The Billionaire's Heir: Billionaire Obsession (Tycoon Billionaires Book 4) (5 page)

Samira’s face lit up. “Your sister has a friend in immigration?”

“Yeah. She’s always traveling the world with her job and this guy and her have become close, if you know what I mean? Clara can wrap men around her little finger. I’m meeting her for coffee later so let me talk to her okay. Hey, tell you what, you should come into town too – I’d love you two to meet.”

“That would be awesome. And I’d love to meet your sister, but I’m not really supposed to leave the ranch without Mr. Langdon’s permission – he says it’s for my own safety – in case the immigration people catch up with me. There’s been this guy following me around for the last few weeks. That’s who I thought you were.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him. Why’s he following you?”

“I’m not sure – Mr. Langdon can be a bit short-tempered if I ask too many questions, so I haven’t gotten up the courage to ask yet. I think maybe he’s employing him to make sure I don’t leave or speak to anyone who might jeopardize my visa application. Like a private investigator, you know? I’ve been here for six months, so I’m not sure why Langdon’s suddenly gotten paranoid and possessive. Maybe he heard
you
were back in town.” She chuckled and hugged him.

He held her close, knowing she was just joking. Ivan was technically dead in the eyes of most people, so surely Mr. Langdon – whoever he was – wouldn’t be expecting him? He couldn’t be.

“Alright,” Ivan said. “Don’t worry – we’ll smuggle you out of here when we go meet my sister. You, me, and our gorgeous son are going to be together – in America, I promise you that – nothing is coming between us now… or ever again.”

Ivan had arranged to meet Clara in a small town between Laredo and the Texas coast, so Samira asked Lola to watch Quin, then she got comfy in the passenger seat of Ivan’s truck – and this one thankfully had air-conditioning. They chatted during the hour-long drive about Quin’s development, and Samira was thrilled that Ivan was already so in love with their little boy.

Ivan glanced in his rear-view mirror as they cruised down the freeway. “Our friend in the BMW’s still following. I wonder if I can shake him off.”

“Don’t do anything stupid please.”

He smiled. “As if.”

Ivan changed lanes and sped up, but their pursuer followed with no problem, weaving through the traffic like a heat-seeking missile.

“He’s bound to tell Langdon I left without his permission,” Samira said.

“Who cares? You’re a free person and you can do whatever you want.”

“Let’s just keep him on side until I get my passport back. If Langdon asks where I went today I’ll say I was feeling cooped up wanted a trip out. Hopefully he’ll buy that.”

“Sure. And if he doesn’t, he can deal with me. But I guess we’d better be careful and not act like we’re in love.” He threw her an affectionate glance and squeezed her thigh. “That’ll be hard.”

She smiled. “No public displays of affection – regardless of how possessive you’re feeling, okay?”

“Agreed. But, I’m definitely going to find out who the fuck our stalker is, and then I’m going to force him to leave you alone.”

Samira shook her head. She didn’t know why he couldn’t just ignore him until they were able to leave the ranch for good and start their lives together properly. But that was the Quinlans for you – they always finished what they started.

With the private investigator still in pursuit, Ivan pulled off the freeway, and drove them into a town that looked as if it hadn’t been renovated since the 1950s. It seemed to consist of one main road, with box-like red-brick stores and diners on either side. The storefronts were painted bright colors and had names like ‘Home Sweet Home’ and ‘Sew Simple’, suggesting that the folks around here liked to fend for themselves. Each store was proudly displaying the Stars and Stripes, as well as a few Texas Star flags too.

The only thing that gave this place a modern feel were the shiny pickup trucks parked in front of the buildings. It was eerily quiet, as if the townsfolk were expecting trouble…

Ivan parked the truck outside ‘Deena’s Diner’ and they both jumped out into the searing heat. Samira watched as the private detective’s car slowed and crawled past – pretending he was just casually searching for a parking space.

She refrained from holding Ivan’s hand as they walked toward the glass-fronted diner. “Shit,” Samira said. “I’ve just realized I literally haven’t been out of the ranch in six months, other than to do the suitcase exchanges. It’s so good to see shops and civilization.”

“Not much of
that
around here.” Ivan said with a chuckle. He fell serious. “But I guess by giving you your so-called freedom, Langdon actually made you a prisoner.”

“Yeah. Fingers crossed Clara’s friend can help me to stay in America without his help.”

Ivan held open the glass door for her. “I’ll do everything I can to ensure that happens, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, my love.”

It was a typical American diner – reminding Samira of the ones she’d seen on TV back in Iran. The checkerboard floor tiles were shiny, the tables were chrome, and the glass counter proudly displayed a huge array of cakes. The waitress drifted from table to table in her gingham dress and pumps, filling coffee cups to the brim and humming to the Country and Western tune on the radio.

There weren’t many other customers, but Samira could see Clara was a Quinlan, sitting there dressed in a sharp suit, typing on her laptop, talking on her phone,
and
drinking coffee all at the same time. She was slim, pretty, and hardnosed – Samira was certain that any man would need to work hard to penetrate that steely exterior. She wasn’t sure what a marine biologist did, but she’d expected someone a bit more laidback – maybe a hippy with a tie-dyed kaftan and pigtails. Clara was the antithesis of that image. Perhaps she was more relaxed when she donned her waders and got down to the practical work.

Ivan and Samira halted at Clara’s table, so she quickly finished her call, then she stood up and threw her arms around her big brother. He held her tight and they hugged hard. Ivan had told Samira earlier that he’d already been reunited with his parents and siblings, but Clara was obviously still pleased to know that her oldest brother was alive after all he’d put them through. 

Clara stepped back. “Great to see you, Ivan. You look like a cowboy – I never thought I’d see you in anything but a designer suit.”

He chuckled. “I can’t wait to get back into it. Hey, this is Samira.”

Clara turned and inspected her, pinning her down with steely eyes. Samira refused to feel self-conscious, so she smiled sweetly. “Hello.”

“Hello.” Clara thrust out her hand for Samira to shake. Her grip was firm, but Samira refused to play ‘who can squeeze the hardest’.

“Shall we sit down?” Ivan said.

Ivan and Samira sat opposite Clara, and they ordered coffee.

Samira glanced out the window and saw that the private investigator had found a space outside, and he was leaning against his car, pretending to read a newspaper. As if anyone would actually
do
that in the one-hundred degree heat out there. Samira almost felt sorry for him, dressed in his long-sleeved shirt and suit trousers. But at least he had his Stetson on to prevent heatstroke.

Ivan followed her gaze. “Do you want to invite him in for coffee?”

She chuckled. “No, sorry.”

“Who is he?” Clara asked. “And can you hook us up?”

“Try to contain your hormones,” Ivan said. “He’s some guy who’s been tailing Samira. We think Mr. Langdon’s hired him to spy on her.”

“Why?”

“He doesn’t like me to have friends,” Samira said. “He’s got this strange obsession of checking that I
really
don’t know anyone in America.”

“Sounds odd,” Clara said.

“Yes, he can be a bit odd at times. But he’s shown me such charity.”

Clara tore her eyes away from the hunk outside. “So,” she said, smiling at Samira. “My brother tells me I’m an aunt?”

Samira grinned. “That’s right.”

“Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you.”

Ivan held her hand under the table. “I’ve asked Clara not to tell the rest of the family. I’d love to get this whole thing fixed, then take you both home to meet everyone properly.”

Nerves swirled through Samira’s body at the thought of meeting the whole Quinlan clan at once. “Okay.”

“You should bring her to Adam’s wedding,” Clara said. “She’d be very welcome.”

Ivan cringed. “Oh god, that’s this weekend.”

“Ivan, don’t you dare miss it – Adam will be heartbroken, as will mom and dad.”

“I know, it’s okay. I’ll be there.”

The waitress plunked the coffees on the table, then drifted off again.

Clara sat up tall. “Right, Samira, down to business. We must do all we can to ensure you don’t get deported. I spoke to my friend at immigration earlier, and he said you need to get back your passport immediately – then he can begin the process of creating an application for you to remain in this country. It might take some time to get all the paperwork done, but he thinks he can issue an emergency visa to allow you to stay until then. But he can’t do anything without your passport.”

“What if me and Samira just get married?” Ivan asked.

Clara sipped her coffee. “That won’t guarantee she can stay here. We’ll need to build Samira’s case – that’s what my friend said.” She glanced at her dainty Rolex. “Look, I need to get back to the boat later tonight, but why don’t we meet up the day after tomorrow. Then we can see whether my friend has any more info for us.”

“Sure,” Ivan said. “And in the meantime, Samira can get back her passport from Langdon. And if
talking
doesn’t work – I’ll ty
my
method.”

Clara rolled her eyes at Samira in response to Ivan’s threats of brute force. Samira chuckled, feeling connected to this hardnosed Quinlan woman. She realized there was a lovely young lady under that designer suit, who cared a lot about her brother – and his girlfriend.

Ivan draped his arm around Samira’s shoulders, causing her muscles to melt with secure warmth. “No one’s breaking apart my family. We’ll get this fixed, I swear –just make sure you don’t marry Mr. Langdon in the meantime, sweetheart, okay.”

Samira laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t be marrying anyone any time soon.”

Samira and Ivan said goodbye to Clara and stepped back into the weak evening sunshine. It was still stiflingly humid out here, and the AC in the diner hadn’t been very effective, so Samira was looking forward to sitting in the truck and enjoying an icy blast of cool air. She also couldn’t wait to be alone with Ivan – the journey back to the ranch should be fun. And hopefully they might be able to sneak off to his cabin and make love before Mr. Langdon noticed she’d been gone all evening.

All she needed was her passport back, and then they could leave Texas...

She almost linked her fingers through Ivan’s as they ambled toward the truck, but she remembered at the last moment that they weren’t supposed to be touching in public, because of the private investigator.

Speaking of which, where was he?

Samira glanced behind herself and saw him leaning against the wall of a hardware store, lighting up a cigarette. He was staring right at her, not even trying to be subtle. Ivan followed her gaze, and she tried to grab his arm, but it was too late – he was already turning around and storming over to confront the guy.

“Ivan,” she said. “Don’t.”

Ivan ignored her and halted in front of the guy, practically growling. “I’m sick of the sight of you. Who the hell are you and why are you following her around?”

The private investigator blew out the smoke from his cigarette and raised a cocky eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Samira had expected him to speak with a Southern accent, but he sounded as if he was from New York. There was something about him that reminded Samira of Ivan’s younger brother Dylan, who she’d met briefly once. He was tough and cool, and looked as if he didn’t smile often. His chin was covered with a five-o’clock shadow, and his disinclination to break eye contact with Ivan spoke volumes about how much he wanted to dominate the situation.

Ivan would never let that happen. 

He grabbed the guy by the shirt, pinning him up against the wall. Instead of flinching as Ivan had hoped, the guy laughed and threw his cigarette to the ground. “Woah, cowboy! What the hell are you doing?”

Ivan pressed himself nose-to-nose with him. “I asked
you
a question. Why the fuck are you following her?”

The guy shoved Ivan with both hands, but Ivan stood firm.

“Following her? Are you kidding me? I’m just standing here minding my own goddamn business. Can’t a man even smoke a cigarette without –”

“Bullshit! Listen, man, I don’t know who’s paying you, but you need to leave her alone right now. You understand me?”

“Whatever you say, buddy.”

“Right.” Ivan stepped back to where Samira was watching with concern. He put his arm around her. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go.”

They walked away back to the truck in the stifling heat, and Samira slammed the passenger door. “Nice one, Ivan. Now he knows there’s something going on between us.”

She glanced out the window at the guy and saw he was still staring at them. He smirked, then threw them both a playful little wave.

Ivan gripped the wheel. “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

“Let’s just go.”

“Alright. But next time I get him alone I’m going to force him to tell me who he is.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He relaxed slightly. “I’m sorry, okay. I know I shouldn’t have bulldozed him like that, but I hate this situation. I’d love to drive us both to New York right now and never come back to Texas again.”

“I know. But first I need my passport. And our little boy.”

“I’m not going anywhere without him, that’s for sure.” Ivan started the engine and reversed into the road. “I know you think Mr. Langdon’s this sweet middle-aged guy who wants to help you, but I don’t like him, Samira. There’s more going on here than meets the eye.”

“Maybe. But I think it’s best if you refrain from assaulting people in the street.” She flashed him a smile. “Okay?”

He held her hand as he drove. “Alright.” He checked the rear-view mirror. “Oh… guess who’s
also
just decided to leave town.”

Samira twisted in her seat and saw the BMW brazenly following behind. They headed down the freeway toward the ranch, then once they were back, the private investigator parked halfway down the entrance road, leaving Ivan and Samira to park in the driveway nearer the house.

As they climbed out the car, Samira pulled Ivan by the arm to prevent him from going over to punch the guy’s lights out. “Come on, let’s go see our baby.”

They strolled together toward the staff cottages and went to see Quin. He was sleeping, but Ivan stood and watched him for ten minutes, holding Samira in his arms and feeling the spark of love ignite in his heart. But, as Samira gazed up at him and they shared a smile, his body washed with lust, and he realized he needed to take her back to his own cottage and make love to her over and over.

As soon as the door was closed, they were kissing passionately. He pulled her close and eased his tongue into her mouth, running his hands down her back and over her ass. She gasped with arousal.

“You’re a goddess,” he whispered, caressing her face.

She chuckled. “When I’m with you, I feel like one.”

“You
are
one. And I need to fuck you into absolute heaven.” He kissed her tenderly on the lips, then harder, suddenly desperate to kiss her beautiful body all over.

She stepped back and lifted her dress over her head, dropping it to the floor. “Be my guest.”

He pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms, then he lowered his face to nibble her neck, slipping his fingers between her thighs and relishing the silky feel of her wet panties.

“Yes, Ivan,” she gasped.

His rock-hard cock strained in his jeans, desperate to get inside her glorious tight pussy. Still kissing her wildly, he reached down to unbutton his jeans, then he let them drop to the floor – but realization struck and he stared at them with dread.

“What?” Samira asked.

“My jeans feel lighter than usual.” He grabbed them and delved into his pockets as his worry rose.  “Shit!”

“What is it?”

“My wallet. That son of a bitch must’ve stolen my wallet.”

She frowned. “Your wallet’s gone?”

“Yeah.”

“But… how do you know
he
stole it and you didn’t lose it?”

“I wouldn’t put anything past that asshole. I bet he swiped it when I had him pressed against the wall. A piece of shit like that wouldn’t miss an opportunity to find out more about me.”

“Did it have anything valuable in it?”

Ivan ran his fingers through his hair, trying to calm his racing thoughts. “You don’t understand, babe. My driver’s license still says I’m Ivan Quinlan. I didn’t bother to change my identity after I came back to America, because I assumed no one would know who I was – and those who
did
know thought I was dead.”

“So what? That guy doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

“No, but if he’s a private detective worth his salt, he’ll be doing background checks on me right now, meaning he’s about to find out who I
really
am. And then it’s only a matter of time before he tells your fiancé what he’s discovered. And
then
they’re going to wonder why they’ve got a dead software developer working on their ranch as a farm hand. It might make them slightly suspicious, don’t you think?”