The Billionaire's Kisses: Billionaire Brothers (2 page)

Amy was secretly impressed with the extravagance of the Quinlan Brothers office suite. The layout was modern and vibrant, with laminate flooring and an open plan section. But it managed to retain a traditional professionalism – there was a grand reception desk that led to the elevator, via an art-lined corridor, where Amy was now dragging her suitcase back behind her.

As much as she’d been desperate to spend more time with Adam, Amy knew she needed to resist his charms. She was feeling tender and vulnerable, and he clearly wasn’t looking for a committed relationship. And Amy certainly wasn’t looking for a quick, meaningless fuck.

Leaving Dylan to his phone call, they walked past the reception desk and back down the corridor towards the elevator. Amy could sense Adam’s gaze all over her. It turned her on more than she cared to admit.

“Despite knocking me back and wounding me deeply,” Adam said, “that invitation for dinner’s still open. I’d be delighted to show you Manhattan. I’m assuming you don’t know anyone in this lonely old town?”

“No, Mr Quinlan. Unlike you, who probably has the telephone number of every eligible heiress in the state. I’m sure you can ask one of your wealthy debutantes to dinner tonight, and leave me to prepare my presentation for your finance director.”

Adam smirked. “Ah, but heiresses don’t fascinate me as much as you do.”

Amy stifled her joy at this compliment. “I fail to see what’s so fascinating about me. I’m just a normal woman from London.”

“Well, your British accent for a start – it’s like a cross between a stern school teacher and a naughty little girl. And I’m wondering which you
really
are.”

“I can assure you, I’m neither.”

Adam chuckled affectionately. “You’re a very attractive woman, Ms Carter.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you.”

Amy pressed the button to call the elevator, desperate to know what else he found so fascinating about her, but the elevator doors swished open straight away, which was annoying. Amy didn’t want to leave him and the wonderful attention he was bestowing upon her, making her feel special. But she could hardly change her mind about dinner now, could she? That would be like admitting defeat – like admitting he’d managed to charm his way into her affections. And she’d never tell him that. She knew his game; he was the type of man who saw her as a challenge while she was resisting, but then who’d drop her as soon as the fun was over.

She opened her mouth to say goodbye, but as the elevator doors opened fully, Amy’s body tensed at the sight of the man who was striding out, robot-like.

He was a six-foot tall Arabic-looking man, who – despite having a shaved head – was smartly dressed in a designer suit. His handsome face was expressionless, but there was one distinguishing feature that grabbed Amy’s attention and made her stomach churn: a nasty burn scar running from his cheek to his jaw, which looked painful and relatively fresh. Amy swallowed her fear and automatically stepped back in her heels, desperate to get out of his way.

Time slurred, as the man clocked her and halted menacingly. There was something creepy about him. Something terrifying behind those dark eyes.

He stopped in his tracks and looked her up and down, practically smelling her like a dog. “Are you the woman from Grafton Techs?”

Amy opened her mouth to try to reply, but time sped up and Adam suddenly pushed him in the chest. “Tariq, what the fuck are you doing here? Why aren’t you in jail?”

Tariq remained cool – a stark contrast to Adam’s sudden anger. “They let me go, Adam – pending trial. Until then, I’m a free man.”

Adam grabbed him by the shirt. “You need to leave right now. If Dylan sees you here, he’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, maybe I will.”

“I’m not leaving until I get back what you stole from me.” Tariq turned his attention to Amy. “You should know that you’re about to do business with thieves and liars. They’ll promise you the earth, but they’ll give you hell. Example…
you
. You were supposed to be mine.”

Fear gripped Amy tight, causing her knees to buckle. “What?”

Adam lurched forward and slammed Tariq against the wall. “Leave her the fuck alone, asshole – she doesn’t want to talk to you. You need to get the fuck out of here before I throw you out – preferably off the roof!”

Adam held Tariq in place as he frantically pressed the elevator button, but the elevator had gone back down. Tariq struggled against Adam’s grip and appealed to Amy.

“I need to tell you something. It’s important. Please!”

“Don’t speak to
her
, Tariq!”

“Let go of me, Adam!”

Adam called over to the receptionist. “Get security up here, will you?”

“Already called them, Mr Quinlan!”

Tariq scuttled out of Adam’s grip and was suddenly in Amy’s face. “Listen to me – the Quinlan brothers are trouble!”

She stepped away. This guy seemed dangerous – as if he might explode in her face like a petrol bomb.

Amy flinched as Adam punched him. “Get away from her, Tariq – leave her the fuck alone.”

As if on cue, the elevator doors swished open and two uniformed security guards shot out and grabbed Tariq, then they dragged him struggling back towards the elevator, like demons dragging a soul to hell.

“Don’t let him up here ever again,” Adam called, straightening his suit.

Amy watched as Tariq was manhandled into the elevator. She realised that her heart was pounding frantically in her chest. This sort of commotion would never happen at Grafton Techs. She suddenly felt in over her head.

The elevator doors slid shut, and the terrifying atmosphere smothered Amy – what the hell had just happened? And how had that guy known about Grafton Techs? Amy’s mind raced with confusion. But as Adam turned to face her and threw her a tender smile, she suddenly felt comforted. She smiled back at him, feeling relieved that she could finally let her guard down – knowing that she was fighting a losing battle when it came to Adam Quinlan. Yes, he was probably trouble, but there was something decent about him, too. He was the sort of man who’d do anything to protect her; she’d always be safe in his company.

He rested a hand on her shoulder, sending electric fizzles into her body. “Are you okay, Ms Carter?”

“I think so. Yes.”

“I’m so sorry about that.”

She realised she was trembling. “Who was he? How did he know about me and my company?”

“Let me explain everything… Over dinner?”

She shook her head and smiled cynically. “I don’t think it’s
safe
to be with you.”

Adam chuckled kindly. “I understand, but I promise–”

Adam’s attention was suddenly seized by his brother’s furious anger, as the receptionist informed Dylan about their intruder.

“What the fuck!” Dylan shouted. “Tariq Shard was here? Where is he now – I’ll fucking kill him!”

Adam winced at Amy. “I’d better go. Dylan’s about to explode.”

Amy nodded tightly, disappointed that Adam was choosing his brother over her. But of
course
he would.

“Can I see you later?” he asked, edging away.

Amy was desperate to know who Tariq Shard was, but she knew having dinner with Adam would be a mistake. “You know where I am, Mr Quinlan. And I’ll see you tomorrow for the meeting with the finance director.”

“Sure, okay. See you tomorrow.”

Adam reached out and squeezed her shoulder one last time, and any self-control she might’ve had went up in smoke at his smouldering touch. He severed eye contact and strode over to placate his brother, so Amy grabbed her suitcase and called the elevator again, hoping this time it wouldn’t contain danger.

As she waited, she listened to Dylan shouting that Tariq Shard wasn’t going to get away with this, and she was intrigued to know what was going on. How had Tariq known who she was, and what had he meant by saying she’d been
his
idea? Surely she needed to get to the bottom of this? But on the other hand, maybe it would be better to stay out of it, do what she came for, then get back to the safety of her little London apartment and her relatively drama-free job.

As the elevator doors swished shut behind her, she hoped that Tariq Shard – whoever he was – had been escorted far away from the building. Being here in New York City was stressful enough, without needing a run-in with a man who apparently ought to be behind bars.

Adam drove his BMW across the city to the old abandoned garage on the outskirts of town, where Tariq Shard and his dead brother Ivan been working on their project together until the accident. This was the broken-down end of town, so the extensive fire damage and yellow plastic ‘Police - Do Not Cross’ line blended perfectly with the shabby surroundings.

Adam approached quietly, avoiding stepping on any broken glass, not wanting to startle Dylan, who was leaning against the door-less door frame, staring into the blackness. The nearby burnt-out car and drizzly April weather reflected how Adam knew Dylan was feeling. Adam felt like that, too.

The last time he’d seen Ivan, Adam had known something was wrong. As the eldest brother, Ivan had always been laidback and patient; the brother everyone went to for guidance and advice. Even their parents had started going to Ivan for his opinion on business and personal matters. He was quickly becoming the head of the family – and their dad had been delighted to slowly relinquish that role for his wise and sensible eldest son.

But the last day Adam had seen his brother, Ivan had burst into Adam’s office, with panic plastered across his face, carrying a laptop bag, which he’d dumped on Adam’s desk.

“Adam, I need you to hide the contents of this bag in your safe here. Don’t tell anyone. It’s important!”

Adam remained seated in his leather swivel chair. He usually felt powerful and secure behind this huge mahogany desk, but Ivan’s behaviour was disturbing.

A bit of banter should calm things down. “What’s wrong, Ive? On the run from the FBI?”

Ivan didn’t laugh. Instead, he leaned over the desk, as if he was forcing himself
not
to grab Adam by the shirt and shake him. “For once in your life, can you please just do as I ask and put this stuff in your goddamn safe? Me and Tariq have… well, something terrible happened.”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “This mystery project you’re working on?”

Ivan pulled up a spare chair and slumped into it. “Yeah. I’m terrified it might be about to fall into the hands of the highest bidder.”

“What kind of highest bidder?”

“I dunno. The Russians; the Middle East. Once they get their hands on it… can you imagine?”

Adam stared at his brother. “No, because you won’t tell me what it
is
. If you’re in some kind of trouble, Ivan… Maybe it’s time to explain what’s going on.”

Ivan ran his fingers through his brown curls, making him look like an older version of Dylan. “Alright, I guess you deserve an explanation. Call Dylan; get him in here. I’ll tell you everything about what Tariq and I have invented. And also, there’s a company called Grafton Techs who I need you buy…”

Dylan had joined them – and had been equally as surprised to see their eldest brother in such a panic. They’d both listened, captivated; unable to believe what Ivan was saying. Could it really be true?

And then, that evening, Tariq had started the fire and Ivan was dead.

                                                         ****

Back in the now, Adam joined Dylan by the burned-out entrance to the workshop, desperately wishing he could’ve done more to prevent the disaster.

“Hey,” Adam said. “I saw you leaving. I figured you’d come here.”

Dylan’s expression was severe. “Why didn’t you tell me Tariq was at the office?”

“I was too busy trying to get rid of him. What did you expect me to do? Ask him to take a seat so you could grab your baseball bat?”

Dylan stared into the empty burned-out cavern. “I don’t get it, Adam – why do the police keep changing their minds? Something doesn’t add up. First Tariq’s taken in for questioning, charged with arson, and
not
given bail until his trial. Now he’s out again, pending trial.”

“You think there’s something else going on?”

“I think he’s playing with the police. He’s a smart guy; they’re corrupt. I’m sure he’s told them something important. Something about the case.”

“Like what?”

Dylan stared at Adam with anger in his brown eyes. “I know he murdered Ivan; I just need some evidence.”

Dylan suddenly ducked down as if he planned to cross under the police line.

Adam grabbed him. “Dylan, no, come on. Don’t go in there again. I miss him too, but the place is a scorched shell and us getting in trouble with the police won’t bring Ivan back.”

Dylan stood straight and let out his anger. “Nothing will bring Ivan back! I never knew anything could be this painful. I can’t begin to imagine how mom and dad are feeling. It’s like our world’s been blown apart.”

“I know. But at least we’ve still got our family. We always support each other, right.”

They shared a brotherly smile. Thoughts of Ivan’s funeral assaulted Adam and he looked away. He’d realised something important that day. As he’d been surrounded by his family – all dressed in their designer clothes, arriving in their expensive cars – it’d occurred to him that all the money in the world meant nothing without… dare he say it… love. His parents were wealthy by their own making, but they couldn’t buy back their dead son. Adam’s personal bank statement always proudly declared an almost-infinite total, but he couldn’t use one cent to bring back Ivan. Or to impress the beautiful Amy. His body flushed with a yearning desire for her. He wanted her. But she wasn’t someone to be bought with expensive gifts or financial security. She was the sort of woman who wanted what money couldn’t buy…

He shook himself out of it. Why was he thinking about Amy at a time like this? How had his train of thoughts churned her up, straight after Ivan?

He focused back to Dylan. “Tariq said he was at the office to get what was his. Sounds like he’s determined to get his hands on the blueprints.”

Dylan’s morose mood suddenly surged to action. “We’ve gotta hide them somewhere else. Somewhere safe. And the prototype, too.”

“I agree. Leave the prototype with me – I’ll stash it somewhere secure. And we’ll put the blueprints in the bank vault.”

“Okay. And we’d better protect our other asset, right?”

“Ms Carter?”

“We need to keep Tariq away from her. You seem quite taken with her.”

Adam tugged at his winter coat to keep out the chill. “I don’t wanna involve her in this.”

“She’s already involved. She works for Grafton Techs, which we now practically own.”

“Not yet. Damn Frank’s car crash. If he was here we could’ve sorted this whole thing out right away by getting him to sign.”

“I know. But what was it Ivan always said?
This
is the situation and we need to deal with it. Take care of Ms Carter – shouldn’t be too much of a hardship for you.”

Dylan winked playfully. Adam refused to show how much he liked her, so he shrugged.

“Tariq Shard saw her, right?” Dylan said. “He’s not stupid – he could find her easily.”

“I know.”

Dylan raised a suggestive eyebrow. “So you gonna guard her?”

Adam kicked a discarded bottle top. The thought of another man going anywhere near Amy caused possessive jealousy to surge through his cock. “Yeah, I will. I’ll take the blueprints to the bank vault, and then pay her a visit. I’ll make sure Tariq stays away.”

“Good. Adam. This isn’t just for the memory of our dead brother; that device could revolutionise humanity. But someone like Tariq Shard – he wants to use it for his own financial gain. We owe it to Ivan to get this out there on our terms.”

“I know, and I agree. I’ll go speak to Ms Carter at her hotel later. But first, I’ll move the prototype and blueprints to a safe place – well out of the reach of Tariq Shard.”