Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (36 page)

I suspect she must have had a fairly satisfying night.

The sun warms my shoulders as we all sit happily
together like a new family, seemingly already at ease with each
other.

It strikes me that, although I felt nervous when I left
my room, that feeling has now completely dissipated. Stephen Black is
just so disarming that it's almost impossible to feel uncomfortable
around him.

I spare a few thoughts for my father, though, almost
feeling guilty with how I'm feeling. The way my mother
unceremoniously dumped him soon after he lost his fortune left me,
for a while at least, favoring him as my preferred parent.

Yet, as the years went by, I began to see that the
relationship wasn't really all it seemed to me, and my mother told me
the divorce had been brewing for a while.

“
Losing the money was just the final straw,
sweetheart. And I only divorced him once you had become an adult.”

She told me that they stayed together for my sake, but
once I'd grown up there really wasn't any point it in anymore.
Gradually, my frustration with my mother eased and I began to
understand a little more where she was coming from.

Still, her mind was always set on replacing my dad with
someone of means, someone who could take care of her and keep her in
the manner that she had become accustomed to.

Well, Stephen Black can certainly do that...

It's nearing 10 AM when the sound of Tyler's voice oozes
behind me.

“
Morning everyone. Father, Sue...Abby.”

He comes forward and piles a plate full of food, making
me wonder how he manages to stay in such amazing shape.

Probably one of those guys with a super fast
metabolism. Those lucky shits who can eat what they want and still
stay lean...

He sends me a wink as he sits down, but his usual smirk
is absent and he seems a little more relaxed than I've seen him.

Together we all eat and drink orange juice and comment
on the weather. After breakfast, Stephen offers to take us on a
stroll into the farther reaches of the estate that we didn't have
time to venture to yesterday.

The place truly is sprawling, set on hundreds of acres
of beautifully kept lands filled with lakes and ponds and woods and
lawns. Everywhere we go there seem to be gardeners taming the
landscape, and I even notice some security guards manning the outer
boundaries.

Oh, the life of a billionaire...

Tyler, to my surprise, accompanies us, and seems on
better behavior today. Aside from the odd grin and sleazy look in my
direction, he actually talks like a normal person, telling me about
his work with the family business.

By all accounts, his tardy nature hasn't stopped him
from rising to a prominent position within his father's empire.

“
He wants me to take over,” he tells me. “Although,
if you ask me, he won't let go until he's six feet under. He loves
his work as much as he loves your mom, and that's saying a lot.”

“
You really think he loves her?”

“
Sure. I've only ever seen him this attentive with my
mother back when I was younger.”

“
What happened to her, if you don't mind me asking?”

His expression turns more serious, seizing up slightly.

“
She died when I was 16. Cancer.”

“
I'm sorry.”

“
That's OK. It doesn't matter how rich you are, you
can't buy your way out of having cancer...”

He speaks with an ironic tone, the wound still a little
sore to the touch.

By early afternoon we enjoy a beautiful lunch, taken
down by the lake. We take small rowing boats out, and Tyler's playful
side appears, splashing me in a flirty fashion and, most likely, in a
bid to get my shirt wet.

He succeeds, and my bra quickly appears beneath my
sodden top.

“
Nice,” he says, ogling my cleavage.

I splash him back in reply.

Later we swim, the water warm, and I gaze at Tyler's
body as he swiftly shoots underneath the surface of the water with
the speed and grace of a creature born to the seas.

He shakes his hair and stands under the sun, dripping
wet, the shining light showing the deep carvings of his abs. It's
only when my mom calls me from the shore that I remember myself and
drag my eyes away.

But he knows I've been looking.

By early evening, Stephen kisses my mother goodbye and
gives me a hug.

“
I have to work this evening and I'll be very busy
this week, darling,” he says to my mother. “But next weekend I'd
love to take you both to my place in the Caribbean.”

My mother hugs him tight, giddy as a schoolgirl, and
tells him we'd love to.

And in the background, I see Tyler watching me, eyes
caressing my body, undressing me in his mind.

When he kisses my cheek to tell me goodbye, he whispers
in my ear.

“
Next weekend can't come soon enough.”

Chapter Four

Back at my grotty apartment in Queens, I look at the
place with a new eye.

I suppose it's natural to compare things, and after
enjoying the grandeur of the Black estate, my apartment seems even
worse than it was before.

It takes me a couple of days to get used to it again,
and as soon as I've managed to do so I'm being whisked away once
more, finding myself standing on a private airfield near JFK looking
at the sleek shape of a white jet sitting on the tarmac.

Stephen greets my mother and I outside, looking
delighted but exhausted after what was probably a long week at work.

“
You ready to go?” he asks and we nod in unison,
smiles wrapping around both our faces.

I climb the stairs, and marvel at the luxury interior,
adorned with sofas and tables and with the look and feel of a high
end hotel living room.

At the far end, with his legs casually crossed over one
another, sits Tyler, slick suit clinging to his frame like a baby
monkey to its mother. He holds a bottle of beer in hand, and quickly
places it down to come greet us on arrival.

He kisses me gently on the cheek again, lingering a
little longer than is customary, before retiring to his original
position and looking out the window.

The plane roars, moving into position and then charging
up the runway with the ferocity of a storm. It's quite different from
the usual experience of taking off in a commercial airliner. The
entire plane feels much more agile, much faster, and strangely, much
more vulnerable.

It's my mother, however, who's always had the slight
fear of flying, so Stephen spends most of the first 30 minutes making
sure she's comfortable and, more importantly, distracted.

I sit, staring out of the window, wondering why Tyler
appears to be ignoring me. In fact, what annoys me most is that I
care.

He hardly looks at me at all, unlike the previous
weekend when his eyes ogled me at every opportunity, and I start to
think that perhaps he's bored of the games and is onto the next girl.

I'm sure a guy like him doesn't hang around with any
one girl for long...

The debate that had been raging in my head all week
reawakens as I sit there. Pretty much a tug of war between my head
and my heart. Well, not my heart...my loins.

My head says no, very firmly, and suggests that there's
something almost incestuous about the whole thing. I mean, the guy's
dad is seeing my mom. That makes us siblings, almost.

My heart, or loins, however, don't give a fuck about the
moral side of things. Having not been laid for two years, suddenly
coming across a guy who can fuck like a stallion is sending my
hormones wild. And he just happens to be here, right now, casually
glancing out at the fluffy clouds with a pensive look which I'm also
finding strangely attractive.

I turn my mind from him and look out of my own window on
the opposite side of the plane. Down below there's nothing to see but
a blanket of cloud, thick and white and filling the view below like a
massive, frothy soup.

Eventually my mom begins to loosen up and Stephen starts
talking excitedly about the island he's taking us to, St Barts, where
he owns his own beach property. By the time we touch down I feel like
I've already visited the island such is his capacity for painting a
picture with words.

We roll up to a small airfield and taxi toward a private
hanger. Outside, a car awaits us, ready to take us on.

“
Everyone off,” shouts Stephen as he descends to the
ground outside and greets the driver.

My mother and I follow, Tyler plodding out behind us in
the rear looking more forlorn than usual.

It's hot, much hotter than New York. The burst of warmth
hits me immediately, wrapping my body up in a cloak of humid, sticky
air. As soon as we enter the car, however, I'm cooled by the blow of
the air conditioner inside.

My mind turns from
Tyler to the surroundings as the car pulls out and begins traveling
through the jungle and along ocean roads. Beaches of white stretch
out along the coast, the sea the color of turquoise close to the
shore and then growing toward a darker navy blue as the ocean bed
deepens.

The journey takes no time at all, however, and within
only five minutes we're being dropped off at a sprawling villa that
shines white under the sun.

“
Follow me, I'll show you around.”

Stephen takes us on the customary tour, my mother
commenting regularly and gasping with delight the more she sees of
the place. Tyler, meanwhile, opts out and makes his way immediately
outside to an incredible infinity pool.

Just as Stephen leads us upstairs, I see him strip off
and dive in, and quickly look forward to testing the water myself.

“
It's truly magnificent darling,” says my mother,
giving Stephen a kiss. “Thank you so much for inviting us.”

“
No need to thank me, Sue. Hopefully this is the first
of many trips here.”

Their eyes meet with a sparkle and I'm given hope that
life after 50 doesn't have to mean the end of romance. When you're
young, you think that your parents simply tolerate each other and
nothing more. At least, that was my experience.

You certainly don't think that two single people of
around 50 could be so genuinely into each other, as if they were
finding love for the first time.

The sight warms my heart and makes me smile.

That day we spend lounging by the pool, bonding, eating
and drinking. Tyler remains fairly closed off, however, seemingly
content with improving on his bronzed skin tone and indulging in a
variety of different alcoholic beverages.

By the time we eat dinner together on a beautiful
balcony overlooking the beach below, he's more withdrawn than ever.
Strangely, however, Stephen doesn't draw attention to it. All he does
is give him the odd pat on the back, while my mother asks him only
once if he's OK.

He merely answers with a smile and a light nod and
returns to his suddenly introverted state, as if he's swapped places
with an identical twin who's quiet, shy, and completely antisocial.

His sulky presence doesn't ruin the evening though.
Under the beautiful stars, which seem about five times as clear and
bright out here as in New York, we eat and drink and watch the water
shimmering out on the sea.

The place is idyllic and utterly transfixing, and once
more I begin to fear that when I return home to my apartment and
world of unemployment and dissatisfaction, I'll feel even worse than
I did the first time around.

The thought occurs
to me that perhaps it's better if I'd never even came, because then
I'd never miss what I've never had. For years now I've gone without
vacations to beautiful parts of the world, something we used to do
often as a family, and now, maybe, they're going to return with a new
man at the helm.

Once again, I feel a snap of guilt for thinking that
way, knowing my father's up in Chicago trying to rebuild his fortune
without the support of my mother with him. I see him as often as I
can, but I get the impression that he'd rather I didn't come visit
until he was truly back on his feet.

Unfortunately, that's been going on for years and he's
still in the same small apartment and working the same dead end job.

As with our evening at the Hamptons the previous week,
Stephen takes my mother for a stroll along the moonlit shore. I watch
as they descend the stairs, laughing and holding hands tight, before
disappearing out into the darkness.

Alone with Tyler now, I resolve to get to the bottom of
his melancholy.

“
What's wrong with you,” I ask, not expecting a
truthful answer. “You've been quiet all night. I mean, I don't know
you that well, but you don't seem like the quiet type.”

“
You're right,” he mumbles. “You don't know me.”

“
Well them help me change that. At least tell me
what's going on. Your father knows, that's obvious enough. Is it
something to do with him?”