The Billionaire's Kisses: Billionaire Brothers (14 page)

James gazed at her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She smiled. “It’s alright. We live and we learn. Nothing’s ever wasted.”

Adam grinned at her, and she laughed, feeling the constraints of the past drop away, and the future up ahead sparkle with optimism.

The weekend passed in a blur of joy – Amy was proud to show Adam the glorious springtime parks in London, her favourite cafés, and more of herself than she had done with any other man before, physically and mentally. The sex continued to be mind-blowing, and the conversations between them had bonded her to Adam in ways that she never knew possible. Being with Adam was as natural as breathing; Amy was so comfortable with him that there was a seamless transition from laughing in sex shops, to sharing painful stories about their childhoods. But, of course, reality crept swiftly around the corner of Amy’s happy little bubble, and Sunday night arrived. The flight back to New York on Adam’s jet was as fun as the journey to London, and once they arrived, he invited her to stay at his place until she was able to sort out her own Manhattan pad – to be paid for by Quinlan Brothers, of course. Amy would be working for them now.

Adam’s apartment took Amy’s breath away. Luxury was an understatement. It took up the entire floor of an exclusive skyscraper – which was home to some of the richest people in the City. With its twenty-four-hour concierge and massive gym in the basement, the entire building reeked of money, but Adam’s place was relaxed and unpretentious, – rather like the man himself. The immaculate living room was like a hotel suite, with huge couches, and a breathtaking view over Manhattan, and the white walls were hung with colourful modern art that made the place feel fun. When they’d first arrived here, Amy had thoroughly enjoyed riding Adam on the massive soft rug in the centre of the room – before he’d carried her off to the bedroom, to roll around on his satin sheets for more fantastic lovemaking.

But today the atmosphere was tense and serious. Amy sat in the living room, dressed in her pencil skirt, suit jacket, and heels, mentally preparing herself to meet Tariq Shard once again. The door-buzzer sounded, so Adam went off to answer it, then he led Dylan though to sit down with them.

Amy was delighted when Adam sat next to her on the couch and held her hand. This private show of affection in front of his brother spoke volumes, making Amy feel proud and accepted.

Dylan sat opposite them, looking tired and weary. “Hey, Amy, nice weekend? How was London?”

“Good, thanks. It was great to show Adam around.”

Adam threw her a cheeky grin, but refrained from making any sexual innuendos. There was enough tension between ‘the new girlfriend’ and ‘the gruff brother’ without Adam needing to complicate things with a flirty joke.

“So are you ready to meet our nemesis?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Adam leaned forward to explain the plan. “We’ve got a hidden mic and camera on Amy, so we’ll be able to keep track of her every move – just in case he tries anything. We can sit in the car and monitor her from the laptop – listen to what he’s saying and even record him if he confesses anything.”

“Sounds great,” Dylan said. “And where are you meeting him? In a restaurant?”

“Um, no,” Amy said. “At his house. He gave me his address.”

Both men gazed at her in shock.

“You’re not serious?” Adam asked.

Amy shrugged. “That’s what he wants. What’s the problem?”

“I thought you’d meet in a public place,” Adam said. “I’m not happy with this.”

“Why? I’ll have my cell phone; you’ll be monitoring me. And I do know how to use a front door. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

Adam squeezed her hand gently. “Tariq lives in his late-parents’ house on the outskirts of town… it’s this big old mansion on a hill. Middle of nowhere, you know? I’d prefer it if you could meet in a café – and sit in the window where we can see you.”

Amy tried not to get drawn into Adam’s worries – she was nervous enough as it was. “Well, it’s too late to change things now – he’ll get suspicious. You’ll be monitoring me with the camera and mic. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well, if he tries to hurt you, I’ll fucking break his arms.”

“I’m sure he’s not planning on harming her, Adam,” Dylan said.

Adam glared at his brother. “Not unless he wants a ticket straight to hell...”

Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but Adam continued talking. “Look, Dylan, there’s something we need to tell you…”

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “You’re not getting married, are you?”

Adam burst into laughter. “No!” He glanced at Amy. She blushed at the thought – but how sweet that such a notion had entered Dylan’s mind and popped out of his mouth! She wondered what Adam had been saying to his brother about her. Or perhaps he’d noticed a change in Adam’s behaviour. Amy felt proud that she’d won the heart of this playboy and tamed him for the better.  

Adam fell serious. “I’m gonna tell you the truth about Ivan. It’s what Tariq told Amy…”

Dylan stiffened. “Right?”

“Yeah… I’ll get you a drink. Be right back.”

“Why, Adam? Let’s just hear it.”

Adam ignored him and sped off to the kitchen, leaving Amy to chat with someone who clearly didn’t enjoy small talk.

She reached out to the designer coffee table and picked up the cup of tea she’d made before Dylan had arrived. She stared into the warm liquid and prepared herself to ask Dylan about his weekend, but shock made her almost drop her cup, as he spoke sincerely.

“I’m sorry I’ve been such an asshole to you, Amy. It’s been a tough month. I do appreciate what you’re doing for us today. Especially after what
we’re
doing to your company.”

She forced herself to relax. “Thank you for saying that. And it’s fine. We all cope with loss differently. I know
I
wasn’t the nicest to be around when my mother died.”

“Well, we certainly can’t say that about you
now
.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying I think you’re nice, that’s all.”

She sipped her tea. “Oh. Thanks.”

Dylan shrugged. “You know Adam’s never brought a woman back here, don’t you?”

“Why not? It’s lovely.”

He chuckled kindly. “It’s not that he’s ashamed. He just never likes to let women in. I guess I’m the same. He must think you’re pretty darn special.”

“Thank you. I think he’s pretty darn special, too.”

They shared a smile and Amy felt her tension slip away. It was good to have Dylan’s blessing. They held affectionate eye contact for a moment, and the air between them vibrated with peace.

Dylan slapped the couch decisively. “We won’t let anything happen to you with Tariq today, okay. We’ll park down the road and make sure you’re safe. We Quinlans look after our own.”

“I know. Thank you, Dylan.”

Adam strode back in carrying a large whiskey, which he held out for Dylan to take.

“What’s this for? It’s not even lunchtime.”

“Just drink it. You’ll need it.”

Dylan slowly took the proffered glass. “Okay?”

Adam sat back down on the couch next to Amy and held her hand. He winced at Dylan. “The thing is, it’s possible your suspicions about Tariq being responsible for Ivan’s death might be right. But maybe not quite how you thought.”

The house stood at the top of a hill, looming over the empty road below. In this pouring April rain, it resembled something from an Alfred Hitchcock movie, with its gothic design and dark brickwork. Amy slammed the door to the taxi and ran in her tight skirt and heels up the crumbling stone steps, feeling surreal. The secret camera and mic she was wearing on the lapel of her jacket made her feel like a private detective – she’d never been in a situation like this before, and it was disconcerting.

Trying not to slip on the wet steps, she wished she was back in Adam’s king-size bed, where she’d woken up this morning. But at least she was safe in the knowledge that Adam and Dylan were parked at the end of the road, out of sight around the corner, like a couple of cops on a stakeout. She knew there was no way Adam would let anything happen to her.

But there was something eerie about Tariq’s home. He lived in the old family mansion on the outskirts of town, and it was clear that he’d hardly done any work on it since his parents had passed away a few years ago. It loomed over the surrounding area, which was also Tariq’s land, so there weren’t any other houses in the vicinity. Amy knew that being afraid didn’t necessarily mean there was anything to be afraid
of
, but she still took a moment to compose herself, before reaching out to ring the rusty doorbell.

She straightened her suit and brushed her hair out of her eyes, hoping she looked professional and trustworthy.  As she waited on the doorstep, she ran through the plan in her head. It was simple, but maybe not so easy. She was going to pretend that she’d convinced Adam to give her one of the blueprints from Ivan’s file, then she could hopefully get Tariq to admit that he was blackmailing her, and they could double-blackmail
him
. And perhaps eventually she might get him to admit that he murdered Ivan.

But she still wasn’t sure if he was capable of that.

The heavy wooden door creaked open and Tariq appeared in the doorway. He threw Amy a childlike grin, then gasped. “You’re soaking wet! Come in.”

“Thanks.”

She stepped over the threshold and dripped on the threadbare carpet as he closed the door. Her heart thumped with nerves – what if he was to discover her recording device? But surely she could handle him. Yes, he was six-foot tall with a shaved head, but he seemed so gentle. Today he was dressed in a turtle-neck sweater and jeans, which made him seem even less threatening. The scar on his face looked painful, but his mood was boyish and jovial, as if he was excited about having a guest over.

“I’ll get a blanket to wrap around your shoulders,” he said. “Why don’t you go through to the living room?”

“Oh, it’s okay – I’m really not that wet.”

“Well, alright. But you go through; I’ll make you some tea.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

In the living room, Amy perched on a red velvet chaise-longue among antique paintings and cluttered trinkets. She wrung her hands together, wondering whether Adam and Dylan were able to see what she could see. She really wished they’d set up some way of communicating with each other. James had said the radio signal could be lost if she went… where was it? Underground or out of range. How far was out of range? He hadn’t said.
Shit
.

“I hope you’re watching over me,” she muttered.

Tariq appeared a few moments later with a silver tray of tea things. He placed the tray on the mahogany coffee table, then sat down in an old armchair. A spring boinged beneath him, making him chuckle. He seemed small in this huge cluttered room, which caused sympathy to spiral up inside Amy. He lived alone here, probably missing Ivan like crazy, and thinking of nothing but how Adam and Dylan had stolen his life’s work.

She reached over to pour the tea, reminding herself whose side she was supposed to be on.

“So…” she said. “Nice house you’ve got here.”

“Thank you. I grew up here and I can’t bear to part with the old place. My parents bought it when they first came over from Persia – before dad joined the army – and their memories are all here. I miss them, especially my mother. While I’m here, she’s still alive a little bit.”

Amy added a dash of milk to her tea. There was a sinister awkwardness about the way Tariq spoke of his dead mother that made Amy briefly hope her remains weren’t stashed in the basement. Amy shook herself out it. She was just nervous because of the hidden camera, but this man was no threat to her. He was gentle and harmless. It was probably just the sound of the rain hammering against the old window panes that was creeping her out so much.

She sipped her tea. “I’m sorry for your loss. I also lost my mother too young. It hurts every single day.”

He threw her a sad smile of camaraderie. “I know. But they’ll always be with us, Amy. People never really leave – they just move a little further away.”

“I know.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I blackmailed you. I was getting desperate and I didn’t know what else to do. I promise, it’s really not my style.”

“I guess you had your reasons, right? Are you hoping – with my help – that you’ll stay out of prison?”

His eyes flashed with anger. “Prison? I can’t go back there. When I was in custody, I had to fight for survival – just to keep my
shoes
. They don’t like my type. Prison makes slaves of people like me; rewarding ignorance and tearing down intelligence. Bullies and cowards. It’s always been the same. Adam and Dylan were the same when we were younger – reminding me of my inadequate failings. But Ivan stuck up for me. I loved him dearly, even then.”

Amy’s heart twisted with compassion. Even though Tariq was tall and well-built, he was actually a delicate soul.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to remind you of tougher times.”

He recovered and smiled sweetly. “It’s no problem. Please drink your tea.”

Amy gazed into the steamy liquid. “Shall we talk about what you hope to gain from me? I have some information for you that I’ve convinced Adam to give me. It’s from Ivan’s files.”

“Oh, I’d like to see that. Are you warm enough? Getting dry?”

“Er, yes. Thank you.”

“Good. Ivan will be very happy to know you’re helping me, Amy. You’ve chosen the right brother now – believe me.”

Oh god, he was talking about Ivan as if he was alive. “You and Ivan were very close, weren’t you?”

“We still are.”

“Right… Adam mentioned that you fell out over a woman?”

Tariq laughed heartily. “Oh
no
. Well, yes
and
no. It was complicated.”

Amy sipped her tea and waited for him to speak next.

“Can I show you something, Amy?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Come with me.”

Tariq stood up, so Amy automatically did, too. He gestured for her to go back out to the hallway.

“This way,” he said.

Amy followed him down the corridor, to the top of some wooden steps that led to a basement doorway. Tariq gestured for her to go down. A shot of jagged fear zig-zagged up her legs. It was the sort of basement that was the refuge of spiders and banshees.

“Down there?” she asked.

“It’s okay,” Tariq said. “It’s nothing terrible. Just something I’ve been working on.”

She gripped the wooden bannister. “Can’t you just tell me?”

Tariq chuckled kindly. “Honestly, Amy, what do you think I’ve got down there? Frankenstein’s monster?”

Amy winced apologetically. Her knees filled with fear at the prospect of going anywhere near his basement, but her British sense of guilt kicked in – as well as her rational mind – and she shook herself out of it. It was true that Tariq was a bit awkward, but he wasn’t a serial killer. Surely there was no harm in finding out what he’d been working on. It might be something Adam and Dylan needed to complete the puzzle of Ivan’s invention. Or his death.

She propelled herself forward, placing one foot on the first step, then the next. She turned to face Tariq. He nodded encouragingly.

Amy inhaled deeply, then turned to continue her descent towards the rickety basement door. She halted in front of it and glanced back at Tariq again.

“It’s okay, just push it. It’s not locked.”

Amy pushed the door and it swung on its hinges. It was dimly lit inside, with no windows and stale air. She braced herself to see something horrible, but reminded herself that she wasn’t in any danger. She lifted her foot to step inside, but a clang behind her struck her brain like a bomb siren. She screamed and jumped around. Tariq reached out and grabbed the picture that had fallen from the wall. Amy panted, trying to calm her frantic heartbeat.

“Shit,” Tariq said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you jump. It was just this picture. I accidentally knocked it with my shoulder. Come on, let’s go in.”

Amy exhaled, realising she’d been holding her breath. She turned and crept into the dingy room, and – as her eyes adjusted to the light – she glanced around. She relaxed and chastised herself for being so paranoid. It was just a normal basement, with cardboard boxes stacked up against the walls, an old pool table, and…

Amy froze. Was
that
…?

There was an old couch pushed up in the corner, and as her eyes focused in the dimness, they seemed to be showing her a dead body lying on it. Amy swallowed, feeling her sense of reality slip away. She could sense Tariq loitering like a zombie behind her, sending prickles of terror down her exposed neck.

Desperate to prove her eyesight wrong, she slunk over to the couch, praying that the body was nothing more than an innocent shop mannequin, or some kind of voodoo. But electric panic gripped her internal organs, as she realised it was
Ivan’s
dead body.

Oh
god
! She didn’t dare turn to look at Tariq. Her mind pulsed with alerts of grave danger. Her normal sense of reality imploded, leaving only pumping, primal fear. But surely Adam and Dylan would be coming to the rescue any moment now, because they were seeing what she was seeing. Amy snapped into survival mode and realised the best thing to do would be to keep Tariq calm until they arrived.

“This is Ivan?” she whispered, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

“Yes,” Tariq said, standing close behind her.

She fixed her gaze on Ivan’s pale face, feeling her heart thrash wildly against her ribcage, desperate to escape. Poor Ivan, he looked so peaceful lying there with his eyes closed, blissfully unaware of the terrible shockwaves that his death had caused. Amy’s eyes welled with tears. Ivan had been a handsome man; it was such a shame. But… wasn’t it strange how well he’d been preserved considering he’d been gone for a month?

Amy inhaled to keep Tariq talking, planning to say how attractive Ivan had been, but her mind burst with terror as Ivan’s eyes flickered open…