Chapter Five
Dylan awoke to the sound of the front door clicking shut in the hallway. His sleepy mind frantically located where he was, and he realised he was lying on a leather couch, feeling hot and horny. He grinned. Sarah, oh my god, had he really made love to her last night? He stretched and opened his eyes. He knew she wouldn’t be here, but still part of him hoped she might be… No, all he saw was Adam’s baroque living room and an empty space in his arms where she should’ve been.
He shook himself out of it. This was for the best. All he’d wanted to do was fuck her out of his system, one more time. And that’s what he’d done. It was over, and that was good.
So why did a part of him feel desperate to see her again? The truth was, he woke up most mornings thinking of Sarah, so why should today be any different? But he refused to allow himself to be sucked back into falling in love with her. Love was painful. He enjoyed fucking women; seeing them climax when he possessed them entirely. Love was for losers. His mind drifted to the bet he’d made with Adam a few months ago. At the time, Adam had just confessed his love for Amy, and Dylan had vowed to remain a bachelor forever. Adam had bet him ten grand that he would fall in love within the next year. Dylan refused to lose. So all he needed to do was ensure he didn’t fall in love, and he’d win. He was the one controlling this. No problem.
But his body craved to see Sarah again as much as it was currently craving his morning cup of coffee. As much as breathing and eating. He realised that she was as addictive as caffeine – perhaps it had been a mistake to take that first shot of her, like a junkie regretting his first hit.
No, that was stupid. Dylan was a man in control of his world. He was a successful businessman – dominating and assertive in the boardroom and bedroom – he was renowned for it. So maybe what he actually needed was to have her once more, to really get her out of his system. She was like an itch that required a good scratch – in the same way that his morning wood was currently desperate for her to suck it dry.
He shook himself out of it and focused on the day ahead. What he needed to do right now was get back to his place so he could shower, then get suited-up for his meeting with Vladimir Orlov. Shit, that was going to be strained after last night…
It was weird that Natalia had said she’d have some information for him today. He grabbed his phone and quickly sent Joseph a message to meet him in Leicester Square at noon. He wondered what the hell Natalia could possibly want to tell him. Maybe it had something to do with the deal with Orlov. Dylan decided he wouldn’t sign anything at the meeting this morning, just in case. What a shame he couldn’t meet with Natalia first, then Orlov. But Dylan was good at stalling contracts. He knew he was exceptional at what he did – that first internship after he’d left college had taught him some invaluable negotiating skills. In fact, it’d made him the success he was today. Thank goodness he hadn’t thrown it away for love. For Sarah.
****
Dressed in his Armani suit, Dylan made his way up to the Grafton Techs offices, in Central London. He was accustomed to expensive and lavish offices in Manhattan, but this place was the antithesis – the entire building was stark, old, and dowdy. But there wasn’t much point in refurbishing – he didn’t plan to retain this company for long. Most of the back-office staff were in the process of being let go, because when he and Adam eventually did sell this software company, the buyer would only want the technical staff, their clients, and their specialisation in the marketplace. In other words, Grafton Techs was currently being treated to a Quinlan Brothers streamlining makeover – and that didn’t include prettying up the offices. So the blue carpet tiles and shoddy plywood furnishings would have to do for now.
Dylan grabbed a coffee and retreated to his office to get on with some work until Orlov arrived. But he couldn’t get Sarah out of his mind. Just seeing her again had overwhelmed him – pulled him out of the mundanity of his life. Perhaps it was because she reminded him of his happier days as a student. But perhaps his student days had been happy because of Sarah. She’d certainly brightened up his life back then…
The sound of his phone ringing dragged Dylan back to the here and now – it was the receptionist letting him know that Orlov had arrived. He braced himself for trouble. But surely even the young Russian tycoon wouldn’t kill him on his own turf?
But really, who knew what he was capable of – the guy stank of corruption. Orlov was one of the youngest men in Russian politics. He was still only twenty-five and he’d already been Mayor of Moscow and investigated for tax fraud and extortion. Dylan guessed that buying the soccer club made a good front for his shady deals, so he could lie low in London and wait until his plans for Russian politics came to fruition. Dylan wouldn’t have been surprised if he was heading for the top job of Russian President. But he’d need to bide his time for that position – the current President had been occupying his seat in the Kremlin for almost twenty years. Orlov definitely had it in him, though. His chiselled features, strong jaw, and high cheekbones made him the epitome of a powerful leader. And that arrogant twinkle in his eye made Dylan glad he was one-hundred percent straight – he’d seen hardened businesswomen turn into gushing teenagers from a single Orlov wink. The ladies loved him, but he’d famously fallen hard for Natalia last year and married her fast. What a shame she wasn’t quite so enamoured with him after all. But perhaps that was more to do with Orlov’s unpleasant personality. He was handsome and charming, but stern and merciless. Dylan wondered how many other men he’d already had killed after finding out they’d been messing about with his beloved wife. And what would his punishment be for Natalia if she ever got caught?
Dylan strode out of his office with his head held high, knowing he looked powerful and commanding. He didn’t let his surprise show as his gaze fell upon the assassin from last night, plus another burly Russian bodyguard loitering by the main exit. Orlov himself was sitting causally in the drab reception, typing on his laptop, pretending he hadn’t noticed Dylan. The power games were in full force this morning, but Dylan knew the rules and refused to lose.
“Good morning, Mr Orlov,” Dylan said, forcing himself to be professional.
Orlov stood and thrust out his hand. “Dylan, hello. Apparently last night you gave my friend Mikhail here a little bump on the head, yes?”
Dylan shook Orlov’s hand, trying to win the ‘who can squeeze the hardest’ game. He glanced up at the young wiry bodyguard who’d been far too close for comfort last night. “He was holding a knife to my throat. I had no choice but to fight back.”
“Yes, luckily your wife was there to save you.”
Dylan raised an eyebrow. What was he implying by that comment? That Dylan wasn’t man enough to take care of himself?
“Well, maybe you should think twice before sending someone to kick the shit outta me.”
Orlov shrugged. “I thought you were screwing my wife. I couldn’t let that slide.”
“Well, I wasn’t. And I gotta tell you, sending over a knife-wielding maniac isn’t how we resolve things in America.”
“You are not in America.”
“I don’t think it’s how Brits do things either. I think they prefer to get round a table and discuss it over tea.”
Orlov shook his head in contempt. “Spineless.”
Dylan let this jibe fizzle in the air. He threw Orlov a plastic smile. “Shall we go through to the boardroom?”
“For sure.”
“Will your bodyguards be joining us?”
“No. They will stay here.”
Dylan led Orlov through to the uninspiring Grafton Techs boardroom, where Amy and Adam were already discussing the deal. Dylan paused to introduce everyone.