Billionaire's Pursuit of Love: Destiny Romance

by Jennifer St George

  ‘Ready?’ Diane asked. The head of PR looked excited, but in her usual calm way had organised every aspect of the launch. Although the competition had got wind of the project, it had been too late for them to do any real damage. Henry had proven Katie was the source of the leak. She had been sacked and she wouldn’t work in PR in London again. This town didn’t give second chances.

  ‘Yes.’ Blake touched Darwin’s hand. The cold stone offered no encouragement, no reassurance, no comfort. He walked to the podium, as if controlled by a game console. Applause thundered through the museum’s Central Hall. Blake waited for quiet. Then he waited some more.

  Scanning. Hoping.

  But the two faces he longed to see didn’t appear. Sarah and Daniel had left two days ago. He’d tried everything he could think of to contact them but to no avail. He’d hoped Sarah would calm down and come back, but she hadn’t. If she didn’t turn up today, well . . . He pulled off his jacket, the room suddenly airless and claustrophobic.

  ‘Welcome, ladies and gentlemen. I’m Blake Huntington-Fiennes and today we are here to launch our new game, Conquering Everest.’ The slick presentation rolled behind him on the vast screen. Music resonated through the magnificent hall. A new age in gaming came to life. People sat forward in their chairs.

  ‘Conquering Everest catapults gaming technology into a new realm. Hunt-F Tech’s new 4-D technology is the most important development . . .’ Important? A blot of shock rocketed through his body. He gripped the podium with both hands.

  The video continued to play. The autocue halted. His family, seated in the front row, looked up at him with anxious faces. Jemma mouthed, ‘Are you all right?’

  The most important? This? He surveyed the room. The media. City analysts. Distributors. He glanced at the screen, at his product. None of this came close to being the most important thing in his life. The past few days without Sarah and Daniel had been unbearably painful. Living without them . . .

  ‘Blake,’ Diane whispered from his left. She’d written the presentation, rehearsed with him, she knew it down to the last second. ‘Everything okay?’

  He smiled at his loyal employee and covered the microphone. ‘For the first time in my life, I can give an unequivocal yes.’ He removed his hand. ‘Sorry, everyone, I have to go. Diane, will you take over please?’

  He ran down the stairs, his heart wild in his chest. Ignoring the gasps and chatter around him, he strode across the cavernous room, every step taking him closer to the woman he loved. The only woman he’d loved. The woman . . . the family he’d nearly lost because of a misguided commitment to his dead father to never take his eye off the ball.

  But he’d been watching the wrong ball.

  Chapter Ten

  ‘I know you miss them, darling.’ Sarah sat next to Daniel on his bed in their tiny forest cabin. They’d only arrived back at the Sanctuary a few hours earlier. The crickets screamed their scratchy refrain. The jungle was restless this morning, mirroring her own agitation.

  ‘Why did we have to leave? We’re going to miss the launch of Blake’s new game,’ Daniel said, toying with one of his books. ‘I was really looking forward to it. It was being held at the Natural History Museum.’

  ‘I was, too, but we have urgent things to do here.’ She took a big slug of her coffee. She hadn’t slept properly since their flight from Blake’s apartment. He’d phoned incessantly. She’d let it ring out.

  ‘I’ll go feed Sultan,’ Daniel said, but his voice held no joy.

  ‘You missed Sultan, didn’t you?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, but . . .’ Daniel shook his head and headed for the door.

  Sarah followed him. ‘But?’

  Daniel wouldn’t meet her eye. ‘I know how important the Sanctuary is, Mum. I know computers aren’t the best thing in the world. I know being outdoors is good for you and all that. That being homeschooled is just how things have to be, but . . . It’s just . . .’

  Sarah held her breath.

  ‘It’s just . . . Well . . .’

  ‘You liked being in London.’

  ‘Yes. I really liked it.’

  ‘Oh, darling.’ She hugged him. She’d always believed she’d been doing the absolute best for her son under the circumstances. But she wasn’t. She’d delivered on a promise made to her dying mother and her son was a sacrificial lamb. She’d isolated him. She’d isolated him from things that could be his life’s passion. Sarah took her son’s hand and led him to the couch.

  ‘You know something,’ she said, putting her arm about him and trying to keep the wretchedness from shuddering into her voice. ‘I liked London, too.’ Her son’s gaze flicked to her face. ‘Just a little bit,’ she added. ‘I know it’s a long way away, but how about we see if there’s a cricket club in the city you can join so you can play on weekends. And we plan a trip back to London very soon. Okay?’

  ‘Really?’ Daniel’s eyes shone like the Milky Way on a dark winter’s night. ‘Even though it’s so far?’

  ‘Really.’

  Daniel looked down at his lap. ‘And Mum . . .’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘I really liked Blake, too. I know he was into computers and all, but . . . He was really fun. I sort of . . . well . . . I kind of miss him.’

  Her heart screwed itself up into a tiny ball and threatened to never beat again.

  ‘When we go back to London, we’d stay with him. Wouldn’t we?’ he asked.

  She hugged her son to her chest so he couldn’t see the pain on her face. ‘We’ll see.’ She swallowed hard. ‘How about we feed Sultan and check in on everyone?’

  ‘Okay.’ Daniel jumped to his feet and ran out the door.

  Sarah followed him out into the compound. The suffocating hot and humid air sat heavily on her skin. She inhaled the smell of impending rain. A low rumble sounded off to the east. They were in for some soggy weather in a few hours. She trudged through the forest, following the happy sounds coming from just within the greenery.

  The carers and the orangutans played in a clearing north of the compound. The twenty orphaned apes rolled and climbed and scampered. She stood for a moment out of sight.

  ‘Daniel!’ Tino cried when he glimpsed the boy. Tino pulled her son into a big bear hug and lifted him off the ground. Each carer hugged Daniel, warmly welcoming him home. Everyone crowded around wanting to know his news. Daniel’s earlier sombre expression vanished into smiles and excited chatter.

  When Daniel found Sultan, both ape and child raced to each other and embraced. Daniel rolled Sultan onto his back and tickled his tummy. Sultan’s big toothy grin had Daniel laughing and laughing. They chased each other like two kids in an overgrown playground.

  Sarah laid her head back against a tree and stared at the canopy. Still, after all this time, she marvelled at the incredible bond that formed between human and ape. She looked over at the group playing, laughing and mucking around. This was her family. This was Daniel’s family. What they were doing out here in this small, isolated corner of the world was important. Special.

  She pushed off the tree and walked back to their cabin. Her emotions ran too close to the surface to face her jungle family. The wild and familiar noises of the forest soon enveloped her. The drip, drip of moisture. The gentle movement of the trees. The distant shrieks and calls of the animals deep in the forest.

  She paused and tuned in to her environment. The forest presented juxtaposition: the wild and peaceful. Their mostly tranquil life could be fractured at any time by weather, animals or just their desperate lack of funds.

  This life that had been thrust upon her had certainly been tough, but the magic of this place, the animals, the forest were truly extraordinary. But she had to face the fact that things had changed. She couldn’t just hide out here with Daniel. The world had crashed in and she’d have to face the consequences. But not today.

  She walked past the new enclosures being built with the funds from her stay in England. Blake’s image slammed into her mind and her ches
t tightened. His betrayal cut so deeply. Sure, he’d claimed not to be chasing sole custody of Daniel, but he’d also claimed to have tried to find her and she’d never had any proof that that was true. He’d also used her to create a game as a decoy for his real aims.

  She kicked a stone off the path. She couldn’t deny that Blake had brought so much good into her world. Before he came back into her life, she couldn’t really say she’d been content, but she knew her destiny was keeping her mother’s vital work alive. But now she’d tasted another life. She’d experienced again the all-consuming joy of passion. Of . . . of love? Her heart beat a little faster. She looked around at the forest. The boundaries of the Sanctuary were too small, too confined, too limiting.

  She strode down the path, mud squelching under her boots. She’d just have to box all that away and get on with it. She’d done it when Blake had left the first time, she could do it again. She ignored the heavy, agonising ache in her heart.

  Back at the cabin she made herself a cup of tea and forced herself to think about the Sanctuary and all the work to be done. Sitting at the table, she watched as a lone spider worked slowly, carefully building a web in the corner of the room. She looked about her small, shabby cabin. She’d never minded their cramped conditions, but she had to face the fact that Daniel was growing up. He needed his own space.

  She stood and paced slowly around the room. They couldn’t live in luxury, but some of the new funds could be used to improve their dilapidated home. She looked at the ceiling. The cavity in the roof would easily convert into a bedroom.

  A few minutes later she had Tino holding a ladder under the ceiling access and she pushed back the cover. She flicked on the naked light bulb and carefully scanned the pitched space. As much as she liked the resident python doing rat duty, she wasn’t too keen to meet the reptile face-to-fang. A quick inspection revealed she wouldn’t have her own Bear Grylls moment. She crawled up into the cavity. Towers of boxes lined each wall. Most of the stuff was over ten years old. Time to go.

  ‘Ready?’ Sarah called down to Tino.

  ‘Ready,’ he said.

  Sarah hauled a box to the opening and passed it down to Tino’s waiting hands.

  Half an hour later, Sarah sat in her small living room surrounded by boxes and piles of paper. She lifted the lid on the closest box. A cockroach scuttled out and raced under the couch. She grabbed a sheaf of papers covered in mildew.

  ‘Most of that stuff’s been up there for years,’ Tino said. ‘Why don’t we just incinerate it?’

  ‘There might be something important.’

  ‘Well, have fun with it.’ He left her to it.

  She checked the notation on the top of the nearest box. Accounts 2001. ‘Great.’ She worked methodically and within an hour she’d cleared about half the boxes. Most of the material could be thrown straight on the fire Daniel had lit in the yard.

  She hauled another box over. The word ‘personal’ was written in her mother’s handwriting. She tossed off the lid and lifted out a couple of old photos. Her mother holding a baby orangutan’s hand. She wasn’t smiling. Her face held that fierce, determined look, her mother’s most common expression. She flicked through a couple of other photos. Jill Walker had been the most single-minded person that had ever walked the earth. She was going to save a species and nothing was going to stand in her way. Nothing. And nobody.

  Sarah placed the photos in a neat pile. It had been agony watching her mother waste away so fast. Every day of those long last few months, Jill had talked about the importance of Sarah carrying on her work. In the end she’d begged. Under the influence of the pain-killing morphine injections, she’d said many strange things.

  ‘I was protecting you. Protecting your child,’ Jill would mumble urgently over and over, her eyes unseeing and crazy. ‘I did the right thing. I did the right thing.’

  It’d been the morphine talking. Sarah would pat her hand and reassure her. ‘Of course you did, Mum.’

  She roughly rubbed the moisture from the corners of her eyes. It was all so long ago, but occasionally the grief threatened to burst through and take hold. She’d always come second to her mother’s work, but she’d understood. Her mother’s mission was noble, important.

  She blinked and pulled out a few slim files. Underneath, instead of the usual disarray of paper, the box contained a series of notebooks neatly filed. She lifted a book from the box. A diary. She ran her finger along the spine of the books. All diaries. She glanced at the date on the volume in her hand: 2004, the year she’d met Blake. The book fell open and a letter slipped out. She put the letter to one side and read the entry.

  Better to protect her and her child against future pain. The three of us against the world.

  She looked at the date. It was a few weeks before her mother had begun to slip in and out of consciousness.

  Future pain?

  She picked up the letter and turned it over. The handwriting. The hairs on her arms stood on end. Her pulse jumped. Her chest constricted. A letter. From Blake. A disturbing tingling sensation spread over her body.

  Her hands trembled. She slid the page from the already opened envelope.

  My darling Sarah,

  Something terrible has happened with Dad’s business and we have to fly home tonight. I’ll come back as soon as I can because I think I’m in love with you. I know we live in different countries, but we can make this work. I could come to live in Brunei or you could come to live in London (lots of photojournalism jobs there!) because I can’t imagine my life without you. See you soon. Every second away from you is torture.

  The letter concluded with all Blake’s contact details – his home number and address, office details and mobile number – and a postscript begging her to get in touch as soon as possible.

  Her heart strained in her chest. Her mind screamed and screamed and screamed. Blake had been telling the truth. The letter slid from her hand. The room blurred. Her mother had known Blake was Daniel’s father. She had known how to contact Blake. She’d stolen the only link between them. Why? Betrayal burned and blistered across her skin.

  Jill had deliberately kept them apart. Why? Why? Why? Why would she deny Daniel a chance to know his father? Jill had known Sarah loved Blake. After Sarah confessed to her pregnancy, she’d told her mother everything. Jill had watched her sob and sob and sob. She’d known how heartbroken she’d been when Blake had disappeared.

  Men use you, then they leave you. Your grandfather. Your father. And now the father of your child. Put your trust in this place. You can trust animals. They give back all the love they receive. They will never betray you.

  Her mother’s mantra crashed into her mind. But . . . Sarah leapt to her feet. That was her mother’s life, not hers. Her mother’s philosophy, not hers. Her mother’s mistakes, not hers. Blake hadn’t left her. Blake had loved her. Would have moved across the world for her.

  She picked up the diary and stared at the entry. Future pain? Had this been her mother’s misguided attempt to protect her and Daniel from the possibility of Blake leaving them? As her father had left them. She read the words again, sure that was what her mother had done.

  How could a mother’s love be so misplaced? But even as she thought the words, guilt seared through her veins. She’d initially kept Daniel a secret from Blake. She’d forced Blake into keeping his paternity a secret. Now, she’d taken Daniel from his father. She was just as culpable.

  The ring of the ancient phone split the air. She jumped up and knocked over her chair. She snatched up the receiver. Her hands shook.

  ‘Yes?’ she barked out too sharply. She dragged in a shuddering breath. ‘Sorry. Hope Sanctuary.’

  ‘Sarah?’ The woman’s voice on the end of the phone sounded desperate.

  ‘Yes. Jemma? Is that you?’

  ‘Yes. Sarah, it’s Blake. He’s walked out of the launch right in the middle of his speech and we can’t find him. No one’s seen him all day. It’s not like him.’ Her words sounded rush
ed, frantic. ‘Has he contacted you?’

  It felt as though a thousand pointed shards stabbed Sarah’s stomach. Blake would never do that. This was the moment he’d worked so hard for. Sacrificed so much for.

  ‘No. No, he hasn’t.’

  ‘You know about Dad,’ Jemma’s panicked tone injected raw fear into Sarah’s veins. ‘You know what happened. I couldn’t . . . We need to . . .’

  Sarah couldn’t speak. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. Had she done this? Had she pushed Blake too far?

  ‘If he calls, please get him to ring me,’ Jemma begged.

  ‘I will,’ she said, her voice a whisper.

  Jemma disconnected the call. A minute passed before Sarah realised she hadn’t hung up the phone. She dropped the receiver and slumped into a chair.

  What have I done?

  Sarah stared unseeingly at the jumble of jigsaw-puzzle pieces lying on the table in the dim candlelight. The storm that had struck that afternoon had turned nasty. Wind and rain battered their small home. The air held a heavy scent of earth and the pungent tang of a rainforest being whipped by wild weather. They’d lost power and Sarah felt as though she was being slowly smothered. She’d phoned Jemma and there’d been no news.

  Daniel worked quietly on completing the edge of the puzzle. She knew he was still processing the paternity bombshell she’d landed on him a few hours earlier. Whatever happened, Daniel deserved to know who his father was and she could no longer keep it secret.

  Something big smashed into the side of the cabin and the building shuddered. Sarah’s muscles coiled tighter. The headache that had built since Jemma’s call throbbed more painfully through her skull.

  The door banged open, bringing wind, rain and debris swirling into the room. The candles sputtered out. Sarah jumped from her seat and rushed into the darkness to secure the door. Someone stepped into the room, torchlight silhouetting his shape.

  ‘Tino?’ But the person was too tall for Tino. ‘Blake!’ Her heart leapt in her chest. She stopped suddenly, as if she’d smacked into a solid wall. ‘What . . .?’