Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance (6 page)

The production timeline was tight and any deviation would mean two things. One, they wouldn’t hit their global launch date and two, it gave the competition more time to discover what they had planned. And what they had planned would be the biggest thing to hit the games industry this decade.

He stared across the vista of London’s Tech City. He’d been one of the first to invest in the area as it had developed into one of Europe’s biggest technology clusters. Some of the top names in technology were his neighbours: Google, Facebook, Amazon, Intel. Hunt-F’s new game, codenamed
Everest
, would catapult his company from a mid-tier player to a global computer-game leader. Soon Hunt-F Tech’s brand would be synonymous with leading-edge technology.

Linda appeared at the door. ‘Henry’s here to see you,’ she said.

‘Send him in.’

His private investigator walked into the room, closing the door behind him.

‘Henry,’ Blake said, indicating the seat across his desk.

Henry was dressed in his usual uniform of nondescript but smart clothes. He never drew attention to himself and never looked out of place. He had an uncanny skill of fitting in anywhere. A chameleon. He was the best investigator in the city. That was why he worked exclusively for Hunt-F Tech. He was loyal, he was discreet and he was efficient.

‘What’s up?’ Henry asked. ‘I’d have called if we had a leak.’

‘I need something else,’ Blake said.

Henry sat forward. ‘Let’s hear it.’

‘I discovered yesterday I have a son. He’s nine. His name’s Daniel Walker.’ He kept his voice calm and even, but his insides twisted. Telling Henry made it suddenly seem much more real.

Henry nodded, but beyond that, didn’t react. Nothing rattled Henry.

‘He’s the result of a one-night stand I had in Brunei when my father and I worked on that internet project in early 2000.’ Two parts of the sentence seriously stretched the truth. It definitely hadn’t been a one-night stand; Sarah had been unlike any other woman. As for working, well, he’d basically spent the entire time by the pool pursuing Sarah. While his father finalised the internet deal, Blake had acted every inch the spoilt rich kid out for a good time.

‘They’re here now. In the boardroom. His mother, Sarah, tried to sneak out of the country with Daniel this morning.’ He clenched his fists under the desk then slowly released them. Every discussion about Daniel brought up unwelcome and complicated feelings. Feelings that brought up too many issues he wanted to keep buried. ‘I want a court ruling to keep him here.’

Henry pulled a notebook from his top pocket. ‘Tell me everything you know.’

‘Right.’ Where would he start? What did he really know about Sarah? About Daniel? ‘Sarah runs the Hope Orangutan Sanctuary in Brunei, and has done since her mother died. I believe it’s an hour or so from the capital, near the south-east border with Borneo.’

Henry asked a few questions. Blake told him what he knew, which wasn’t much. The facts he had about Sarah’s life, his son’s life, wouldn’t fill a post-it note.

‘If she gets him back to Brunei, things will be much trickier with regard to custody,’ Henry pointed out.

‘I figured as much. She won’t be going anywhere in the immediate future.’ Blake rubbed his fingers over his left temple. ‘Go to Brunei and find out everything you can that’d help in a custody battle, and get me the best family lawyer in the country. Have him call me this afternoon.’

Henry stood. ‘No problem.’

Blake walked the investigator to the lifts, making sure Henry got a good look at Sarah and Daniel on his way past the boardroom.

‘Obviously, she can’t know,’ Blake said, holding the lift doors. An uncomfortable sensation of guilt nudged his conscience, but he pushed it aside. He’d have worked with Sarah to move forward on the Daniel issue, but she’d erased any possibility of cooperation with her absconding stunt. No, now she’d be treated like any other competitor – ruthlessly.

‘There won’t be a trace,’ Henry said. ‘I’ll have a report in,’ he paused, ‘a week.’

‘Excellent.’

Blake left his investigator and made his way down to the boardroom. Sarah’s voice floated out the open door. ‘. . . So we’ll have to stay in London a little longer. Hopefully, I’ll have the ticket problems all sorted in a few days.’

‘I don’t mind if we stay longer,’ Daniel said.

Blake knew it was probably the excitement of London, but hearing those words flow from his son’s mouth quickened his pulse. Daniel wanted to stay. In Blake’s house. With him.

‘I know, darling,’ Sarah continued, ‘but I’m worried about the Sanctuary. They’re two hands down without us. You know how sick Sultan is.’

Sultan. Who the hell is Sultan?
Blake looked through the glass into the room. Daniel sat close to his mother.

‘Don’t worry, Mum, it’ll be okay. We’ll work it out. We always do.’

Blake walked back to his office. That monkey centre had a hold over both of them; one he was determined to break.

‘Daniel’s asleep.’

Sarah walked into Blake’s penthouse living room. Blake sat casually on the couch, work papers in hand.

‘Excellent.’ Blake put aside the papers and stood.

Damn. The man could rock a T-shirt and jeans better than James Dean. Her eyes swept quickly over every inch of his body. She remembered when they’d been skin to skin. She diverted her attention to the night-time view of London to distract herself from her X-rated thoughts.

Dancing lights surrounded the dark void of Hyde Park. The traffic glowed like a luminous snake down the wide streets. The thick glass prevented any urban sounds from invading the space. So different to home, where the nights were so black and the jungle noises wild.

‘Drink?’ Blake asked, crossing to the well-stocked bar.

‘No thanks,’ she said, keeping her eyes on the view and her mind well away from naked nights.

The clink of glasses sounded behind her. Blake came over and held out a crystal tumbler.

‘Gin and tonic, if I’m not mistaken?’

He remembered?
She took the drink, but the cool glass did nothing to quell the slow luscious burn in her stomach. Being alone with Blake was a complete cookbook of danger.

‘Thanks,’ she said, not giving him any credit for his impressive memory.

He sipped his drink. She couldn’t help breathing deeply of the intoxicating smell of freshly showered man and whisky.

‘I can’t keep you locked up in my boardroom while we sort this out,’ he said.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I’d give you a gold star in kidnapping.’

‘You only have yourself to blame for that.’

She wanted to argue, but what was the point? She had no money, no power and no way of escape.

‘So? What’s your plan? Turn on the TV and chain us both to the sofa each morning before you leave? Leave milk and cookies just out of our reach to add to our torment?’

He tilted his head to the side as if to consider her proposal. Infuriating, impossible man.

‘An attractive suggestion, but no.’ He took her hand and led her to the sofa. ‘I have a proposition for you,’ he said, sitting down next to her.

Sarah’s eyes widened. He thought . . . ‘I’m not going to sleep with you.’

Blake’s eyebrow arched higher than the Sydney Harbour Bridge. His amused smile turned seductive.

‘What?’ she demanded. What was it about this man that made her want to periodically kill him?

‘It wasn’t going to be that sort of proposition, but I’d happily consider sex as part of the deal.’

Heat roared like a bonfire into her cheeks. Oh, hell. Her errant thoughts had put sex front and centre and it wasn’t even on his agenda. She wanted to storm off, get away from this maddening man. Instead, she glanced at the array of crystal tumblers within nice, easy reach. Smashing every one at his feet would surely wipe away that smug expression. Then those pretty porcelain lamps that were probably worth as much as the crown jewels. Smash. Smash. Smash.

He followed her gaze. ‘Be my guest,’ he said. ‘Break them all if it makes you feel better.’

She crushed her lips together. She couldn’t even imagine her own dramatic acts without him being one step ahead.

She took a seat on the sofa opposite him. Increasing the distance between them helped her equilibrium.

‘What’s your proposition?’ she demanded.

‘Fifty thousand pounds for the Sanctuary and you stay in the UK for the next three months,’ Blake said.

She stole a sharp, shallow breath. She’d planned to hold her face in a mask of indifference to any proposition he’d dealt, but she knew her expression betrayed her shock. Fifty thousand pounds! Half the Sanctuary’s annual budget.

‘But there are conditions,’ he added.

She narrowed her eyes. Of course there were conditions.

‘I’m sure they’re very reasonable,’ she said, heaping on the cynicism.

‘You’ll receive the money in instalments and you and Daniel will live with me.’

She opened her mouth to object. He held up a hand.

‘Wait, I’m not finished.’ He paused to ensure he still had her attention. ‘Daniel will go to school with my nephew, Tom, and if there’s even a hint that you’re planning to leave, you can expect the full force of the law.’

She held her body rigid to stop herself from doing something foolish.

‘Finished?’ she asked, her voice gritty.

‘I’ll wait until I hear a yes from you.’

She wanted to fight, to scream, to crumble his tower of supremacy, but with what? She was in no position of power. She had to negotiate. Negotiate to get all she could. ‘I have some conditions of my own.’

He threw her an I’m-listening-but-don’t-expect-anything look. ‘You’re not in a position to bargain.’

She lifted her drink to give herself time to think. She needed to work this to her advantage. If she could solve the Sanctuary’s funding problems then that would eliminate one of his points of leverage.

‘The income from the Trust your father established ten years ago is the reason we’re in so much trouble now.’

‘And how do you figure that?’

‘If we hadn’t had the guarantee of those funds each month we’d have been forced to develop fundraising experience . . . skills. After your cash injection’s gone, we’ll have no money, no skills and we’ll be in the same position we’re in now.’

He laughed. ‘And you’re laying your ineptitude at my door?’

Ineptitude. That stung. She grazed her teeth across her lip to stop a sharp retort.

‘Yes. Your money lulled us into a false sense of security.’ She knew this audacious argument was more ridiculous than sensible, but it was the only thing she could think of. ‘After three months I’ll be back where I started. No sustainable income for the Sanctuary. And how can I trust that the money will come? You could cut and run like you did last time.’

‘We didn’t cut and run. The Trust was established for a ten-year term. The term was up.’

‘Hang on . . .’ A logical progression of events ran through her mind and ended with a worrying scenario. ‘You want the Sanctuary to fail. If it fails, you think there’s nothing to keep us in Brunei.’ She shifted forward in her chair. ‘But you’re wrong. I’ll start from scratch and build it again.’

‘Do you really think I’d destroy a valuable animal-rescue project to get what I want?’

‘The thing is, Blake, I don’t know. I don’t know what you’re capable of. But I need to develop a sustainable funding stream for the Sanctuary, and you’re going to help me.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes. If I’m going to be stuck here for three months, you can . . . help me with a business plan. I’ll come to work with you every day and you can hook me up with your marketing and financial experts. And . . .’ Her mind raced. What did she really want? Time. Time to think. Time to plan. Time to get to know the man she was dealing with. She’d never been good at making quick decisions and years of routine in the jungle had only further dulled that skill. ‘And, we don’t tell Daniel about you until the Sanctuary’s financial position is safe. He knows all about the trouble we’re in and landing a missing father on him will be too much.’

‘Done.’ He gripped her hand and shook on the deal.

‘But . . . Wait . . .’ She hadn’t even had a chance to challenge him about Daniel’s schooling. ‘We need to nut out the details. I don’t know anything about this school.’ She wasn’t going to let Blake choose a school without her input. Daniel’s input.

‘It’s one of the best in the country.’

‘It might not be right for Daniel.’

‘I’ve already enrolled him. He starts at the end of the summer holidays. I’ve arranged for you and Daniel to have a tour next week.’

She landed her drink on the table with a crash and flew to her feet. ‘How dare you think you can have a say in Daniel’s education?’ If she had weak arteries, they would have exploded.

‘This is where you seem to be having some difficulty, Sarah.’ Her adversary eased himself from the sofa, her height advantage lost in a moment. ‘I have equal say in what happens in Daniel’s life from this point on. If you fight me, you might find you won’t even have half.’

The room dimmed a fraction. Her vision faltered.

‘You need to remember that I have every right to walk into Daniel’s room right now and tell him who I am,’ Blake said. ‘But I can see you need time, so I’m giving it to you. I suggest you take the deal,’ he said, his voice holding a deadly-sharp edge. ‘The other option is court and from what my lawyer’s outlined, you won’t want to leave Daniel’s fate in the hands of this country’s legal system.’

A ripple of despair washed over her skin. The idea of dragging Daniel through a lengthy court battle . . . the lawyers . . . the risk of a poor outcome . . . losing him. Her chest shrank, driving the air from her lungs.

‘I’ll speak to you in the morning when I hope you’ve acquired some level of rationality.’ He walked from the room, leaving her alone, surrounded with sumptuous luxury. She slumped back onto the smooth leather and stared at the ridiculous chandelier. It was as though Blake had the lights of LA plastered across his ceiling.

She rubbed her eyes with her palms, but the action channelled exhaustion to her very core. Her heart pumped out a desolate refrain.
You’re trapped. You’re trapped. You’re trapped.