Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance

by Jennifer St George

  ‘Remind me how you work one of these things.’ He made a show of inspecting the antiquated device.

  ‘Hilarious,’ she said, filling a battered metal kettle. ‘Tea?’

  ‘Prefer something stronger.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll pop off to the bottle shop, shall I?’ she said, her voice laced with exaggerated sarcasm. She placed the kettle on the stove and lit the gas burner.

  ‘Lucky for you I came prepared.’ He pulled two bottles of champagne from his overnight bag and handed them over. The fridge looked even older than the phone. Sarah yanked on the archaic door. The rusted hinges groaned.

  ‘See, we have all the mod cons in this house,’ Sarah said, smiling sweetly.

  Blake dialled London.

  ‘Linda, just ringing in to see if you have the top line numbers for Food Fight.’

  Linda gave him the numbers and a breakdown of sales in their major markets. He’d expected good results, but this? This was stratospheric. He locked eyes with Sarah. Her face held hope and expectation and trepidation. He’d enjoy brushing aside the anxiety in her eyes.

  ‘Thanks, Linda. See you in a few days.’ He dropped the telephone receiver back into its plastic cradle.

  ‘Well?’ Sarah stood rigid.

  ‘One hundred thousand.’

  She looked confused. ‘One hundred thousand what?’

  ‘One hundred thousand copies of Orangutan Food Fight have been downloaded in the last six hours.’

  Her face morphed with classic signs of shock. ‘So . . . that means . . .’

  ‘That means that the Sanctuary has already made twenty-five thousand pounds.’

  Sarah grabbed the kitchen bench. ‘Twenty-five thousand in six hours,’ she breathed.

  ‘We did it,’ he said.

  ‘Really? Really?’ Sarah skipped across the floor and threw her arms about his neck. ‘I don’t believe it. Everything is going to be okay.’

  ‘We’re going to be fine.’ He stroked her hair and held her trembling body.

  With the Sanctuary on a strong financial footing, they could now have a sensible conversation about the future. The future that involved a move for Sarah and Daniel to London. A permanent move.

  Her heart hammered relief through her veins. That weight of being responsible for her staff, her volunteers, her animals, the Sanctuary. The weight that held her captive and stole her sleep. Gone. That weight was gone. Twenty-five thousand pounds in six hours. That would surely mean fifty thousand by breakfast. And based on the financial projections presented to her last week, they were already ahead of estimates. She hadn’t really believed those numbers. She’d really thought the game was a case of too good to be true. But no. She nuzzled closer into Blake’s chest. Blake had made fantasy reality.

  All the years of hard grind, the rain and the mud. All the years of flighty volunteers, of struggling to pay the bills and setbacks. All the years of isolation, being alone and dreams long lost. Blake had swept away that entire uncertainty with some mystical computer magic.

  And Blake. The sound of his strong heartbeat sounded in her ear. She’d totally misjudged him. What he stood for. He really cared about making the world a better place. Making her world a better place.

  Blake held her close and smoothed her hair over and over.

  His gentle touch threatened to burst the dam of unshed tears. She shook in his arms.

  ‘It’s okay now,’ he said.

  She inhaled his lovely scent. A woody mix of cinnamon mingled with the lush bouquet of the jungle that tinged his clothes. A tear slid from her cheek and melted into his cotton shirt. He slipped his finger under her chin and tilted her face to his.

  ‘You don’t have to do this alone any more.’

  How could he read her so completely? He placed his hands on either side of her face. She couldn’t meet his eyes but finally she lifted hers to accept his dark penetrating gaze. What she found frightened and thrilled her. She pulled away slightly.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’ His voice was like wood-smoke wisps on a breeze.

  ‘Blake, I . . .’ He brushed her mouth gently with his lips, stealing away her words. His hands slid into her hair. He deepened the kiss, probing past her defences and exploring freely. Heat travelled through her body to forbidden places, wanting places. She ran her hands over his back, feeling every muscle beneath the light fabric. With zero conviction, she willed herself to pull away. This was a bad idea. This would make everything complicated. Too complicated. This . . . this feeling . . . Her mind fought for focus. His hand skimmed her breast and every molecule of her body screamed to feel the weight of his body on hers.

  He pulled back, his breathing hot, heavy and demanding. The hunger in his eyes should have terrified her, but she craved it, wanted to fan it, wanted to make him crazy.

  ‘If you don’t want this, tell me to leave now,’ he rasped.

  She ached in places almost forgotten. She didn’t want to think. She didn’t want to fight. She wanted . . . She just wanted. She grasped his hand and silently led him to the bedroom.

  ‘Close the door.’ The anticipation in her body was heavier than the sultry jungle air.

  He did as commanded. Coming behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and down her thighs, drawing her up hard against his body. His erection pressed ruthlessly against her back. She gasped a shuddered breath. He kissed the sensitive skin of her neck. Every touch more intense, more demanding. She tossed her head back to give him uninhibited access, her skin on fire under his searching mouth.

  His hands slipped under her shirt and explored across her stomach, skimmed tantalisingly close to her breasts. Her nipples tightened, demanding his touch. She turned in his arms and claimed his mouth. Wanting him, tasting him. She needed to feel him, skin on slick skin. She reached for her top button, but he gripped her hand.

  ‘I’ll do that.’

  He tore off her clothes, but even so the wait was interminable. She pulled at his buttons and stripped his shirt from his body. She smothered his chest with her hands, her lips.

  He walked her backwards and she fell on the bed. He kicked out of his trousers and covered her with his body. He licked and nipped and explored. Driving her higher, higher.

  ‘Now,’ she begged. ‘Now.’

  He pulled away from her.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked, her voice barely audible, as though he’d robbed her of the ability to speak.

  ‘I learn from history,’ he said, coming back with a condom. He ripped open the foil wrapper and sheathed himself. He gripped her hips and positioned her exactly where he wanted her. And then he thrust inside.

  The world stopped spinning. Her mind stopped working. Time stopped passing. She groaned with ten years of lost passion and arched for more. More. More. He thrust again and again. She pulled her knees up on either side of his body. She wanted him deeper, deeper, deeper.

  This wasn’t fumbling adolescent sex. This was adult. This was equal. This was give. This was take. He stoked her pleasure over and over, until her inner muscles became tight and frenzied.

  This is what she’d been waiting for. This is what she’d dreamed about. Their eyes locked and Blake took her to heaven. Her dull grey life exploded in technicolour.

  Chapter Eight

  Sarah’s eyes fluttered open. The deep black of pre-dawn enveloped her. The sounds of the forest waking hummed through the darkness. She lay nestled in Blake’s arms with her cheek pressed against his chest. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, safe in Blake’s protective custody. The tang of sex and raw man mingled sweetly in her nostrils.

  She stretched. The cotton sheet slipped down to her waist. The light breeze from the ceiling fan caressed her skin. Parts of her body tingled from their incredible sexual workout. She snuggled up closer, not wanting the dawn to break, wanting the moment to last. For time to stop.

  ‘Morning, beautiful.’ Blake’s sleepy voice slid over her like crystal seawater on a sticky hot day. He ran his hand dow
n her back, pressing their bodies together. He kissed her long and deep and languorously.

  ‘Let’s stay in bed all day.’ He hauled her on top of him.

  ‘No,’ she said, sitting astride his luscious body. ‘It’s release day.’

  ‘You won’t be going anywhere if you stay sitting on me.’

  She felt his hardness firm beneath her. He slid his hand behind her neck and drew her lips to his. He took what he wanted.

  She pulled away, laughing. ‘Hold tight until tonight.’ She shimmied off the bed, switched on the light, donned her cotton robe and opened her wardrobe. Blake’s eyes tracked her every move.

  ‘How have I lived without you all these years?’ he asked, sitting up and putting his hands behind his head. The sheet slipped south of his hips. She allowed her gaze to travel slowly over that hot, hard body. Later. Later. Later!

  ‘Two letters. I left you two letters.’ Ten lost years raged quietly in his voice. His eyes, frustrated and questioning. ‘How did they both go astray?’

  Her ribs tugged tight. She turned her back on his question to give herself strength. Now was the time. The time to tell the truth. ‘I know what happened to one of them.’

  ‘What?’ He sat up straight.

  ‘I . . .’ She didn’t want to say the word. That ugly, damning word. ‘I lied.’

  ‘What about? Sarah, come here.’ He beckoned her back to the bed.

  She walked over to him.

  ‘Sit.’ She did as instructed.

  She hesitated. He waited.

  It didn’t matter now. She wasn’t ashamed any more. He’d come to her home, he’d seen how she lived and still he wanted her.

  ‘When we met, I was happy for the first time in my life. I didn’t want anything to come between us. I didn’t want you to look down on me. I thought if you knew about my background, about this . . .’ She gestured to the simple space surrounding them. ‘You’d . . . well . . . you’d . . .’

  ‘You thought I wouldn’t want you because you lived here?’

  ‘Because I was unsophisticated. Dirt-poor. For God’s sake, you oozed money and class. I had mud under my nails and was wearing a ten-dollar pair of swimmers when we met.’

  That moment lay imprinted like an indelible mark on her heart. She’d wanted a fantasy life for a few hours, so she’d slipped onto the pool deck of Blake’s hotel while her mother attended a meeting upstairs. The pool guard had recognised instantly she didn’t belong and had asked her to leave. Shooed her like a dog. Blake had intervened.

  ‘She’s with me,’ he’d announced, with such authority the guard had retreated with humble apologies. Blake had claimed the seat next to her and dispatched a cheeky wink. She’d loved him from that moment. He’d saved her from humiliation. Over the next week, he’d transformed her world from a small place into a galaxy of possibilities. Then he’d left.

  His cute crinkles creased his brow. ‘But you were staying at the Empire Hotel.’

  She smiled a sad, wistful smile. ‘No.’

  ‘I walked you home there every night.’

  ‘I waited until you’d gone and walked back to the little guest house where we were actually staying,’ she said, not meeting his eyes.

  ‘You thought I’d judge you because of where you were staying?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘Sarah, I wanted you the moment you walked onto that pool deck. I wouldn’t have cared what you did, where you lived.’

  ‘Well, experience has taught me otherwise.’

  He laid his hand over hers, the question clear in his eyes.

  ‘My father left when I was six. Just walked away and never came back. No communication. No money. No support. He died when I was twelve. He must’ve suffered from a guilty conscience on his deathbed as he left an endowment in his will so I could attend a private school in Australia. As it was the only thing I’d ever get from my dad, my mother insisted I go. Let’s just say those years were beyond miserable.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Rich girls, mansion homes and designer clothes. They weren’t going to associate with some girl from a foreign jungle monkey farm.’ The monkey-girl taunts had never stopped hurting. ‘I couldn’t bear for you to think of me like that, so . . . so . . .’ She took a deep breath. ‘I fabricated a few things.’

  His hand slipped from hers and he sat with his back against the rough wooden wall.

  ‘That explains why you didn’t get the letter I left at the Empire. But what happened to the letter at my hotel? You said you checked.’

  ‘Yes. I remember vividly. Mum had to pick up some documents from the reception of your hotel. Some information your father must’ve left for her. I asked her to check for me as I was in a bit of a state from your vanishing act. Nothing.’

  ‘I wonder what happened to it? Crazy. We didn’t know the most basic things about each other. Like telephone numbers. And in your case, my last name.’

  ‘So, perhaps it’s best you don’t vanish again,’ she said, running a finger seductively down his chest.

  He clutched her hand. ‘But what about your job at the newspaper?’

  ‘Ah, that.’ She looked at the stark, blank wall of her room. She hated thinking about that time. A Houdini lover. Her mother’s illness. Her dreams disintegrating. An unplanned pregnancy. She had traversed many dark valleys in her life, but those few months she’d walked through absolute desolation. All her big plans sucked away by circumstance.

  ‘I’d scored a cadetship with the Gazette.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘But Mum contracted malaria just after you left. She hadn’t been taking her tablets. A money-saving exercise. I had to stay home and run the place and look after Mum. She died a few months later. You know the rest.’

  Blake pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It was a long time ago.’ Her voice lacked any feeling. It was the only way she knew how to deal with it. Lock away the hurt. Indulge in it and she’d go mad. ‘Anyway, that’s my sad little story,’ she said, pulling from his embrace. Sympathy made it harder to keep the hurt box locked.

  He grabbed her hand. ‘How about we make a pact. No more secrets.’

  ‘That’s a promise.’

  A dull thud sounded above them.

  ‘What was that?’ Blake peered at the ceiling.

  ‘Probably our resident python.’

  His eyes widened a fraction. ‘You’re afraid of a harmless computer game and you have a ruddy big snake living in your roof?’

  Sarah glanced up and laughed. ‘He’s totally harmless. He gets rid of the rats. Mum’s old papers and the Sanctuary archives are up there.’ She needed to go through all that stuff. She’d investigated once, but after reading one or two documents, tears had prevented her from finishing the job. Since then, she’d never quite worked up the energy to try again. ‘Don’t want them nibbled on.’

  ‘Speaking of nibbling . . .’ He pulled her onto the bed.

  She wiggled free. ‘Come on. It’s a big day today.’ She stood and grabbed her toiletries bag. ‘I’ll just have a shower.’

  She pulled open the bedroom door.

  ‘And there’s always tonight.’ She threw open her robe and flashed her naked body.

  Blake leapt from the bed. She screamed and ran out the door.

  ‘You’ll keep,’ he called after her.

  She practically skipped to the amenities block, her heavy, muddy work boots feeling like Cinderella’s glass slippers.

  Sarah threw a couple of roti in the frying pan. Blake sat at her small dining table looking freshly showered, gorgeous and restless. His foot tapped, his fingers drummed and his gaze flicked about the room like a meerkat on guard duty.

  ‘You can’t function without a device in your hand, can you?’

  ‘I can.’

  ‘But it’s killing you,’ she said, slicing up two bananas.

  ‘I don’t like being out of touch.’

  ‘One more day and you’ll be back in the modern world.’ She flipped the roti over t
o crisp up the other side.

  ‘Don’t suppose there’s any reception at the release site?’

  She shot him a patient smile. ‘No.’

  She served the roti onto two plates, topped with banana and drizzled bush honey. She placed a plate of her favourite breakfast in front of Blake.

  ‘Hmm, this looks good.’

  ‘Thanks for coming today.’ She knew his staying here at the Sanctuary was a big deal. He didn’t need to stay. He could have left after the launch the day before. But here he was, sitting at her rickety table eating roti. What if? What if she’d trusted him all those years ago and told him then about her life, where she lived? What would her life look like now?

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it,’ he said, scooping up his fork. ‘I’ll make a few calls and then I’m all yours.’

  She took her seat with her own breakfast. Today would mark a monumental moment in Brunei’s ecological history. Evidence showed that orangutans had once roamed the mountainous area of the country, but had become extinct within the Bruneian borders. Poaching, deforestation and natural disaster had all contributed to the species’ destruction across the island of Borneo. But today would, in time, change the fate of this threatened animal. With Blake’s massive injection of cash, the Sanctuary could now build a viable congress of animals that in time would become self-sustaining. Her mother’s dream would become a reality. Sarah would have fulfilled her promise and be . . . be . . .

  Her hand stilled halfway from her plate to her mouth. A slice of banana dropped back on the plate.

  Free?

  The day she’d promised her mother to save the Sanctuary was the day she’d stopped entertaining the idea of a life beyond the trees. This was her dream, too, to save the orangutans. This work was more important than any dreams she’d had for herself. As her mother had always maintained, to achieve great success required great sacrifice.

  The loud hum of the fridge ceased and the overhead fan slowed.

  ‘The generator,’ Sarah said, pushing back her chair. ‘It’s always conking out. Back in a minute.’ She looked over her shoulder on the way out the door. ‘We’ll be leaving in half an hour.’