Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance

by Jennifer St George

  ‘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.

  The soft glow and surrounding extravagance pressed in. She’d have to take the deal. Any other course of action could end in catastrophe. But would dealing direct with Blake be any easier?

  She was outgunned, out of her depth and completely outmanoeuvred.

  Chapter Four

  The rich aroma of maple syrup and something delicious and buttery drew Sarah to the kitchen. The room was bigger than her entire house. She counted two cookers, three sinks and a fridge at least two metres wide. The centre of the fridge panel featured an elaborate coffee maker and she could swear the fridge handles were made of brass.

  Blake and Daniel sat next to each other at a hand-carved wooden table, heads together. Each sat in front of a huge plate of half-eaten pancakes. Blake’s upper body was covered only by a singlet, putting his muscled shoulders and arms on scintillating display. Her heart gave a little jolt and she drew in a quick breath. She hovered by the door, drinking in his powerful physique. It’d be much easier to deal with Blake if his handsome face and hot body didn’t mess so much with her ability to think with anything that resembled clarity.

  Daniel drew something on a sheet of paper. Blake appeared transfixed. He sat back and laughed.

  ‘That’s fantastic,’ Blake said. He spotted Sarah. She walked quickly into the room, pretending she’d only just arrived. Had he caught her staring?

  ‘Daniel can really draw.’ He held up the paper. Daniel had sketched a couple of orangutans throwing fruit at each other.

  ‘I know,’ she said, walking to the fridge to find something for breakfast. ‘I bought him a how-to-draw book. May I?’ she asked before opening the door.

  ‘Knock yourself out,’ Blake said, with a cocky little smile on his face.

  The fridge was empty except for a couple of bottles of wine, a block of blue cheese and a half-litre of milk. She turned her questioning gaze on Blake.

  ‘Can I get you some breakfast?’ he asked, getting up from the table. ‘Pancakes, cooked breakfast, toast?’

  Blake offering to cook? Now that was a surprise. This must be his way of apologising. But what was going to be more interesting was how he planned to make anything edible out of thin air.

  She took a seat next to Daniel and gave him a hug. ‘I’m impressed with the pancakes,’ she said. She’d enjoy watching the great man of business crack a few eggs.

  ‘Coming right up.’

  Blake picked up the phone mounted to the wall and dialled. ‘Morning again, Hugh. We’ll take another round of pancakes. Great. Thanks.’ He dropped the phone back in place as though ringing up to have breakfast delivered was what every person on the planet did every day. He must have caught her look of disbelief.

  ‘What?’ he asked.

  ‘You order in breakfast?’

  He sat and looked at her as though he was dealing with a five-year-old stuck on one plus one. ‘Time’s money. I outsource everything that’s not vital to my work. If you apply yourself to what’s most critical, you’ll always succeed. For example, the Sanctuary will close without enough money. You should have outsourced some of your workload to ensure fundraising was a priority.’

  She pressed her lips together. She wasn’t going to react. Overnight, she’d mulled over Blake’s deal and realised she’d been wedged into a corner. She needed the money. Blake had Daniel’s passport. She wasn’t going anywhere, so she might as well work the situation to her advantage. For the moment.

  ‘You’re absolutely right,’ she said. ‘And that’s exactly what you’re going to help me do for the next few months.’

  Blake tilted his head to the side and sported a what’s-your-game expression. ‘I don’t know if I trust this new conciliatory Sarah. You’ve got me all suspicious.’

  ‘Just planning to learn from the master. Now, can I use your phone?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘I’m calling the Sanctuary.’

  ‘Why don’t you Skype instead?’ Blake asked.

  ‘Skype?’

  Blake’s eyes rolled like a penny circling a drain. ‘Forget it. Use the phone in the office.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Sarah walked into Blake’s generously proportioned office. She took a seat in the fine leather chair behind the superbly restored Edwardian antique desk. She ran her hand over the smooth wood, shaking her head at the stark contrast of their lives. She did all her paperwork on her shabby pine dining-room table.

  She looked about for the phone. A sleek, black handset stood in an elaborate-looking phone station. It took her a few minutes to establish how it worked. She checked her watch. It was late in Brunei, but Tino would be doing the late-night check so he’d be sure to hear the phone. She dialled and waited.

  ‘Hope Orangutan Sanctuary, Tino speaking.’

  Hearing the Sanctuary’s operations manager’s voice made her stomach ache for home. At the Sanctuary, Tino was always able to put her at ease no matter what disaster they faced. So calm. So capable. So dedicated. He’d been with the organisation for thirty years and was one of the world’s top orangutan experts. ‘Hi, Tino. It’s Sarah.’

  She could picture him clearly, standing amid the chaos of her small living room. Her home was connected with the only phone at the Sanctuary. They’d rigged up a loudspeaker so the ring could be heard across the compound.

  ‘Have you landed?’ Tino sounded confused. ‘We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.’

  ‘Ah, there’s been a slight change of plan.’

  ‘Did you get the funding worked out?’ The hope in his voice reinforced the importance of her London mission.

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ She should have thought more about how this conversation would go before she’d dialled. ‘I have to work for it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve secured fifty-eight thousand pounds . . .’


  Tino gasped then whistled down the phone. ‘That’s fantastic. What sort of work did you have to do for that?’ Scepticism infused his tone. They’d both had experience with hollow funding promises.

  ‘I haven’t done it yet, but it means I have to stay in the UK for the next three months. I’m being connected with some pretty heavy marketing and finance hitters.’

  ‘You stay right there. If this is what you can achieve in a few days, imagine how much money you could raise in three months.’

  ‘Well, it’s not really that simple.’

  ‘Tell me no more and get back to work.’ Tino trusted very few people, but she was one of them. Tino had watched almost every move she’d made since she’d been a kid.

  ‘But how will you cope without us?’ she asked.

  ‘We can manage without you for a few months. In fact, if you can continue to bring in money like that, perhaps you should stay for even longer.’

  Sarah didn’t know how to feel; relieved that the Sanctuary continued without issue, or hurt that everything could run without her so effortlessly.

  ‘But you’ll be two hands down.’ She knew it was childish, but she wanted them to be a little bit desperate for her to return.

  ‘No, we’re fine. A couple of volunteers are arriving next week, so we’re all good.’

  ‘What about Sultan? Is he better?’

  ‘Much. Everything’s fine.’

  She was being an idiot. That operations continued without a hitch while she was gone was of course ideal.

  ‘How’s London?’ Tino asked.

  ‘Crowded.’

  Tino laughed. ‘Enjoy it. Remember how much you wanted to travel? That’s all you used to talk about when you were young.’

  Gosh. Tino was the second person in two days who’d reminded her of her lofty dreams. She slid her fingers across her forehead. She’d forgotten how she’d talked endlessly about travelling the world, photographing and reporting on important environmental issues. How she’d dreamed of working for National Geographic. Her internship with the Gazette would have been the first step.

  ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘It’s never too late, you know.’

  Yes, it is. The Sanctuary. Its enormous workload. Never enough funding or resources. And of course, Daniel. Life had danced all over her dreams. Tino was the most positive person she knew. He believed that in the end things always worked out for the best. With the amount of hardship they’d been through together keeping the Sanctuary running since her mother had died, she was always amazed at how he managed to stay upbeat.

  ‘Anyway,’ she said, dismissing the fantastic ideas of her youth. ‘I’d better go.’

  ‘Look after yourself. We all miss you and Daniel. Hug him for me.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Bye.’

  She hung up. What had she wanted? For Tino to beg her to come home? That he’d say the Sanctuary would fall apart without her? She stared out at the view and for a moment the world wobbled. If she wasn’t urgently needed at the Sanctuary, where did she fit?

  ‘Mum,’ Daniel called. ‘Your pancakes are here.’

  She pushed back the chair and walked to the door. Of course there was always one certainty. She was Daniel’s mother and that would never change.

  Sarah held Daniel’s hand as they walked through the foyer of Blake’s apartment building. The pale English summer reflected through the translucent walls. At least sunshine could penetrate the bulletproof glass. Daniel pulled away to marvel at a sculpture of two dancing cranes standing in their own crystal pond.

  ‘The car’s here,’ Blake said, leading them out of the complex.

  A valet climbed from a sleek black luxury four-wheel drive.

  ‘Whoa. Is that your car?’ Daniel cooed. ‘That’s awesome.’

  ‘Thanks, buddy. I like it,’ Blake said. He took the keys from the valet and slid a five-pound note into the man’s hand.

  Sarah folded her arms across her chest. ‘Nice to see you’re taking CO2 emissions seriously.’

  ‘As I’m hoping to enjoy my one day off, I’ll let that one slide,’ Blake replied.

  The valet loaded the most enormous Harrods food hamper into the back of the car.

  ‘I thought you said your sister was cooking lunch,’ Sarah said, reaching for the door handle. The valet got there first and opened the door with a flourish.

  Blake shooed him aside, took her hand and helped her into her seat. ‘I always bring something.’

  ‘Something,’ Sarah scoffed. ‘That would last a week at my house.’

  Daniel clambered into the back seat. ‘The chocolates wouldn’t,’ Daniel exclaimed, staring at the bounty behind him. Blake dug into the basket and fished out a couple of chocolate bonbons wrapped in gold foil. Daniel’s conspiratorial grin struck Sarah’s heart with a combination of happiness and fear. She looked away, unable to face what was unfolding before her eyes . . . a special bond between father and son. The whole situation left her feeling cold with confusion. How could this ever work? At least two oceans and a couple of fairly sizable seas lay between their two countries.

  Blake climbed behind the wheel and pulled the car into the chaos of London traffic.

  ‘So, where does you sister live?’ Sarah asked.

  ‘Richmond,’ Blake said, weaving expertly through the maze of vehicles. ‘You might even like it there.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she muttered.

  ‘London has loads to offer. Especially if you know where to look.’

  ‘Name three things that I’d like about this place,’ she challenged.

  ‘Computers, no insects and not to have to work in the mud,’ Daniel piped up from the back.

  Blake lobbed her a meaningful look. She didn’t have to be a mind-reader to guess his thoughts. He deserves better. She wanted to defend herself, but not in front of Daniel.

  ‘Three things,’ Blake said, his eyes steady on the traffic. ‘I’ll help you. Museums, art galleries and the theatre.’

  ‘Finished amusing yourself?’ she asked.

  ‘History, architecture and some of the best restaurants in the world.’ Blake indicated and changed lanes.

  ‘But those things don’t outweigh the negatives. Traffic, pollution, crowds, and from what I understand the cost of living here is astronomical.’

  ‘Everywhere has a downside.’

  The man had an answer for everything. Time to change the subject.

  ‘So, your sister . . . Jemma. She didn’t mind us crashing your family lunch?’

  ‘Mind?’ The smile creeping across Blake’s face clearly held a lot of meaning. Meaning she didn’t know quite how to interpret.

  It took them nearly an hour to travel to the borough of Richmond. Blake pulled through a series of roundabouts and suddenly they were surrounded by lush green parkland.

  ‘Look,’ Daniel exclaimed, pushing his face up against the glass. ‘Deer. Lots of them.’

  A herd of about twenty deer grazed a few metres from the car. Blake slowed and lowered the windows. The car filled with the sound of birds and the smell of summer.

  ‘The deer have been here since the sixteenth century,’ he said. ‘Richmond Park was originally a hunting park. Henry VIII introduced them. There’re about six hundred here.’

  They travelled in silence through miles and miles of delightful English parkland. Sarah couldn’t deny it was beautiful. Not jungle beautiful, but this parkland possessed a magical quality.

  ‘Those trees look really old,’ Daniel said.

  ‘They’re oak trees,’ Blake said. ‘Some have been here since the first days of the park. This place hasn’t changed much in centuries.’

  ‘You did this on purpose,’ Sarah said.

  ‘What on earth do you mean?’ Blake answered, his voice infused with false innocence.

  ‘All this,’ she said, gesturing at the beauty surrounding them. ‘You wanted to prove a point.’

  ‘So it’s a bit out of our way. But I knew you’d like it.�
� He shifted down a gear so they could cruise slowly past a stand of ancient oaks. ‘You know,’ he added in a low voice. ‘It might surprise you that my mission in life is not to make you unhappy. In fact, if you let me, my intentions are quite the opposite.’

  Sarah held a finger to her mouth to silently shush him and shook her head. ‘Not now,’ she mouthed, checking back to see if Daniel was listening. Fortunately, he was engrossed in the scenery.

  ‘I don’t think I can wait.’ The short sentence possessed a sharp edge.

  ‘We made a deal,’ she whispered.

  Sarah stared out of her window to end the conversation. She couldn’t yet face her new reality. Blake was back and he wanted Daniel. She couldn’t fathom how the puzzle of their lives would be solved.

  The car picked up speed.

  ‘Jemma lives around the corner.’ Blake’s voice had lost its tour-guide quality.

  Would he honour his agreement to keep his paternity a secret? Would Sarah ever be ready to drop that bombshell?

  Blake pulled up in front of a stunning historic home. Sarah swept her gaze over the magnificent example of British architecture. Over twenty faithfully restored Georgian windows gleamed in the late-morning sun. A chorus of eager faces appeared at one of them. Her seatbelt seemed to tighten around her chest.

  ‘I thought . . . Isn’t it just your sister’s family here?’

  ‘No. The whole family is, except Mum. She’s away. My three little sisters are here with their kids.’ Blake did a quick calculation. ‘Twenty-two in total. I didn’t mention that?’

  ‘No.’ Sarah pressed back into the protective cocoon of the car’s leather seat.

  ‘I did. I said family lunch.’

  ‘But . . .’ Too many people. Too many strangers. Rich strangers. Old sensitivities nipped at her insides. She glanced down at her outfit. She wore a dazzling floral summer dress from the selection hanging in her wardrobe. She’d felt pretty and confident when they’d left Blake’s apartment, but now . . . Her door opened.

  ‘Come on,’ Blake said, holding out his hand. ‘They don’t bite.’

  The front door of the house opened, and a woman in her mid-thirties strolled towards Blake. She wore white cotton capri trousers and a navy striped top teamed with simple ballet flats but looked chic enough for the Champs-Élysées. A huge smile lit her pretty face, highlighting her stunning blue eyes against her perfect blonde hair.