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The Billionaire's Kisses: Billionaire Brothers

Page 9

by Julie Farrell


  Amy grasped Adam’s mom’s proffered arm, wishing she could break down into those maternal arms and tell her the truth about her bastard son. But of course she couldn’t. She pulled her steely cloak back around herself – cursing herself for ever letting it drop – and reminded herself that yes she would be okay – as long as she stayed away from the back-stabbing double-crossing Adam Quinlan from now on.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Amy climbed out of the car and jogged in her heels up the hotel steps, wanting nothing but peace, solitude, and the contents of her minibar. Her body throbbed with dismal humiliation and stormy anger. She’d spent the entire car journey back here churning over what she’d heard Adam saying to his brothers about letting her go. It was the dismissiveness of it all that hurt so much. It’d all happened so fast – in mere seconds her delusion that Adam might care for her had been sliced with sharp shears – like snipping the strings of a marionette. Now Amy’s mind flailed in a lonesome wasteland, unsure of how to deal with this.

  Why the hell had she allowed him to get under her skin? She’d been so determined not to let it happen, precisely because she knew she’d get slammed in the chest with Adam’s unfeeling iron-fist – and now she was paying the price.

  She stepped through the ornate door into the hotel lobby, and her dream of tranquillity exploded. It was like Times Square at rush hour. Businesspeople and tourists swarmed everywhere, like buzzing insects in an electric storm. She braced herself, then strode across the lobby, but a crowd of sightseers blocked her way as they lined up with their tour-guide. She glanced around for an alternative route and set off again, squeezing past chattering bodies and cursing this assault course of a journey to the elevator. The artificial lights dazzled her weary psyche – it was like being swept around in a hurricane.

  Amy pushed through the lively bustle and towards the sanctuary of the elevator, determined to get to her room, so she could have a calming shower and get shit-faced. Everything would be fine. She’d coped with worse than this. Sure, her heart was broken and her job was at risk, but so what? She would simply stay away from men from now on, and she’d easily find a new job; a job she truly loved. She just needed to get through this pain and survive, exactly as she had so many times before.

  She halted at the elevator door, but the sound of a man shouting her name made her body tense up like an steel rod. Obviously this was going to be Adam, chasing after her and begging for forgiveness. Would she give it to him? No, definitely not… Well, probably not. It depended what he had to say for himself.

  He called her name again, drawing close behind her now. She spun on her heel, ready to confront him for being a bastard. But she recoiled as she realised it wasn’t Adam.

  Standing calmly in the eye of the hurricane around them was Tariq Shard.

  He was staring intensely, but smiling gently. Fear gripped Amy’s body, eclipsing her other jangling emotions. Tariq was obviously here for her. But why? Perhaps the time had come to hear him out – the Quinlans were liars, and – after all – she was here to protect the interests of Grafton Techs. But her emotions were raw, and she didn’t know if she could handle more bad news right now. What if he told her something terrible and she humiliated herself by breaking into Adam-induced tears? Or worse – what if he was a murderer? No, she wasn’t going to give him any time this evening. If it was that urgent, Tariq could speak to her tomorrow. She’d had enough of men for tonight.

  She turned back to press the elevator call button.

  “Ms Carter,” he said. “I’d like to talk to you. I mean you no harm.”

  “I’m not interested. Leave me alone.”

  Amy stared at the elevator doors, willing them to open. Her heart thumped in her throat. Maybe she should call Adam to let him know Tariq was here?

  Tariq spoke again. “I was just wondering which one of them you’re sleeping with?”

  Amy’s anger snapped. “How dare you!”

  He smiled sympathetically, and Amy chastised herself for falling for his trick to get her attention.

  The elevator doors swished open and a couple of businessmen deep in conversation strode out. Amy pulled herself up to her full height. “Good night, Mr Shard.”

  “There’s something you need to know about the Quinlan brothers. Something important.”

  Amy willed herself to stride into the elevator, but her feet were seemingly frozen to the floor. The doors swished shut, and she cursed her curiosity. She didn’t dare look at Tariq, so she stared ahead, but they both knew he’d piqued her interest.

  “I’d like to tell you everything about Adam Quinlan, Ms Carter.”

  Unable to resist, she turned to face him. He was dressed in a fine suit, and he was cleanly shaven – chin and head. His bulk and height made him look like a model or a football player, but his face was gentle and kind. That awful scar on his face sullied his appearance, and sympathy twisted inside Amy’s chest, but she pushed it away – she’d already been duped by one man in New York; better not make it two.

  “What of Adam?” she asked.

  “Let’s sit down over there. Don’t worry, we’ll be out in the open – seen by everyone in the lobby. You’re in no danger.”

  Amy clutched her purse for protection and strolled with him back to the leather couch where a few party-goers were posing for a selfie. The party-goers drifted away, so Amy sat down cautiously, feeling relatively safe with the throng of people around. And Tariq actually seemed pretty harmless. He was well-mannered and softly spoken. Not actually a thug, as she’d been led to believe.

  Tariq sat down too, keeping a respectful distance between them. He rested his hands in his lap and spoke with emotion in his voice. “I’ve known Adam my whole life – I’ve known them all my whole life. Our fathers were in the army together – we were all firm friends before Ivan died.”

  “From what I hear, you killed Ivan.”

  Tariq’s brow crumpled with pain. “I didn't intentionally kill him, you have my word. I started the fire and I’ll be charged for that. But it wasn’t murder. I never would’ve caused Ivan harm.”

  “Look, what's this got to do with me?”

  “I need to know how you feel about Adam.”

  “I hate him. I think he’s an asshole.”

  Tariq smirked knowingly. “Really? He’s already got that far under your skin, huh?”

  Amy clenched her hands in her lap. “My patience is running out, Mr Shard. What do you want?”

  Tariq absent-mindedly scratched himself on the arm. “I was wondering, do you know how Quinlan Senior made his first few million after he left the army?”

  “No, but I’ve got a feeling you’re about to tell me.”

  “It’s not a pretty tale. Quinlan Senior invited my dad to get involved, but it was too sordid for him. He was good friends with Quinlan Senior by then, though, and they remained friends despite Quinlan’s shady dealings.”

  “What shady dealings?”

  “The shady dealings of the head of the family you’re getting mixed up with.”

  “I’m not getting mixed up with them. It’s just business.”

  “Sure, okay. Well, just to let you know – in case it ever becomes more than just business – Quinlan Senior made his first million by running guns for a drugs cartel – that’s the truth. You can ask Adam or Dylan – they’ll confirm it.”

  Amy forced herself to remain cool at this revelation. “Well, I’m surprised to hear that. I met Mr Quinlan tonight and he seemed very nice. And anyway, that gun-running stuff was obviously a long time ago. And it’s nothing to do with Quinlan Brothers now.” The thick air squeezed tightly around Amy as the stark realisation struck her. “Or is it?”

  “No, I don’t think Quinlan Senior’s involved in the drugs or guns anymore. But really, I guess, who knows? Anyway, there’s something else I need to tell you about the Quinlan family. Can I show you something?”

  “Am I going to be able to stop you?”

  He chuckled kindly. “I want t
o show you the very last photo that was taken of Ivan.”

  Amy’s insides writhed with apprehension, as if Tariq was about to pull an AK47 on her. Did she really want to see this? He rummaged in the pocket of his jacket and grabbed his phone, then he held it up to show Amy the screen.

  Her gaze fell on the photo, and shock zoomed in to replace her wobbly confusion about this odd scenario. The picture on Tariq’s phone showed a youngish man bound and gagged with a red silk ribbon, lying on a metal-framed bed in a cheap hotel room. He was an attractive brunette and – even though he had his eyes closed – it was plain to see he was a Quinlan.

  A tourniquet of terror gripped Amy’s muscles. “You did murder him?”

  “No, no, no, Ms Carter.” Sadness swept over Tariq’s face. “Ivan and I were lovers; he was the love of my life.”

  Amy couldn’t pull her gaze away from the photo now – what the hell was going on?

  Tariq spoke with affection. “This was a game we enjoyed. Asphyxiation… Look, you can see my handprints on his neck. We always knew how far to go – it was a mutual pleasure of ours.”

  Amy’s mind buzzed with bewilderment. “How do I know this is even Ivan? I don’t know what he looked like. Why are you telling me this?”

  “I can show you more if you like?”

  “No, please...” Amy composed herself. “Mr Shard, I’m terribly sorry that you’ve lost the love of your life, but I really don’t see what this has got to do with me. I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep.”

  “Ms Carter, I won’t lie, I want Grafton Techs for myself. You were my idea. You’re supposed to be mine, but Ivan told his brothers about you, and they stole you. Just like they stole my blueprints.”

  “Yes, but –”

  “Come and work for me.”

  Shock burst out of Amy in the form of laughter. “Work for you? Mr Shard, Grafton Techs is going to Quinlan Brothers whether we like it or not. The contracts are pretty much done and if we don’t sign them, they’ll just take us over in an aggressive manner.” And wouldn’t that be typical of Adam, Amy now realised. The humiliating conversation she’d overheard back at the party trickled into her mind, and she sat up tall, hoping to retain some dignity. “But call me in six months, though. I’ll probably be in the job market then.”

  “Well, okay. But until then, how would you like to be a spy for me?”

  “What? Why would I do that?”

  “I’m wondering where your loyalties lie. I think you like Adam a lot. So if you don’t spy for me, I’ll tell the world about Quinlan Senior’s gun-running past; the family name will be ruined. How much do you care about Adam, Ms Carter? Enough for his father’s name to be dragged through the dirt? And maybe I’ll even show the papers these little photos of my dearest Ivan – wouldn’t that make you spy for me?”

  “Go ahead; Adam’s family isn’t my business. Why should I care?”

  “Well, maybe I’m wrong and you don’t care for him. Let’s see what you decide, okay. You have until 5pm tomorrow – that's when you're leaving New York, right?”

  Amy furrowed her brow. “You just said you loved Ivan. Why would you do this to his memory? To his family?”

  “All those years I wanted to be with him, but we had to keep it a secret. His father – old Quinlan – isn’t the liberal-minded man he’d like to think. Ivan was closeted all his life.”

  “They didn’t know he was gay? None of them?”

  “No. And this will be my revenge for him unless you do as I’m requesting. I’d do anything to get my hands on Grafton Techs, just as Adam would.”

  He smirked knowingly. Was he suggesting that Adam had only slept with her as part of the negotiations? To make sure she toed the line? Amy suddenly didn’t doubt it.

  She glared into Tariq’s deep brown eyes. “But I don’t understand. What is it that’s so vital about my company? I mean, I know we’re good, but…”

  “It’s a race to get our technology out there, Ms Carter. We’re on the cusp of something revolutionary. The Quinlans are using you and all your staff, but I’m determined to win this. If you spy for me now, I guarantee you a job whenever you need one. And I’ll even give you a share in the profits. Let me know your decision before you leave New York. Okay?”

  Any opened her mouth to ask for more information about this mystery technology, but Tariq suddenly stood up.

  “Thank you for your time, Ms Carter. I’m so glad we had this chat. I look forward to hearing your decision tomorrow afternoon. Goodnight.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Amy dragged herself back to her room, feeling outside of herself. It was as if the real her was on the ceiling, observing herself from above. Was this really happening? She hadn’t signed up for any of this – she just wanted to do her job, but now suddenly she was being manipulated by Adam and Tariq. Her muscles tensed of their own accord and she decided she wasn’t standing for it any longer. They could squabble amongst themselves and leave her out of it.

  She turned off her cell phone – to avoid any more drama tonight – then she opened up the fridge in her room and pulled out two vodka miniatures, which she downed directly from the bottle. She gasped as the alcohol rasped her throat, burning the inside of her cheeks. But it gave the room a nice soothing warmth, softening the edges of her surly mood.

  Through blurry eyes, she opened up her laptop and searched for images of Ivan Quinlan. Yep, that had definitely been him bound and gagged. But was it really that much of a scandal these days? People were gay and this was New York.

  But it was Quinlan Senior’s gun running that Tariq was planning to expose, wasn’t it. And it probably wouldn’t exactly do the Quinlans’ reputation much good if the papers got a-hold of those bondage photos of Ivan. The public loved a scandal; the shareholders would surely go ballistic. Quinlan Brothers certainly would be affected by Tariq’s plans.

  Amy sat on her bed and tried to think straight, but the vodka was now preventing that from happening. Her mind surged with confusion. What should she do? Tell Adam the truth about his dad? About his dead brother? Or should she allow Tariq to blackmail her? Become his spy? No way.

  She laid down on her bed and allowed her devastation to crack, letting it gush out in a hard sob. The tears rolled down her cheeks, and she wished she’d never met Adam. She resented Tariq for putting her in this position. It was as if he’d taken away her last shred of innocence by poisoning her with this truth. She had no idea what to do. She was stuck between two men who had a nasty history between them. She wanted to go home.

  Amy’s mind started to drift into unconsciousness, but she jolted as the landline by the bed rang. She sat up to answer it and the room spun furiously after all that vodka.

  “Yesh?”

  “Ma’am, this is reception. We have an Adam Quinlan here to see you, asking if he can come up or if you can come down?”

  “No,” she muttered. “Tell him I’m unwell with a debilitating migraine, but I will be at the meeting in the morning. Thank you. Please don’t call me again.”

  Amy slammed down the handset. Then she leaned over and unplugged the phone from the wall. She quickly set the alarm on her cell for seven, and turned the ringer to silent, determined to close off any avenue of contact from anyone for the rest of the night.

  She laid there in the thumping quiet, totally agitated. Her body felt fidgety – too twitchy to sleep – so she decided to take a shower. She padded to the bathroom and undressed, then she caught sight of Adam’s beautiful pendant nestling between her breasts. She gazed at her naked reflection in the mirror and fingered the blue jewel, wondering why he’d taken the time to bestow this item of sentimental value upon her, when she obviously didn’t mean as much to him as he’d made out. Amy bit her lip and tried to make sense of it all. Perhaps she ought to give it back to him? Or maybe she’d keep it and sell it – it looked expensive. Maybe that’s what all Adam’s other conquests would do…

  She shook herself out of her thoughts and climbed und
er the powerful shower, and – as the warm water soothed her weary body – she realised she just needed to get through tomorrow, and then she’d get her flight back to London and leave all this behind.

  But her heart throbbed with a tender bruise. Despite him being an asshole, she actually felt an overwhelming affection for Adam. He had, after all, helped her to discover the power of the female orgasm – that wonderful, exciting, new experience that had unlocked an inner-confidence. Amy really didn’t want Adam to be humiliated by Tariq. For reasons unknown to her, she wanted to keep him and his reputation safe. She was obviously more of a sucker than she’d thought.

  She washed her skin clean under the warm water, deciding that maybe at the meeting tomorrow she could blurt out what happened tonight, and then Adam and his cronies could deal with it, and she could start looking for a new job.

  She turned off the shower and climbed out to drip on the bathroom floor, then she gazed at her naked body in the steamed-up mirror and sighed. She hated feeling like this; like a victim. Powerless. If only there was a way to make herself feel as powerful as she’d done earlier, when her soul had soared with the magnificent orgasm from Adam. She shook herself out of it and cleaned her teeth, then – as she dropped her toothbrush back into the glass by the sink – a wicked thought struck her and she grinned. She dried off her toothbrush handle, then strode back to her room, where she slid her warm clean body between the tight fresh sheets. She laid her head back on the soft pillow and raised her hand to fondle her breasts. Her nipple hardened and she imagined Adam sucking it in that wonderful way that he did.

  Oh yes…

  She eased her other hand downwards and gently skimmed her fingers over her clit. The tangy pleasure washed through her body and excitement swirled. She grinned and lowered the rubbery toothbrush handle down there, too, then she softly rubbed. It was thrilling to be doing this for herself for the first time; it was like discovering another dimension – which had actually been there all along. She’d found the key to her own box of delights. Perhaps this was what it felt like to find god or to fall in love. In love with herself.

 

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