Billionaires Meet Millionaire (A Steamy Romance) Page 15

  By now Niall was a little hoarse. He looked down at Olta.

  Sometime during his monologue she had turned around. Both her arms squashed between his side and her chest. She had teary eyes but the look she gave him was soothing and consoling. It didn't surprise him. Olta had this way of calming him. That was if she wasn't making him feel like an incompetent nervous idiot.

  For a moment he wondered if his mother had had such an effect on his father. What exactly had been the difference between his father's feelings for his mother and Victoria? Their marriage had been a truly good one. Niall didn't think he was looking back on his childhood through rose coloured glasses. There was little cause for it.

  Suddenly Olta's eyes were so close that he could see the blue rim around her irises. To his amazement Niall felt her kiss him lightly on the lips while keeping her eyes locked on his. Stunned, Niall didn't react. And almost too late he noticed the glimpse of dejection in her eyes as she moved back to lie down him.

  Before Olta could reposition herself, Niall flipped them over. Pain washed through his body at this sudden movement but he ignored it. Planting his hands on either side of her upper body and hovering above it Niall looked down.

  Olta looked slightly shocked but it was mingled with sadness and his favourite mixture of knowledge and insecurity. And of course she was blushing. Niall couldn't suppress a stupid grin from breaking through. This was his girl, his Tirana, his Olta.

  So what if he was getting a little territorial.

  Again he realized that the balance of knowledge between the two of them was skewed to her advantage. She was about to know the innermost secrets of his life and here he was with little to no knowledge of hers. Since their conversation that last Sunday he, and the others, had pried but Olta had not been forthcoming. Oh sure, when it came to inconsequential superficialities or facts and fables about Holland, sorry the Albania, she was a fountain. But when it came down to it she was just like him.

  She wasn't going to get away with it though, she might stall it a little longer but then it would be her turn.

  Right now, however, it was time to enjoy the intermission.

  This time his kiss wasn't tentative, it was a possessive kiss. A kiss to make clear just how much he cherished her. Because, gods above, he was falling and he was falling hard. Maybe he was already there.

  And what a kiss it was. That first kiss hadn't been a fluke; it had only been an appetizer.

  Contrary to his previous thinking, kissing was truly an excellent way to spend the time. Niall felt he could do this forever.

  And breathing was a true spoil sport. On the other hand,a thoroughly kissed Olta was a sight to behold. Just looking at her was something Niall could do forever too.

  His arms were starting to complain about the weight and Niall gave Olta a quick peck on her lips before he lay back down. Instead of snuggling up to him, Olta turned on her side, facing Niall and resting her head on her hands. Niall matched her pose, only one of his hands somehow got busy playing with her hair. His hands really liked her hair.

  "What happened to the baby?" Olta asked softly.

  Niall sighed. Playtime was over, time to move on with the story.

  "Well, after the girl had died both the man and his wife mourned. The man's father however was almost pleased with the girl's death. He said that it was a good that it ended the way it did. Now they could give the child away, to the girl's family or to an adoptive family and none would be the wiser. The Foy name wouldn't befall anymore harm. You see, nobody knew the whole truth about the situation. They knew that the girl was a friend and some people knew of the history between the man and the girl. But nobody knew that the man was the father. It wasn't that the man hadn't wanted to tell the truth but the wife and the girl had insisted on keeping things silent. For the time being anyway. However, during their pregnancy the women and the man had discussed several possible scenarios for how to proceed after the babies were born. And when the complications arose the girl had insisted that they also worked out something in case she'd might not make it. But both the wife and the man refused to discuss the possibility of death. Now it was never a point of discussion for the man that he would acknowledge the baby. It was his after all. The wife decided that the only sensible course of action would be for her to adopt the child. Against the express wishes of the grandfather they did just that. The wife and the man accepted, loved and cared for both boys, never making a difference between the two. And they lived happily ever after. The end."

  Niall said, smiling wryly. If only that had been the truth.

  Olta raised her eyebrows at him but said nothing. Instead, she gave him another soft kiss. If this was her way of comforting him, well then she could just comfort away.

  "Now tell me the epilogue to this tale of sadness." Niall quirked an eyebrow at Olta's phrasing. Wasn't it Bart Simpson who had said something like that?

  But true, it was a sad tale and there was no happily ever after.

  "Right, okay. Now I've never told anybody about most of this, just like nobody knows the truth of the situation. Even Peter, Bailey have only heard bits and pieces and they were around for most of it. So just bear with me, okay?" Olta nodded.

  "Right, well Daniel could never deal with having to share Victoria's and father's or anybody's attention for that matter. Matilda told me once that when he was about six months he started to notice that I was around as well. As soon as anybody would give attention to me he'd start wailing. Eventually even going as far as to get angry at someone who had been giving me attention. Now, after a couple of months they all wised up to this so it didn't work anymore. But Daniel quickly adapted and became more manipulative in his tactics to get attention and more importantly to make sure I got less. And he was good at it. He would use different tactics. And not all of them were to my disadvantage. Sometimes he'd make deals with me. For instance I could play with some of his favourite toys if I gave up on a bed time story. But even as toddlers and in kindergarten he would occasionally use violence against me. Well I don't remember as toddlers but I do have early memories of a violent Daniel. Actually I've a lot of those, period."

  Niall let out a humourless laugh.

  "Anyway, We didn't know any better. It wasn't until one time in class that because of some stupid reason Daniel got angry with me. In front the entire class he called me a bastard for the first time. You know what it means, right?" Olta nodded.

  "Same word in Dutch. Except for an extra a. So he meant that literally then?"

  "What?" Niall asked, unsure for a moment what Olta was referring to. Right, of course, it had been tossed around during the last dance.

  "Oh yes, it's his favourite. He likes to rub it in. But at the time I didn't have a clue what he was on about. The teacher did, of course, but she thought he was just calling me names. So she scolded Daniel and he yelled that Mommy wasn't my mommy and that grandfather had told him so. I felt like the whole world had just been pulled from its axes."

  Niall paused again. It still hurt. It had been the first time Daniel had spoken with that now trademark spite and evil glint in his eyes.

  "The teacher informed Victoria and father of the incident and that night Victoria came to my room and explained the story as best she could. It was the first time she told me the story, albeit a much simpler version. She made it very clear that she loved me very much and that nothing would ever change that and that she would always be my mother."

  Niall breathed deeply and Olta gave him a soft smile.

  "But Daniel had other ideas. He told me I couldn't call Victoria mommy anymore. I, of course, didn't care for it. Even though I had gotten curious about my real mother, Victoria was still my mommy. So I didn't stop. Daniel was stupid enough to throw a tantrum about it in front of father one time. I have never, to this day, seen my father that angry. It shocked Daniel into obedience for a couple of months. He didn't even dare threaten me about it behind their backs."

  Niall briefly chuckled at the memory of Daniel's
ashy white face after their father was done.

  "However, things weren't meant to last. By the time we were in second grade Daniel had decided that Victoria and the Foy legacy were rightfully his. That last part wasn't his own idea. Our beloved grandfather, who still lived in a secluded part of the house doted on Daniel but despised me, he simply denied my existence. Daniel adored his grandfather and I've no doubt that's where his ideas on family pride and honour come from. Simply because I know father loathes the whole concept. He's a bit hypocritical about it, though, but that's beside the point. Anyways where was I?"

  Niall tried to refocus. He noticed he was getting tired and his throat was slightly parched. But he was getting to the end and he wanted it over with. Dragging out this painful trip down memory lane really wasn't fun anymore. He felt his eyes tear up. Now that was one thing he was not going to do. Telling her pretty much everything, okay, but crying in front of Olta wasn't on his to do list. Ever.

  "Right, so Daniel became obsessed with this idea of doing the family name proud and keeping me away from Victoria. Victoria became an issue we fought over, again and again. She wasn't my mother. I'm nothing but a bastard son who never was entitled to her love and affection or worthy of the Niall’s name. Shit like that. And slowly but surely it became a ritual. By the time we were ten we would get into a fight about every month and every month we would get in trouble at home over it. We'd both keep our mouths shut about it. Daniel because he didn't want a repeat of father's anger and I well,didn't want hurt Victoria's feelings.

  Daniel would use an assortment of more, shall we say subversive techniques to get me so riled up that I would actually fight him. But to the parents we became two unruly brothers who just didn't get along. Finally father flat out forbade any violence between us. That of course didn't stop us. We simply started to avoid doing visible damage. Then Victoria got sick and died. Daniel blames me for it. I don't know why. All I know is that ever since he finds reasons, however small or insignificant, which will let him take his anger out on me by any means possible. And guess what, I hate him for it."

  Niall gave Olta another wry smile. He felt a couple of tears running down his cheek. Fuck, why couldn't things just go his way. Just this once.

  Olta shuffled closer to him and kissed him softly. But she wasn't kissing his lips. She was kissing his tears away. That felt pretty good actually. Maybe breaking down in front of his Tirana wasn't so bad after all.

  He let Olta placate him with another couple of kisses before pulled her into a fervent kiss. God, he could really get used to this. It even took him a couple of moments to realize that tears were still running down his face.

  He drew back quickly to wipe the tears from his face.

  "That picture in your bedroom, is it.." Olta asked in a shaky voice, wiping away a missed tear from his cheek.

  Niall knew instantly which picture she was talking about. He only had the one. Niall nodded with Olta's hand still on his cheek.

  "They were beautiful."

  Niall smiled sadly and leant down to kiss Olta's forehead.

  "That they were." Niall said before kissing Olta's cheek. He slipped his arm underneath her so he could pull her closer.

  "Do you miss her?" Olta seemed unperturbed by his latest move. She caressed his cheek lightly.

  "Yes, I do. Just like Daniel does." Olta nodded and Niall knew she had caught his meaning. Daniel might be a sick psycho but he had loved his mother very much. It was the only reason Niall had some understanding for him.

  "What happened to your grandfather?"

  Olta hand moved to his hair before she withdrew it.

  "Oh, he died a year after Victoria. Cardiac arrest." Niall kissed Olta lightly on the lips and drew back again.

  "Tirana, you're asking far too many questions. I just told you everything and you still have questions?" Niall said with mock sternness as he tapped her nose lightly.

  "Oh but I have. But I'm just full of questions; you know being the studious kind and all." Olta said playfully but then she turned serious.

  "Thank you for telling me." Niall heard in her voice and saw the sincerity in her eyes.

  "Thanks for listening." Niall said in all seriousness before returning to his mock sternness.

  "Now I appreciate that you've been such an attentive audience but now it's your turn Tirana. Time to give up some give up something substantial."

  Niall realized too late the double entendre in his last words. He expected Olta to look up at him with mock resentment or maybe true indignation but she was still serious. She hadn't picked up on it. Good.

  "True, I do owe you a story myself. But not tonight, alright? I think we've had enough for one night." Niall was surprised by the solemn tone in Olta's voice. This didn't bode well for the story she was going to tell him. No of course it doesn't, you stupid ass, Niall screamed at himself silently, her father died not too long ago.

  Outwardly Niall only nodded.

  "I didn't mean tonight. I think we're done for tonight. What time is it anyway?" Niall said trying to suppress a yawn.

  "It's six thirty. My mother won't be home for another hour. We could go downstairs and get something to drink and to eat. Maybe put a movie in. What do you think?" Olta said as she too tried to not yawn.

  They smiled sheepishly at each other.

  "That might not be such a bad idea. But first I'd like to steal another kiss from my girl."

  Niall drew Olta's face closer to him and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips. Closing his eyes he murmured against her lips.

  "You are my girl, aren't you, Tirana?"

  The silence was killing him.

  "Yes, Niall, I do believe I am."

  Niall could feel her smile against his lips and he kissed her again. Passionately, urgently and possessively.

  Life was wonderful.

  EXPERT FROM MILLIONAIRE PICKS BILLIONAIRES

  (THE SEQUEL)

  Chapter One

  Life was wonderful. Absolutely, undeniably, marvellously so. As was Niall, by the way. Niall was even better than life. Because Niall had told her he liked her. Liked her like he had never liked a girl before.

  Olta hoped that he'd be on his medication a little while longer, because she was sure that was what had made him say it.

  Because a drug-induced altered state of mind had to be the cause for Niallbehaviour. They had lowered his defenses and had made him more affectionate. It was perfectly acceptable explanation.

  Not that Olta was complaining, Lord no. Last night would be a moment she knew she'd always treasure. The way he had opened up to her and the way that he had touched, looked and held her. Like she was truly someone special.

  But she had to be realistic and face the fact that Niall current affectionate state wouldn't last long. Sooner or later he was to come back to himself and realize just who he had been lavishing his affections on. Until then, however, Olta was going to savor every single moment of it.

  Because Niall' hands on her hips and his peppered kisses everywhere on her face, well that was something she could get used to and it made her forget all her worries. It made her forget everything.

  Olta had always discarded stories about kissing and electricity and fireworks. Her experiences so far were more along the lines of repulsion and disgust. But after Niall she had to admit that she had been wrong. God, even the slightest touch of his finger caused her body to tingle, let alone his the way his lips and tongue made her feel.