The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) (9 page)

He hugged her tightly, pressing his firm cock against her. “That’s an offer I can’t refuse!”

Dylan awoke early the next morning with Sarah’s warm body snuggled up in his arms. He grinned. This was something he’d fantasised about for years – waking up in a big comfy bed and holding his beloved against his naked body. The sun was shining outside, casting a rainbow over the walls, which made Dylan feel as if he and Sarah were in their own private cocoon – a world that existed only for them. He craned his neck to gaze at her – she looked so peaceful, sleeping gently. So different to the wild, untamed woman he’d enjoyed being with last night, during their passionate love-making. His cock twitched, suddenly desperate to thrust deep inside her tight pussy again...

But it was so much more than lust with Sarah… he wanted her to know how much he still cared. Dylan had never been one for expressing his feelings – actions spoke louder than empty promises as far as he was concerned. He tightened his embrace, enjoying the sensation of them lying here breathing in unison. He refused to let her go again. He sensed she still cared for him, but he knew she was resisting. He needed to convince her that he was genuine. That he could be trusted. That he had no intention of hurting her.

She snuffled in his arms, and he realised he’d squeezed her a little too tight.

“Sorry, babe,” he whispered, kissing her on the head. “Go back to sleep.”

She smiled snoozily. “You’re comfortable.”

Affection seeped through his chest. “It’s perfect waking up with you in my arms.”

Her smile slowly faded, then she drifted off to sleep again. Dylan watched her affectionately, resolving to prove how much he cared – then hopefully he wouldn’t need to spell it out. Saying ‘I love you’ – just those three little words – sent terrors through his body. He didn’t know
exactly
what it was that made him so reluctant to express his feelings – probably a combination of having a military father and being the middle brother between Ivan and Adam, meaning that he was squashed between ‘adored first born’ and ‘worshipped youngest’ (at least until Clara and Joseph had been born several years later).

Whatever. Dylan wasn’t about to start psychoanalysing himself – god knows what he might uncover in the suppressed recesses of his psyche – it didn’t bear thinking about. All he needed to do was to let Sarah
see
that he loved her. Then hopefully she’d stick around.

Optimism rushed through him. Breakfast in bed, followed by a morning ravishing would be a great start. He eased himself out from under her, pulled on his trousers, then padded down to the kitchen.

It was another scorcher in London. The sun was shining through the huge windows at the front of the house, but the kitchen flagstones were nice and cool on his bare feet. It was clean and modern in here, bright and airy. Amy had chosen this rental property quickly, but she had a great eye for style.

He stepped over to the kettle and flicked it on, trying to remember how Sarah liked her tea. The British were so goddamn particular about it. Dylan chuckled to himself as he tried to remember whether it was milk before water or the other way around.

He made a pot of coffee and put some bread in the toaster. Then, as he glanced out into the summer room, he realised that Joseph was sitting in there, staring out the window into the lush garden. Poor kid. The Quinlans tended to be pretty pragmatic about life, and they didn’t generally stop to wallow in the bad times – they just got on with things the best they could. But maybe Joseph needed a shoulder right now. Not only had he seen Natalia brutally murdered yesterday, but he still thought his beloved oldest brother was dead. They’d always been very close, and Joseph had been devastated when he’d learned of Ivan’s passing.

Dylan poured out two mugs of coffee and carried them into the summer room. This was a lovely place to think – precisely as Joseph was. The walls and ceiling were made of glass, and the view of the summer-swollen garden was mesmerising – the green trees and brightly coloured blooms looked spectacular against the bright blue sky this morning. The wicker furniture in here gave the space a peaceful and rustic ambience, but Dylan could see that his brother’s mind was disturbed.

“Hey, Joe.”

Joseph glanced up through bleary eyes. “Oh hey, Dylan.”

“You’re up early.”

“Yeah. I woke up at six. The sun was shining in my drapes.”

Dylan sat down with him on the creaky wicker couch and handed him a coffee. “You thinking about what happened yesterday?”

His face flashed with guilt. “Oh no. I was thinking about the charity gig I’m organising for my twentieth birthday. It’s only a few days now.”

“Oh yeah, that’s right! How’s it coming along?”

“Fine I think. Just gotta get through it.”

“Which charity is it?”

“Prostate Cancer Awareness.”

“That’s so awesome you’ve organised this yourself.”

“Well, my band helped. A bit.”

Joseph blew on his coffee. They shared a fraternal smile.

Dylan’s thoughts churned on spin-cycle as he wondered how best to broach the issue of Ivan. “So… what are your plans for today?”

“Not much. I’ve got an assignment due when I go back to college, but other than that… pretty free.”

“Will you come with me and Sarah to Essex?”

Joseph frowned. “Why?”

“There’s someone I want to introduce you to.”

“Oh yeah, who?”

Dylan leaned over and placed his coffee on the glass-topped table. “Joseph, listen, I need to tell you something important.”

Joseph smirked, unable to take his brother’s severe mood seriously. So much like Adam… “Do you?”

“Yeah. Look, brace yourself okay… this is really hard for me to say.”

Realisation dawned on Joseph’s face. “Oh, I think I know what this is about. And it’s okay. I already know.”

“You do?”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

“How?”

“I guessed.”

“You
guessed
?”

“Yeah.”

“And you don’t mind?”

“Why would I?”

“No… of course, you’d be happy… You’re taking it well.”

“I think it’s great, Dylan. And it’s about time really isn’t it?”

The cogs of Dylan’s brain ground to a screeching halt. “Wait… what are you talking about?”

“You and Sarah. Why, what are
you
talking about?”

“Er… Joe, why would I be talking about me and Sarah like it was some big secret?”

“Because you’re the most anti-love person I’ve ever met. You’ve even got some stupid bet going with Adam vowing that you’ll never fall in love. It’s a bit sad, if you ask me.”

Anger lurched in Dylan’s chest. “Who told you that?”

“Who do you think?”

“God, Adam’s such an asshole.”

Joseph laughed lightly. “I don’t understand your problem, Dylan. You’ve changed so much in, like, twenty-four hours – since you met Sarah. She’s good for you. I’m pleased.”

“I haven’t changed! How have I changed?”

“You’ve lightened up. Just… you seem to be
smiling
. I was watching you over dinner yesterday – you were sitting there
smiling
.”

Dylan suppressed his smile now. “I was not.”

“She’s special to you – go on, admit it.”

“Shut up.”

Joseph sipped his coffee. “Dylan, when’s the last time you told another human being you loved them?”

His mind raced back through the years and alighted on the precise time and date. “I’m not sure, I don’t remember.”

“
I
know when it was.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. It was when you said goodbye to Sarah at the airport.”

“Don’t be stupid. You weren’t even there…
Were
you?”

Joseph’s handsome face lit up with a grin. “No. But I haven’t heard you tell anyone you love them since you and Sarah broke up. Not
anyone
. Not even mom. But I heard you say it to Sarah once. When she was staying with us. You told her that you loved her more than anything in the world. Obviously you didn’t know
I
was loitering outside the door at the time. And the way you looked at her when you said it… I could see you meant it.”

“I was just a child.
Your
age.”

“I’m not a child, Dylan. And I know I’m capable of loving the right woman when she comes along.
You
closed down after Sarah left. It makes me happy to see you opening up again.”

“You’re very perceptive for a twenty-year-old.”

Joseph smirked. “I’m still nineteen ‘til Thursday.”

Dylan laughed. “You’re a cocky little shit. So much like Adam.”

“You always say that when you know I’m right. But I prefer to think I’m more like Ivan.”

They shared a smile. Dylan picked up his coffee and took a sip, trying to get ahold on all these strange emotions that were sloshing around his body. Had he really just received
relationship
advice from his kid brother? What the hell was going on?

Joseph pulled him out of his thoughts. “Hey, you can practise on me if you like.”

“Huh, what?”

“Tell me you love me.”

“Joe, come on… stop it.”

Joseph shook his head despairingly. “Why can’t you, Dylan? I’m your brother. And I know you
do
love me. And I love you too. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, if you know I do, then what’s
your
problem?” Dylan stood up. “I’d better get Sarah her cup of tea before it goes cold.”

Joseph inspected him with wise eyes. “Dylan, I’ve always looked up to you. But you’re scared of three little words. You might wanna consider why that is – it could change your life.”

“Sheesh, thanks for the advice, Dr Ruth. Come on, get ready. I’ll meet you back down here in an hour.”

Joseph frowned. “Why are we going to Essex?”

Dylan’s resolve sagged. He couldn’t handle the ‘Ivan conversation’ now. “You’ll see when we get there. Come on, drink your coffee and get dressed. I’ll take Sarah breakfast in bed, then…. Well, we’ll meet you in the hallway in an hour, ready to leave. Alright?”

Joseph smirked. “Sure. Enjoy your breakfast – nudge, nudge.”

Dylan laughed. “Don’t be cheeky. Nobody likes a smartass.”

The sun shone brightly as they set off in Dylan’s BMW for Essex. Sarah was so grateful to Amy for loaning her this pretty summer dress. It was freeing to be out of her suit and work shoes, and she felt as if they were going on an adventure. Dylan cranked up the music as they cruised out of London, but Sarah was finding it hard to concentrate. Less than an hour ago, Dylan had been treating her to an amazing orgasm, and her body was still tingling with arousal and love.

But not love. Because falling in love with him would probably end up with heartache. He was in trouble with Russians, and even if he did manage to shake them off, surely he knew he could do much better than her nowadays? She didn’t have low self-esteem, but she wasn’t stupid either. She was a hotel manager, not a socialite. The woman who Dylan would eventually settle down with would surely be the daughter of a business magnate. She’d be called Elektra or Mercedes. She certainly wouldn’t be called Sarah.

As they cruised down the freeway, Dylan fell silent and switched off the radio. An icy atmosphere swept away the jovial vibe in the car.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked.

“I think we’re being tailed.”

Sarah twisted in her seat to look out the rear window. “What? Who by?”

“That blue Toyota’s been behind us since we joined the freeway.”

“Coincidence?” Joseph asked.

“Not sure. Hang on to your hats.”

Dylan suddenly rammed his foot down on the gas and swerved across the lanes, to a cacophony of angry honking horns.

Sarah grabbed the dashboard as the car skidded. “Jesus, Dylan, you’ll kill us!”

He braked hard, then pulled off at the approaching intersection. Thankfully, no one had acquired whiplash during his manoeuvre, but it had been so swift that the Toyota zoomed straight past the exit and continued down the freeway. Sarah exhaled.

Dylan squeezed her knee. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“I think so.”

He winced apologetically. “We need to get a different car. Can you search for a local showroom nearby?”

Sarah’s instincts were yelling at her to get out of the car right now and banish Dylan from her life forever. But she loved him, goddamn him! There, she’d admitted it. She forced herself to relax. When you’re in the slipstream, it’s best to go with it – struggling against the tide is exhausting and will only result in drowning.

She suddenly realised what he’d just said. “You’re going to buy another car?”

“Yeah. We need to be quick, though. If they
were
following us, they could easily turn back and find us.”

Sarah grabbed her phone and located the nearest dealership. “There’s one just up the road.”

“Great.” Dylan followed the directions, then pulled the car into the parking lot of the desolate showroom – which was basically a huge glass box with a giant paint- peeling wooden sign on the roof and mid-range cars lined up in front and inside.

They all climbed out into the sunshine, and were greeted by a balding middle-aged man wearing a sheepskin coat – even though it was the middle of summer.

“How can I help you, sir?” the man asked in a weasly voice, speaking directly to Dylan, which irritated Sarah.

“Hey,” Dylan said. “We need to get rid of this car and get a new one.”

The man snorted. “On the run?”

Guilt flashed through Sarah, but Dylan kept his cool. “No. Just keen to get another vehicle today.”

The man eyed-up Dylan suspiciously. “You got your owner’s manual?”

“All the papers are in the glove box.”

“Come this way. I’ll show you what we’ve got.”

Dylan followed him, so Sarah and Joseph strolled into the waiting room to sit down. It wasn’t exactly the nicest place Sarah had been – it was cramped, and contained plastic chairs and a coffee-table strewn with out-of-date car magazines. It smelled of metallic cleaning chemicals, and the TV in the corner was blaring out a twenty-four-hour news channel.

Sarah and Joseph tried to get comfortable on the hard plastic seats.

“Do you really think we were being followed?” Sarah asked. “Or is your brother just keen to change his car?”

Joseph chuckled. “I’m not sure. He usually knows what he’s doing. Do you know why we’re going to Essex?”

Sarah’s jaw dropped. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No. He said he wanted to introduce me to someone. But I’ve no idea who.”

“Well… I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

They shared a smile. “He’s good guy, you know,” Joseph said. “I know he acts tough, but… he cares about people.”

“I know.”

They both allowed their gaze to drift to the TV screen, and shock gripped Sarah’s muscles as she saw Orlov on the news, talking casually to the press. He seemed to be charming their socks off. He
was
incredibly attractive...

Sarah shook herself out it, then she stood up to increase the volume.

Orlov spoke with a cool Russian accent. “I am determined to find this person who killed my darling Natalia. I will not rest until justice has been served for her.”

Joseph halted by Sarah’s side, mesmerised by the TV. “Do you think
he
killed her?”

“I think he had a hand in it. Did Dylan tell you who Natalia was working for?”

“No?”

“From what I gather she was part of an anti-government rebel group. I guess Orlov didn’t realise
that
when he married her. He must be feeling pretty stupid right now.”

Joseph’s brow furrowed. “So… if that information was discovered by his gang, he’d be a dead man?”

“Yeah – his ‘gang’ being the Russian government. But I guess they wouldn’t be too pleased, no.”

“Hmm…”

“What?”

“Well… if he knows that
we
know Natalia’s true identity… maybe he’d want
us
dead too?”

Sarah’s skin tried to crawl into her bones with fear. “No one said they wanted us dead, did they?”

Joseph opened his mouth to reply, but Dylan strode back in, twirling a key around his finger. “Okay, you two? Let’s get out of here.”

Sarah unglued herself from the grubby floor, and followed him and Joseph back to the forecourt, where Dylan unlocked a shiny blue four-by-four. “Hop in.”

They travelled on the freeway in silence for a while, as Sarah tried to make sense of all this. She gazed at the green fields and trees whooshing past at eighty miles-an-hour. Then she glanced at Dylan, who was still getting used to the new car. “Me and Joseph just saw Orlov on the TV,” she said.

Dylan tensed. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. He was saying he’s determined to get revenge for Natalia’s death.”

Dylan snorted. “What’s he gonna do? Kill himself?”

Joseph leaned forward in the backseat. “Sarah’s just told me that you think Natalia was a double-agent, and Orlov found out and killed her because of it.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m assuming,” Dylan said. “Because the rest of his little corrupt gang might’ve killed
him
if he hadn’t put an end to her life, huh?”

Sarah leaned her elbow on the inner-door armrest. “Dylan, why don’t we just tell the police all this information?”

“You think they don’t know already, Sarah? You think that detective doesn’t know about the organisation Natalia was working for? Sure she does. She knows just as
we
do that Orlov killed her. But she needs to follow the law and find evidence.
We
need to make sure we stay alive and keep our loved ones safe until she can get him behind bars. I don’t wanna end up like Ivan.”

Sarah reached out and squeezed his arm. “Okay, I trust you. It was just a suggestion.”

He smiled kindly. “I know.”

Sarah allowed herself to relax as Dylan pulled off the freeway and into Essex. The divided highway gave way to the local roads, which soon became a country lane. Sarah had grown up in a little village like this – a suburb on the other side of London – but she hadn’t been back since she’d sold the family guesthouse. It was like stepping back in time – in her own life and in reality. The summer was in full bloom, and a mellow feeling slunk through her like honey. This road was dotted with ancient trees, which had probably been here even longer than this old village.  Sarah wound down the window and her nostrils caught the aroma of the seaside – the salty air, the fish and chips… the warmth.

Dylan drove slowly over the bumps and potholes, just managing to squeeze this huge car along the narrowing lane. He drove up a sharply inclined hill, then parked at the end of a track, which overlooked the beach from on high. The sea was calm and inviting, but Sarah knew it would be freezing, even on this scorching July day.

Childlike excitement whirled through her and her worries unwound. She noticed an old cottage up here on its own, secluded from the rest of the village. This resident clearly wanted to keep the world at a distance.

They all clambered out of the car and stretched after their journey. The sweet sound of birdsong filled Sarah’s ears and she realised with joy that she couldn’t hear any traffic. It was such a contrast to grimy London. It was more like being on
vacation
than on the run.

“Who lives here?” Joseph asked.

Dylan gazed at him pensively for a moment, deciding whether or not to warn him of who he was about to be reunited with. But it would take a lengthy explanation, and he needed get them out of sight as quickly as possible. So instead he gestured for Joseph and Sarah to go to the front door. He lifted the old brass knocker and rapped sharply on the sturdy oak.

Sarah realised – as it stopped – that there’d been music playing softly from within. A masculine voice from inside sounded suspicious. “Who is it?”

“It’s Dylan.”

The door was unbolted and unlocked, then it opened a slither. The man inside stayed in the shadows. With Dylan leading, they all stepped in.

It was dimly-lit, but cozy – smelling of freshly laundered linen and cinnamon. The low wooden beams, the vintage furnishings, and the brick fireplace all made it seem nostalgic. Sarah’s eyes adjusted to the light and took in the six-foot form of Ivan Quinlan. She hadn’t seen him for years, but he looked older than she was expecting. He had a shaggy brown beard, thick-rimmed glasses, and longer hair than the other brothers. This wasn’t just a man in hiding; it was a man who’d given up on life. He’d been shattered from the inside out.

Joseph and Ivan were staring at each other; eyes locked, bodies frozen. Joseph looked confused, but he was holding it in, as if he wanted to be sure that this
was
actually his dead brother before he made any false moves. Ivan – on the other hand – looked irritated. Sarah guessed Dylan wasn’t supposed to bring people here, particularly not family members who could be at risk.

Joseph didn’t take his eyes off Ivan. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“Ivan faked his own death,” Dylan explained. “Because of an invention he and Tariq made. A perpetual motion device that would’ve meant no more oil. Obviously certain people weren’t happy with that – like the oil barons, for example – so we destroyed everything. And now he’s living here…” He turned his attention to Ivan. “I’m sorry I brought him here, Ivan, but I couldn’t bear to see him in pain anymore.”

Ivan unfroze. “Dylan, you’re a fucking idiot.” His irritated expression morphed into an affectionate grin, then he pulled Joseph’s tense body into his arms. “Jesus, Joseph, I’ve missed you so much.” He slapped him on the back. “You’re much more sensible than your older brothers, huh. You do as you’re
told
for starters.”

Joseph pulled away and touched Ivan’s face. “Is it really you?”

“It is. I’m sorry I’ve put you through all this shit. But it was for your own safety. Still is. You shouldn’t be here. Dylan, what the fuck are you playing at?”

“Let’s sit down and I’ll explain. Hey, you remember Sarah?”

Ivan inspected her. Then he grinned. “Hell, yeah, Sarah, sure I do!” He thrust out a strong hand and they shook firmly. “You haven’t changed in all these years. You still look twenty-one.”

Sarah smiled shyly. “Thank you. That Quinlan charm runs deep in your veins, I see.”

He laughed tenderly. “Come and sit down. Dylan, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

They all went through to the cramped living room and sat. The downstairs of Ivan’s cottage was snug. The kitchen and living room were essentially the same room, just separated by a half-wall and a step. Sarah sank into the velvet couch and Dylan held her hand. Ivan and Joseph sat on the couch opposite. It smelled musty in here – like a tomb – and Sarah wished someone would open a window.

“So what’s this all about?” Ivan asked.

“Did you see the news?” Dylan asked. “On the TV?”

Ivan shot him a blank look. “Do you see a TV in here?”

Dylan’s expression remained deadpan. “You
do
have the internet, though, right?”