Read Online The Billionaire's Heir: Billionaire Obsession (Tycoon Billionaires Book 4) by Julie Farrell - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julie Farrell
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reached over and grabbed the box of muesli that the housemaid always put out for her, along with a jug of milk. She loved this room – the huge windows gave sweeping views of the entire ranch on three sides, and the high ceilings were decorated with oak beams – giving it a farmhouse feel. Every morning she sat here contemplating how lucky she was… but today she just wanted to get her passport and leave. She’d always been a bit of a rebel back in Iran, and she’d hoped America would allow her to be free – to express herself. But on this ranch she felt trapped and stifled. Mr. Langdon had offered her salvation, but he’d clipped her wings.
All she wanted was Ivan. He was all she’d ever wanted…
She poured the milk over her muesli, hoping to warm Langdon’s chilly mood with some small talk. “Oh, here’s a strange thing. Yesterday I was standing by the creek near the servants’ cottages, and the bank suddenly gave way. It was so odd… it felt as if someone had loosened it. No one’s been doing any work there, have they?”
He rustled his newspaper. “What were you doing at the creek by the servants’ cottages?”
“Just riding my horse… enjoying the sunshine. I was lucky because one of the ranch hands pulled me out. I can’t swim… did you know that?”
He lowered his newspaper and gazed at her. “Yes, you’d mentioned it.”
His sinister tone sent a wave of apprehension up her spine. She opened her mouth to enquire about her passport, but he spoke over her. “So where did you go yesterday then, hmm?”
“Oh… I just had a coffee with some new guy… a ranch hand. We got chatting. Apparently he’s… we’ve got similar interests.”
Langdon raised an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to run off with a cowboy, are you? After all I’ve done for you?”
“No, of course not. I just wanted to get out of here for a while, but I couldn’t find you to check if it was okay.”
He inspected her with a blank expression. “If I find out you’ve been lying to me, I’ll be very upset. Now I’ll ask you again – have you got friends or family in America?”
She chuckled nervously. She hadn’t told him about her cousin Tariq because he was technically dead – just like Ivan. Had the private investigator given Langdon some information? “I’ve told you, I don’t know anyone – just the people I knew in college, but I never see them and obviously they don’t know where I am.”
He sipped his coffee. “Good.”
“But I was wondering… have you had any news from the immigration department yet? With regards to my visa application?”
“Not yet – you know what these bureaucrats are like.”
“And they actually have got my passport, right?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Well… I’d like it back.”
“Like it back? Samira, they’re in the middle of processing your application to stay here.”
“I know.” She realized she shouldn’t be too obvious about wanting her passport – in case he got suspicious. She tried to be subtle. “I wish they'd speed things up. I was thinking I might give them a call, or even drop by and talk to them about it myself. I really would like my passport back.”
Anger flashed across his face. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Sure I do, but–”
“Everything I’ve asked is simply for your own safety, Samira. Think of Quin. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, do you? Get the immigration people asking too many questions? You don’t want to be deported, do you?”
It sounded like a threat. It sounded like ‘unless you do as you’re told, I’ll tell the authorities about you.’ The thought of returning to Iran filled Samira with dread – but with any luck it wouldn’t come to that. She just needed her passport and Clara’s friend could hopefully help her stay. She swirled her spoon in her muesli, plucking up the courage to ask the next question. “Look, there’s this guy who seems to be following me whenever I leave
All she wanted was Ivan. He was all she’d ever wanted…
She poured the milk over her muesli, hoping to warm Langdon’s chilly mood with some small talk. “Oh, here’s a strange thing. Yesterday I was standing by the creek near the servants’ cottages, and the bank suddenly gave way. It was so odd… it felt as if someone had loosened it. No one’s been doing any work there, have they?”
He rustled his newspaper. “What were you doing at the creek by the servants’ cottages?”
“Just riding my horse… enjoying the sunshine. I was lucky because one of the ranch hands pulled me out. I can’t swim… did you know that?”
He lowered his newspaper and gazed at her. “Yes, you’d mentioned it.”
His sinister tone sent a wave of apprehension up her spine. She opened her mouth to enquire about her passport, but he spoke over her. “So where did you go yesterday then, hmm?”
“Oh… I just had a coffee with some new guy… a ranch hand. We got chatting. Apparently he’s… we’ve got similar interests.”
Langdon raised an eyebrow. “You’re not planning to run off with a cowboy, are you? After all I’ve done for you?”
“No, of course not. I just wanted to get out of here for a while, but I couldn’t find you to check if it was okay.”
He inspected her with a blank expression. “If I find out you’ve been lying to me, I’ll be very upset. Now I’ll ask you again – have you got friends or family in America?”
She chuckled nervously. She hadn’t told him about her cousin Tariq because he was technically dead – just like Ivan. Had the private investigator given Langdon some information? “I’ve told you, I don’t know anyone – just the people I knew in college, but I never see them and obviously they don’t know where I am.”
He sipped his coffee. “Good.”
“But I was wondering… have you had any news from the immigration department yet? With regards to my visa application?”
“Not yet – you know what these bureaucrats are like.”
“And they actually have got my passport, right?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Well… I’d like it back.”
“Like it back? Samira, they’re in the middle of processing your application to stay here.”
“I know.” She realized she shouldn’t be too obvious about wanting her passport – in case he got suspicious. She tried to be subtle. “I wish they'd speed things up. I was thinking I might give them a call, or even drop by and talk to them about it myself. I really would like my passport back.”
Anger flashed across his face. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Sure I do, but–”
“Everything I’ve asked is simply for your own safety, Samira. Think of Quin. You don’t want to draw attention to yourself, do you? Get the immigration people asking too many questions? You don’t want to be deported, do you?”
It sounded like a threat. It sounded like ‘unless you do as you’re told, I’ll tell the authorities about you.’ The thought of returning to Iran filled Samira with dread – but with any luck it wouldn’t come to that. She just needed her passport and Clara’s friend could hopefully help her stay. She swirled her spoon in her muesli, plucking up the courage to ask the next question. “Look, there’s this guy who seems to be following me whenever I leave
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