Mum.’ Daniel crept into the room. ‘I’m hungry.’

Blake stood.

‘Okay, we’ll do it your way for now,’ he said in a low voice, then turned towards his son. He beckoned Daniel over. ‘Come on. Let’s check out the kitchen.’

And father led son from the room. Seeing them walk away together so naturally spilled every emotion she possessed into a mess of confusion. It had taken her years to recover from Blake’s disappearance and Daniel’s fatherless status. She’d experienced every level of grief but anger had won in the end. That driving force had seen her through the tough years of bringing up a child as a single parent, her mother’s death and running a critically under-funded wildlife sanctuary. But now here he was, demanding all sorts of . . . rights. Staking his claim.

Sarah slumped back on the luxurious chair. Exhaustion suffused through her body. Daniel’s laughter drifted in from the adjacent room. Rock-hard determination took up residence in her heart. She stood and walked towards the kitchen. Of course Blake should play a role in his son’s life, but no way would some foreign court make a judgement about Daniel. She had to plan their escape.

Sarah’s breathing sounded louder than a steam train. She listened at the door of her ridiculously large, deluxe bedroom. She heard Blake moving around the apartment. She opened the door a crack and peeped out. She couldn’t see anything. She glanced at the bedside clock again. Ten past five – almost dawn. Holding herself still, she listened and waited. Ten minutes later, the unmistakeable sound of the front door opening and clicking shut echoed through the quiet apartment.

She stepped into the hall and held still. Not a sound. She checked Blake’s room, the living room, the media room, the office, the kitchen. Blake had left. Running back to her room, she grabbed her handbag and suitcase. She’d slept in her clothes, not wanting to touch the new set of pyjamas that had been laid out for her. She wanted to be ready to move when the time was right.

Leaving her bag in the hall, she ran to Daniel’s room and shook her son awake.

‘Come on, darling, time to go.’

‘Five more minutes,’ he said, rolling away from her.

‘No, darling, we have a plane to catch.’ She lifted him into a sitting position and helped him swing his legs over the side of the bed. She didn’t know what she was going to do when they reached the airport. Their tickets had expired. But she knew one thing: she must get back to Brunei. She had no bargaining power in Britain, but she was sure Bruneian law afforded them some protection. If necessary, they could flee to Australia for a short time as they both held Australian citizenship. She’d find out the best course of action once they’d escaped.

‘It’s still dark,’ Daniel said, his voice groggy.

‘Makes it more exciting,’ she said. ‘Get dressed. I’ll take our bags to the door.’

Sarah pulled his small bag from the cupboard, not touching any of the shiny bribes Blake had bought to procure his son’s affection. She paused then quickly shoved the Lego in the bag. Daniel had loved that stuff.

She hauled the bags to the front door of the dimly lit apartment. She didn’t know how to work the security system, but she’d call the doorman to help her with her bags and he could effect their breakout.

The lift pinged outside the door. A toxic mix of adrenaline, fear and guilt raced through her bloodstream. Her breath stuck like moss to the walls of her lungs.
Move.
She grabbed her bag and flung Daniel’s over her shoulder. Two paces from the end of the entrance hall and the safety of the bedroom passage, Daniel’s bag struck something hard. She twisted. The two-faced metal statue rocked dangerously on the small table. She grabbed at it. The door opened. She lifted her head. The brass artwork clanged onto the marble floor. An awful cacophony echoed through the apartment. The piece split in two and one of the faces rolled to the front door. She followed its doomed progress until it came to rest under the foot of the tall silhouette in the doorway. Light from the outside hall pinned her like a prison spotlight.

‘Going somewhere?’ Blake’s voice sounded as menacing as a loaded gun, cocked and ready to fire.

Sarah couldn’t find any words. Nowhere to go. Nothing to say.

Blake walked across the floor, his trainers making no sound. He slid her handbag from her shoulder, placed it on the now empty table and rummaged through its contents.

‘What do you . . .’ she began.

He withdrew two passports. Her stomach plummeted. Her eyes swelled painfully. He flicked through her tickets to freedom and dropped one into her bag and pocketed the other.

‘You’re welcome to leave, but don’t think for one second you’ll be taking my son with you.’ He walked past her into the living room. ‘And get yourself a lawyer. You’re going to need one.’

‘I don’t want Daniel playing computer games all day.’

Sarah couldn’t believe she was here again, in the Hunt-F Tech conference room and now virtually Blake’s prisoner. Blake had insisted they accompany him to work. He might have Daniel’s passport, but he didn’t trust her not to abscond with Daniel and hide somewhere in the UK. As if she could anyway. Her funds would probably last little more than a week.

‘We’re going to be here for most of the day. I’ll arrange for some books to be delivered. You don’t object to reading, do you?’ Blake asked. He flicked through a menu that had appeared on the enormous television screen.

‘It’s Saturday,’ Sarah said.

‘You work twenty-four-seven in this game.’ A series of computer graphics appeared on the screen.

She understood crushing work hours. She worked from the moment the sun rose until it set each day. Hard manual labour, but at least it was outside in a healthy environment, not cooped up in some city office.

‘Shame you don’t dedicate those hours to something more worthwhile.’ Okay, so she didn’t really understand the extent of Blake’s business, but being held a prisoner hadn’t put her in the best of moods.

Blake placed the TV controller on the table. ‘Do you have any idea what we actually do here?’

‘Produce a whole lot of throwaway technology?’

Daniel burst into the room. ‘Mum, you won’t believe the toilets here. They flush as soon as you stand up and there’re taps on the basins that you don’t have to touch. You hold your hands underneath and the water comes on.’ He hurled his small body into one the chairs, laughing. ‘Took me ages to work it out.’

Daniel grabbed the console from the table. ‘Is this a game?’ he asked, pressing every button and flicking the control back and forth.

‘Yes and you’ll be the first kid on the planet to play it,’ Blake said, gently retrieving the controller.

Daniel stared into Blake’s face as if he’d turned into Santa Claus. ‘No way?’

A lump as big as Santa’s sack lodged in Sarah’s throat. Hell, was she jealous? Yes, jealous. Jealous of the ease with which Blake generated wonder and enthusiasm in her son.

‘Yes way,’ Blake said. He showed Daniel how to manipulate the controller. ‘The game’s still being tested. I want you to play and let me know what you think.’

‘So if I find something wrong, you might change it.’ There was an excited quiver in his voice.

‘Absolutely,’ Blake confirmed.

‘This is so cool,’ Daniel said, pulling his chair a little closer to the screen.

Blake spent the next five minutes showing Daniel how to play. Sarah didn’t have the heart to protest and had to grudgingly accept that it was probably quite educational. She wished Blake would stop pleasantly surprising her. She had to remember he’d just taken away her liberty.

‘So, Daniel, are you going to be okay for a while? I want to show your mother something.’

‘Sure,’ Daniel said, unable to tear his eyes from the screen. Already he was entranced.

Sarah followed Blake from the room with metaphorical murder on her mind. Blake pulled the door closed behind her.

‘What?’ she demanded.

Without a word, he took her hand. She tried to shake him loose but he held firm.

‘Come with me,’ he said.

Blake led her down one floor and through a series of doors he opened with thumbprint security. Each time, he held open the door for her and he took her hand again. She stopped protesting after the first two doors. She didn’t want to admit it, but Blake holding her hand wasn’t horrible. It had been so long since she’d held hands with anyone other than Daniel. It was ridiculous that Blake’s simple touch had ignited all her senses.

A sign announced they had entered the education division. Off to the left, shelving towered above her, with row upon row of DVDs.

‘Our education department is one of the biggest divisions in the company,’ he said. ‘We sponsor a hundred of the most disadvantaged schools and provide them with computer software.’

There he was doing good works again. She didn’t want to know about all the great stuff he did. It made it harder to keep him where she wanted him, in the you-could-steal-my-child box. ‘Grooming kids to become future Hunt-F Technology consumers.’

Blake fixed her with a look so intense she felt surprised at not being burnt. ‘Being computer-literate is essential for all kids these days. Any kid that’s not technology savvy will be left behind,’ he said. He walked to the wall of DVDs. ‘That’s not something I influence, that’s reality.’

‘Are you implying that Daniel is behind in some way?’ Anger dropped more heavily into her voice than she intended.

‘No, not behind,’ Blake said.

Exactly. Daniel would be ahead if anything.
She’d diligently kept Daniel up-to-date with his schooling. She received a special homeschooling program from Australia every six months.

‘Very behind,’ Blake said.

White-hot fury burned down her throat. ‘How dare you?’

‘That game I gave him was designed for five-year-olds and he didn’t even know where to start.’

‘He may not know much about computers, but he knows about life. Real life.’

Sarah stalked to the other end of the DVD shelf so she could put her back to him and ignore the disturbing niggle he’d kicked off in her brain.

‘I’m sure you do a fine job as a mother, but don’t you want Daniel to have options? Options that a proper education can give him.’ She felt him come up behind her. ‘Surely you don’t want him to work at the Sanctuary his whole life.’

‘And what’s wrong with that? It’s been good enough for me.’ She hammered out the first sentence, but her voice backslid on the second. So it wasn’t her ideal life, but it was important, worthwhile. The work she did was more essential than one individual’s happiness. It supported so many. But Daniel, when he was old enough, could be whatever he wanted. Somehow, she’d make sure he could live his dreams.

‘Has it?’ The gentleness of his voice had her throwing up defences. ‘When I met you, you were full of dreams of travelling the world, photographing and writing about nature . . . discovering and documenting the wonders of the world. What happened?’

Her breath tripped and tumbled down her throat. She held her fingertips to her temples.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
Every word peeled off part of the protective story she’d given herself. Her work was vital in saving a species from extinction. Her work kept a whole community alive. Very few people achieved their dream life. If she didn’t carry on her mother’s pioneering work, who would? She’d promised . . .

‘I do good work,’ she whispered.

‘And so do I.’

Blake pulled a disc from the shelf and placed it in her hand.

‘We export educational programs all over the world. This is an education package we developed for the Australian School of the Air.’

Sarah took the disc and quickly scanned the back blurb. It sounded impressive. ‘I suppose —’

‘I want to know about Daniel’s schooling.’

She shoved the DVD back into place with such force the plastic cover cracked. ‘You can’t barge into our lives and think you can take over.’

‘Barge?’ Blake took her around the waist and pulled her close. A flush of heat raced up her chest.

‘Sarah, I thought about you every day since you disappeared from my life.’

His body moulded with her own with such perfection, she couldn’t fight him. God, she wanted to believe him. But they were words. Just words. She placed her palms on his chest and pushed. Just words in a sea of inaction.

‘That was a lifetime ago. Things can never be like that again.’

‘Why not?’ he said, reaching for her again.

She stepped away and walked to the door.

‘We live and work on the other side of the world.’ She pointed in the direction she thought Brunei might lie.
And you broke my heart
. She couldn’t risk that again. She couldn’t risk Daniel’s happiness on this man she barely knew. The men in her life always left. She pulled on the door handle, but a sea of touch-screen technology prevented her escape. She pulled again and again at the door. Humiliation, hot and obvious, flushed her cheeks.

Blake walked slowly to her side. He reached across her, his arm brushing her breast. A tingle washed all the way to her toes. He hit a series of buttons on the screen embedded in the wall.
Click.

‘See,’ he said, stepping back and holding open the door. ‘Everyone needs a basic level of technological understanding to operate in this world.’

‘Your world.’ She held her head aloft and walked past him into the corridor.

‘Blake.’ A man in his early thirties hurried towards them. He looked like a stereotypical computer geek. All glasses, ruffled clothes and an intense but pleasant face. ‘There’s an issue . . .’ He glanced at Sarah. ‘We need you up on twelve.’

Sarah didn’t miss the anxiety etched around the man’s eyes.

‘Thanks, Tom,’ said Blake. ‘I’ll be there in five.’

Tom walked briskly back the way he’d come.

‘Sorry, business calls.’ Blake led her to the lift. ‘I’ll have some magazines, books and snacks delivered to the boardroom. Hopefully, I can take you out for lunch.’

‘You plan to keep us locked up all day?’

‘You haven’t given me much choice.’

‘What if I promised not to run again?’

The lift opened. He stood back to let her enter, then followed. He waited until the doors closed and pinned her with a look filled with disappointment.

‘You lied about staying at the Imperial Hotel in Brunei all those years ago. You lied by omission when you failed to mention I had a son.’

The lift doors opened and he walked out. She followed him, wanting to explain but coming up short. The steel doors slid shut like a guillotine behind her, as though confirming the magnitude of her guilt.

‘And this morning, you tried to disappear to the other side of the world, taking my son with you.’ He walked her to the door of the boardroom, where Daniel sat, still engrossed in his game.

‘It’s going to take more than a few words to ever trust you again. In fact, the three words that spring to mind are deceitful, dishonest and deceptive.’ The words slid like knives across her heart.

He left her standing there, shattered by the callousness of his onslaught.

An hour later, after his meeting with Tom, Blake sat back in his office. He hammered his pen on his desk. One of the manufacturing plants had failed its quality-assurance test. There was still time to increase their orders from their other contract factories, but it would mean some orders arriving late. He flung his pen across his desk and paced in front of his floor-to-ceiling windows. His prowling brought no relief.