Billionaire’s Quarry: A Billionaire, Bad Boy, Romance (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Boxed Set)

by Michelle Love

  Jakob smiled humorlessly. ‘Not as rough as being stabbed. She’s a fighter; a little press intrusion is something we can protect her from. Can Skandar run some interference?’

  Joel nodded. ‘I’ll talk to him. He’ll get questions no doubt, and someone from here’s bound to leak it.’

  ‘Maybe we can ask them to sign some NDA’s?’

  ‘No,’ Ran Mallory walked through the door at that moment and heard them, ‘we’ve never been the sort of family who runs and hides. We ride…’

  ‘…out the storm,’ said his sons in unison and Ran smiled.

  ‘That’s right. How’s Quilla?’

  Jakob told him the news and Ran nodded. ‘Good. That’s good to hear. Damn that Fisk…I have everyone out looking for him. Hello…’

  He suddenly noticed Nan sitting behind Joel, trying to make herself invisible. Ran smiled and shook her hand. ‘I’m sorry; we seem to have taken over the waiting room.’

  ‘It’s no problem…oh hey,’ Nan looked over at the door where a young blonde teenager hovered, her face crisscrossed with butterfly stitches. She glanced shyly at the three men then at her sister.

  ‘Doctor says I’m good to go.’

  Nan got up, smiled at Joel. ‘It was nice to talk to you.’

  Joel nodded. ‘You too, glad the kid’s okay.’

  ‘You wait til I get her home,’ Nan muttered with a wry grin. Joel laughed but didn’t envy the younger woman.

  ‘Look, can you get home okay?’

  Nan, at the doorway with her sister now, turned. ‘Yeah, I have my car but thanks. I hope your friend is okay.’

  Hayley Applebee glanced over at her elder sister as they drove home. So far, Nan had said precisely nothing but Hayley knew that just meant the build-up of magma under the volcano was just getting bigger and soon Vesuvius would explode.

  To head at least some of the eruption off, she sighed. ‘Look, Nan, I’m sorry. It was a dumb thing to do.’

  ‘So dumb.’

  ‘I know.’ Hayley waited. Nothing.

  ‘Aren’t you going to yell at me?’ She frowned at her sister, weirdly disappointed. Nan, who looked drawn and tired out, shook her head.

  ‘Hays…I was all ready to rip you a new one but then…that dude I was talking to, his friend got stabbed by a guy because her boyfriend fired him. He stabbed her. Not the boyfriend. When we live in a world like that, you doing something most teenagers have done at one point or another and getting off relatively unscathed – well now, I can live with that.’

  She shot a side look at her sister. ‘Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook entirely, though.’

  Hayley smiled. ‘Didn’t think so. Nan, you know who those people were, don’t you?’

  Nan looked blank. ‘I know the first guy’s name was Joel but…’

  Hayley sighed. ‘Nan, please, occasionally read a gossip site, okay?. The Mallorys? The richest family on the west coast? Kit Mallory, the actor? Skandar Mallory, the tennis player?’

  Nan looked confused. ‘He wasn’t there.’

  Hayley muttered something under her breath then said ‘I know. The dude with the long blonde hair? That’s Skandar’s dad.’

  Nan shook her head. ‘No way, that guy is way too young.’

  After trying to explain who The Mallorys were to no avail, Hayley gave up. At home, she apologized to her sister again, hugged her and went to bed.

  Nan flopped down on her bed and checked the time. Just after five a.m. She groaned. In a couple of hours, she’d have to be up and ready to teach a class full of eighth graders about Hemingway. Why couldn’t Hayley have decided to do this on a weekend? Nan realized the absurdity of what she was thinking and sent an apology into the cosmos.

  She plumped up her pillow and closed her eyes, but sleep would not come. For some reason, she was thinking about the tall, blonde, impossibly handsome Joel Mallory. And you’ve just answered your own question, she grinned to herself. She couldn’t believe he was the son of a billionaire, the father of another. He had such a plaid-wearing homeliness about him. She could imagine him chopping down trees or bringing in the cattle but not coaching a world-class tennis player. She wondered if the dark haired girl with him was his girlfriend – she hadn’t seemed like it but who knew?

  She fell asleep eventually and was only ten minutes late to her first class. She called that a good day.

  Two weeks later, Joel sat, watching Skandar’s practice session with his hitting partner, barely registering the skillful shots his son was hammering down the other end of the court. Soon, he wouldn’t need to do this, get up early to fly off all over the world. It had been his decision to bow out of Skandar’s training at the end of this season but as his responsibilities had lessened, and his time freed up, he’d been flailing around for things to do. Before Skandar had been born, he’d started at college, intending to take an architectural degree, to go into business with Jakob, building and designing exquisite homes at affordable prices. But when a one-night hook-up with a girl called Felicity had resulted in a pregnancy and subsequent maternal abandonment, all that changed. He’d given his son both his own grandfather’s and his son’s grandfathers’ names, and Skandar Randall Mallory was born. And he had honestly loved every moment. His bond with his son had been one of trust and love and laughter. Skandar, as soon as he could run, was a bundle of energy and when Ran had bought him a tennis racket for his sixth birthday, it was obvious to everyone that Skandar’s future career path was pretty much set.

  Now, Skandar was twenty-five and the number one tennis player in the world. His matinee idol looks meant he was never off the front page of the tabloids and his dad, not a slouch in the looks department either, garnered almost as much attention. Joel, unlike Skandar, didn’t relish the attention, and he was looking to go back to relative anonymity when he left the coaching team.

  ‘Yo.’ Skandar nudged him out of his reverie, holding out a cold bottle of water to him, then cracking one open for himself and draining it. The morning was warm for a Seattle Fall day and Skandar’s shirt was drenched with sweat. Peeling it off and dumping it on the ground, he yanked another from his bag.

  ‘You okay, Pa? You’ve been quiet all morning. I hit a pristine backhand down the line earlier, see it?’

  ‘Good job,’ Joel said automatically then blinked, coming back to the present. ‘Sorry, my head’s not in the game today.’

  Skandar sat down next to him. ‘Pa, I’ve meant to ask…what are you going to do now? It’s been a couple of months since you said you were going to hand over to Carlos.’

  Joe shrugged. ‘Honestly, I’m not sure. I was talking to Jakob about it…I thought maybe I could go back to college, finish my degree, partner with him on some project.’

  Skandar tipped half a bottle of ice water over his head. ‘Sounds good. What’s stopping you?’

  Joel smiled, sheepish. ‘This sounds crazy, but my confidence in my ability to do that now I’m older has taken a knock.’

  Skandar studied his father. ‘What about taking a couple of adult courses at night school? See if you like that before you commit to college.’

  Joel squinted at his son. ‘When did you get so smart?’

  Skandar grinned. ‘Just occasionally, I can bring my A game. Although really, I’m thinking, you’re a freaking billionaire, just enjoy life. You did all the heavy lifting bringing me up on your own.’

  ‘Never felt like heavy lifting, and it’s Dad who’s a billionaire, it’s you, not me. I need to make my own way,’ Joel said, and Skandar clapped him on the shoulder.

  ‘Dad, I know. Regardless, it’s not easy…I’m not sure I could have done it. Anyway, I’d better get back to it. Think about the night classes, yeah?’

  The kid was right, Joel thought. A taster class might be the way to go. He grabbed his iPad and started to research as Skandar destroyed his hitting partner with a vicious serve.

  Jakob started to laugh as soon as he got home. Quilla, obviously bored after being house-bound while she reco
vered, had built a fort out of the boxes of her stuff he arranged to have picked up. She lay in the middle of it, propped up on pillows, reading, and a half-drunk cup of tea beside her. He peered over the ramparts of the fort and grinned at her.

  ‘Didn’t the doctor tell you not to lift anything heavy?’ he said in mock-disapproval.

  Quilla stuck her tongue out at him. After the horrific night, the terror of not knowing if she was going to be okay, Jakob had been afraid her natural merriment would be subdued, but no, she was astonishingly resilient.

  Quilla had talked about the attack – she’d had to go over and over it a hundred times with the police, after all – and she seemed remarkably practical about it. ‘Weirdly, I didn’t even realize he’d stabbed me until I saw your face, and the blood,’ she told Jakob, ‘I thought he’d just punched me. My body knew something was very wrong before my brain did…then that’s when the pain hit. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up in the hospital. Did the police find Gregor?’

  Jakob had shaken his head, his face grim. ‘No. He’s still out there, somewhere. But I promise you, Quilla, he won’t hurt you again.’

  She smiled, touched his face. ‘I know that.’

  She’d been released from the hospital a couple of days after the stabbing but on the understanding that she was to take it easy. ‘Taking it easy’ had meant being spoilt by Jakob, he’d told her and he had. He’d arranged for all of her possessions to be moved to his penthouse, had made sure his home was turned into their home now, making room in his closet for her clothes, room on his bookshelves for her beloved books. He’d even cleared out a guest room and made it into an artists’ studio for her. There were tears of gratitude and love when she saw it.

  Now, though, restricted by her injury to sitting for most of the day until it healed properly, Quilla was being to get stir crazy.

  Jakob helped her to her feet and led to the couch, pulling onto his lap and kissing her. ‘How was work?’ Quilla asked between kisses.

  ‘Same old, same old.’

  ‘So you’re not extra-busy because Stabby McDouchebag isn’t there?’

  Jakob winced and laughed at the same time. Only Quilla could make light of something so serious. His arms tightened around her, but he kept his tone light. ‘Nope. To be honest, the place runs itself now. If I'm honest…you’re not the only one who is bored. I’m thinking about stepping back, letting the executives run it and concentrating on smaller projects…affordable housing, places for the homeless. Stuff I – and Dad – always wanted to do.’

  Quilla stroked the hair back behind his ears. ‘If I didn’t already love you more than it was possible to love someone, Jakob Mallory…’

  She kissed him, her lips moving firmly against his, her fingers knotting in his hair. Jakob closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her skin against his, tasting her, his tongue moving against hers gently. Then as the heat began to build, he pushed her away, gently. ‘Quilla…you have to take it easy. Seriously, we have to wait at least six weeks, the doctor said.’

  ‘God.’ She was annoyed now. ‘I feel fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore; my stitches are coming out in a few days.’

  Jakob is grinning at her sulky face. ‘Nympho. I’d rather wait a few weeks then have you healthy for the rest of your life than risk anything…tearing.’

  They both winced and Quilla shrugged. ‘Fine…but after six weeks, you’d better be ready for some seriously dirty sex.’

  He grinned, leaning over to kiss her. ‘Damn right I will be.

  Joel pushed his way into the community center slowly. The place was quiet this afternoon – there was a school across the street, and he could hear the kids playing in the sun. Joel went to the reception and pressed the bell. A kind-faced woman in her sixties smiled at him as she came around the corner.

  ‘Hi there…you need something?’

  Joel half-smiled, cleared his throat, nervous. ‘Yeah, um, I was wondering if you had any Fall evening classes with any places left?’

  ‘Okeydokey,’ she sat down at her desk and wiggled the mouse to wake the computer screen. ‘Well, let’s see…what kind of thing were you looking for?’ At Joel’s blank face, she smiled. ‘Okay, let’s just see what we’ve got available first then go from there. Just a minute, dear.’

  The phone rang on her desk, and she picked it up, balancing it on her shoulder and chin. She spoke quietly into it at first then glanced up at Joel. ‘Actually,’ she said to the other person on the phone, ‘I could use some help. I have a very pleasant young man at reception who wants to know if we have any places left in the evening classes. No, that’s just it, I don’t think he knows so maybe you could talk…that’s wonderful, see you in a minute.’

  She put the phone down and smiled. ‘We have our careers advisor coming to see you; she may be able to help you chose the right course for you. Take a seat, hon.’

  Joel thanked her and went to sit down. He grabbed a magazine from the pile on the table; saw Skandar’s face on the cover. He never stopped feeling proud of what his son had achieved. Ever.

  ‘Joel?’ He looked up to see a very attractive, very familiar blonde woman grinning at him.

  ‘Nan?’ His voice broke in amazement. Dude, you sound like Scooby Doo.

  Nan obviously had a asimilar thought and smothered a grin. ‘Come with me.’ She nodded towards the inner sanctum. ‘I have an office with air con we can talk in.’

  He hadn’t noticed the reception was stifling until she said it. He followed down a long hallway and into a small office at the far corner. As they sat, he smiled at her.

  ‘It’s good to see you again…how’s your sister?’

  Nan rolled her eyes. ‘All teenager. Shouldn’t say that, apart from the odd aberration like that night, she’s a good kid. Cares about people, about the world. How about your friend?’

  Joel smiled. ‘Well on the way to recovery. My brother tells me she’s bored out of her mind on bed rest.’

  Nan laughed. ‘Maybe you should have brought her too. Which brings me to my next question – Joel, Hayley told who your family was, what they’ve done so I guess my question is: What the hell is a billionaire doing asking after night classes?’ She had such a sweet grin that Joel couldn’t help but join in with her laughter.

  ‘My son needs more intensive coaching than I can give him and, to be honest, I’m sick of traveling around the world.’

  She looked at him askance, and he held his hands up. ‘Sorry, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is…I need to do something for myself now, and I’d like to be closer to my family.’

  ‘And you didn’t want to go into the family business?’

  ‘That’s just it – the family business isn’t just one thing – it’s art, it’s property, it’s acting, it’s sport. I’m trying to find where I fit in.’

  Nan nodded. ‘I understand…well, what is it you’re passionate about?’

  Joel was silent for a moment. ‘I can’t remember anything past caring for my son. Is that sad?’

  ‘Definitely not,’ Nan said with feeling, her cheeks reddening. ‘That’s wonderful. I kind of get where you’re coming from – Hayley and I are a self-contained unit. Of course, that doesn’t help you now,’ she admitted with a grin.

  Joel smiled. He liked this woman very much, her humor, her intellect, her easy smile, her caramel blonde hair falling onto her shoulders…concentrate, Mallory.

  ‘Is this what you do then, give careers advice?’ He looked around the room at the information posters; the books stacked high, battered old file cabinets with drawers that didn’t quite close. There was something comforting about the room – about Nan too, he realized.

  ‘No,’ she said, ‘I just do this once a week when I have free time. I teach eighth grade at the school across the street.’

  He blinked. ‘And on your free period, you volunteer here? Wow.’

  Nan smiled shyly. ‘I like to give back. Hey look, why don’t we start by talking about what qualifications
you do have and see what comes up in the mix?’

  Joel smiled gratefully. ‘Thank you, I really appreciate it and…’ he hesitated, not used to this anymore, ‘if it’s not wildly inappropriate, can I take you out for a drink to say thanks? You can say no if…’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that,’ she said blushing furiously and Joel grinned.

  ‘Good. Now…my qualifications.’

  He had no idea what prompted him to ask Nan Applebee out, it was just that second, a lock of hair had fallen over her face, the ends brushing her rosy cheeks and she had looked so entirely adorable that he couldn’t help himself.

  They’d arranged to go out the following Friday. She refused his offer to pick her up – sensible girl – and arranged to meet at one of her favorite bars in the city.

  Joel smiled to himself now as he dressed to meet her. Of all his family, he had always been the one to enjoy simple things – not simple; he amended, just more natural – plain, hardy clothes rather than tailored and expensive suits, a good burger, beer straight from the fridge. He’d always felt the disenfranchised brother, the one who didn’t bring home the supermodels – he immediately felt bad at that thought. He loved Asia and Quilla, and neither of them behaved like some of the women his twin brother Kit dated. He still thought Kit was a fool for letting Asia go.

  Nan Applebee was just the kind of woman he liked; smart, funny, kind. The fact he couldn’t stop thinking about her soft skin, the clean, fresh laundry scent of her.

  Ease on down, tiger; you don’t want to scare her. But Joel grinned to himself. He was looking forward to tonight.

  ‘Once again, your driver is waiting,’ Hayley Applebee flopped down into the chair in her sister’s bedroom, watching her dress.

  Nan flashed a panicked look at her as she stood in her underwear, chewing her lips. Hayley was wearing skinny jeans, a t-shirt and a wooly hat pulled over her long blonde hair and looked like a page straight out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. She grimaced at her.