A Past Revenge (9 page)

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Authors: Carole Mortimer

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General

BOOK: A Past Revenge
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He had done that the moment he arrived; she
should never have invited him in. 'Perhaps after
you've drunk your coffee . . .? I don't wish to seem
rude—'

'But you're going to be anyway,' he grinned good naturedly, taking the coffee and swallowing it in one gulp even though it must have been very hot. 'Thank you for dinner, Danielle, I enjoyed it.'

Her own enthusiasm for their time spent together was noticeably absent. But she couldn't help it, couldn't lie even for politeness' sake. She wanted him out of here, and as quickly as possible, the last couple of hours a complete strain to her, even if they had passed quite quickly.

'Walk me to the door,' he quirked his brows encouragingly.

'It's just across the room,' she said dryly.

'Humour me, hm?' his eyes were a warm compelling grey.

With a rueful shrug she followed him over to the door, unprepared for the way his head bent and he claimed her mouth in a piercingly intense kiss. She had been out with several men since that night with Nick, had even enjoyed their kisses, but none of them had ever affected her as deeply, or spontaneously, as Nick was doing now.

He stepped back, no triumph in his eyes at the response he must have known he evoked, just a warm glow in the often cruelly assessing eyes. 'Don't work too hard,' he touched her cheek with gentle fingertips.

'Work ...? Oh—oh yes.' She knew she wouldn't be able to work tonight, not now. 'I mean no!'

Nick smiled at her total confusion. 'I'll come round and see you tomorrow.'

'No!'

'Yes,' he insisted softly, his steely gaze compelling her to agree.

She turned away. 'I work during the day—'

'So do I now,' he drawled mockingly, smiling as
her eyes widened in surprise. 'I decided to take
notice of your advice—'

'My advice?' she echoed in an astounded voice, unable to remember ever advising this man about
anything.

He nodded, enjoying her confusion. 'Just over a
week ago you pointed out that I'm bored with my
life—'

'Only because you pushed me into saying it!' she defended indignantly.

 

'Why you said it isn't important,' he dismissed. 'That fact that you did, and that it's the truth, is. As of tomorrow I've decided to be more than just a figurehead to my little empire, to take back the reins of power that I gave up several years ago,' the last came out grimly.

'I'm sure the business world is quaking in its shoes,' she said dryly, remembering how ruthless her father had said he found Nick to deal with in the past.

His mouth quirked. 'Not quite yet,' he drawled. 'But they will be,' he predicted.

She could believe that, although it was a little difficult to believe a scathing remark she had made had effected this change in him. And she said so.

Nick shrugged. 'The move has been coming about for some time. Being rich and idle is boring, in fact just being idle is, no matter how much money you have or don't have. The fact that you don't like my lifestyle did come into it, though. You've made your contempt for my image obvious, so I'm cleaning it up.*

'I
doubt it will make any difference to me,' she told him honestly, shaking her head.

'Maybe not,' he accepted. 'But having a purpose in life again
will
make a difference to me. Cheer up, Danielle,' he mocked her frowning expression. 'You've done me a favour even if you won't go out with me.'

For the first time she realised that he was different today, that the bitterness she had known in him in the past, the cynical derision about everyone and everything that she had come to expect from him, were no longer there, that they had been replaced with a lighter, less grim Nick, one who no longer ordered with that familiar arrogance, but cajoled and teased instead. She wasn't sure she was up to handling this new
Mick,
didn't completely understand him. It also made it difficult for her to continue hating him when he was no longer the cold man of the past.

'Why give it all up in the first place if you're looking forward to returning to it so much?' she asked stiltedly.

His mouth thinned. 'I had my reasons at the
time. But they seem less important now,' he
shrugged off those reasons. 'I'm not sure what
time I'll get here tomorrow—
'

'I'd rather you—'

'Didn't come at all,' he finished softly. 'I know. But tonight wasn't so bad, was it?'

Besides the fact that she found being alone with him like this unnerving, the evening had been quite a pleasant one. And that was what she was afraid of!

'If you won't go out with me then I'll stay in with you,' he didn't wait for her reply. 'And tomorrow I'll bring the food and the wine.'

'But—
'

'Now don't get in a panic, Danielle,' he mocked. 'It's only a meal and a chat, like tonight. I'll see you tomorrow,' he touched her cheek once more before leaving.

Danielle was left feeling as if she had been hit by a car travelling at high speed; as if she had been bulldozed down in its path! She had been wrong about Nick, the arrogance was still very much there, although heavily concealed by the sudden charm.

What she was going to do about him she didn't know, he still wouldn't take no for an answer!

The article and photograph of them together the next morning in the newspaper made her wish more than ever that he weren't coming back to her apartment tonight. The photograph was very deceptive, making it look as if she were in Nick's arms instead of being protected from the photographer by him, her face buried against his chest. They had the look of two lovers who couldn't stop touching each other!

And the article written with it was even more damning, stating that Nick had arrived in the early hours of the morning and that the photograph showed the two of them leaving together the next day. This was exactly the sort of innuendo and suggestion this newspaper specialised in, lying by omission. If the reporter had seen Nick arrive at her apartment at two o'clock in the morning then he must also have seen him leave again a few minutes later, as he must have seen him arrive again shortly before ten. The article implied they had spent the evening and night together. And as Nick had predicted, his efforts to get the story stopped had only added to their speculation of how serious the relationship was.

It was exactly the fuel Audra McDonald needed to reveal her vindictive secret. And Danielle had a feeling she would do so very shortly.

She went to the onyx jewellery box, taking out the miniature to hold it to her protectively.

 

 

 

..

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

By
the time Nick arrived at seven that evening Danielle had experienced one of the worst days of her life. Several more reporters had tried to get in to talk to her, although she had refused to comment to any of them, slamming the door in the face of the reporter she recognised from yesterday before he even had time to say anything. Her father had telephoned to make sure she was all right, and although he didn't question her about the previous night she told him the true version anyway. And lastly, and worst of all, she hadn't been able to contact Audra McDonald.

 

She had telephoned the theatre where the actress was rehearsing for her play, had called her home too, and the reply as always the same, Miss McDonald was unavailable. She had even left a message for the other woman to call
her.
The return call had never come.

Nick frowned as he saw how pale she looked, putting the two bags of food that he carried in the kitchen before coming back to study her closely. 'That bad, hm?' he murmured regretfully.

She blinked darkened lashes over shadowed green eyes, hadn't made any effort to change out of the fitted denims and cream camisole top she had worn all day. 'Sorry?'

'You've had a lousy day,' he stated with a sigh, clasping her arms to sit her down in one of the armchairs. 'The press have been hounding you?' he looked down at her with narrowed eyes.

He spoke like one who knew what it felt like. 'They came to see you too?'

 

'They tried,' his mouth twisted. 'I have a little more protection from such people than you do.'

She looked down at her hands, clean of the paint today that usually spotted them, too disturbed to work today, especially on Audra's portrait. 'You saw the article they wrote?'

'Yes,' he grimaced his distaste for such trashy writing. 'It was worse than even I imagined.'

'Yes,' Danielle acknowledged dully.

'I've also seen Audra,' his eyes were hard as he spoke of the other woman.

Danielle's panicked gaze flew to his harsh face, swallowing hard as she saw there was no accusation in his eyes for her, only anger at the other woman. Audra couldn't have told him, not yet anyway.
'I
tried to reach her on the telephone today,' she revealed flatly. 'She refused to talk to me.'

His mouth twisted with grim humour. 'When you're her backer you tend to get better results.'

'What did she say?'

'What could she say?' he shrugged, pacing the room, the brown trousers moulded to his thighs and legs, the cream of his shirt emphasising the swarthiness of his skin. 'She set that particular hound on us, she couldn't and didn't, deny that.'

But it seemed that Audra hadn't told him a lot else. What was the actress waiting for? Was she delaying telling Nick about her?

'She won't do that again,' he added harshly. 'Not if she wants to continue in this play.'

Danielle moistened suddenly dry lips. 'You— threa-tened her?'

'I warned her,' he amended hardly.

It amounted to the same thing, and she knew the other woman wouldn't have liked that one little bit. God, Danielle felt ill at what the actress could do to her, wanted to hide herself away until it was all over. But Nick had other ideas!

'I'll go and make our dinner while you sip a glass of wine,' he decided.

'I don't—'

'Forget about Audra's vindictiveness, Danielle,' he instructed from the kitchen doorway. 'She's vented her spite on me now, there's nothing else she can do.'

If only that were true! Danielle obediently sipped the wine he brought her a few seconds later, could hear him moving about her kitchen preparing their meal, too numb to stop him, realising as she smelt the food cooking that she was hungry, having forgotten to eat all day.

There was a thick soup to start accompanied by French bread, followed by a tasty meat dish that Nick assured her was his mother's secret recipe. 'She only confided it to people she really liked,' he added softly. 'I have a feeling she would have liked you, Danielle.'

Colour entered her cheeks at his blatant flirting with her. 'She's dead?' Danielle felt a little more relaxed after the delicious meal he had prepared for her, although she was still pale.

Nick nodded. 'Several years ago. My father too. Let's take our coffee through to the lounge and talk there,' he suggested softly. 'Unless you want some more food?' he indicated the cheese neither of them had touched.

'No, thank you,' she followed him through to the other room, sipping the strong coffee he had made them. 'Were you close to your parents?'

'Very,' he nodded.

'I suppose being the only boy they expected a lot from you,' she nodded.

His gaze sharpened. 'What do you mean?'

She looked taken aback by his sudden abruptness after the lazy charm he had displayed throughout the meal. 'Only that your career as head of the Andracas empire must have been a foregone conclusion,' she explained in a puzzled voice.

'Oh. I see,' he bit out. 'Yes,
I
suppose it was,' he visibly relaxed. 'But I never resented it.'

'Not many people would,' she mocked.

He gave a slight smile.
'I
enjoyed walking in there today, especially seeing the expressions on the faces of my directors when they realised I wasn't just making my usual fleeting visit,' he added with relish. 'They all began to look guilty of something even though they weren't.'

'Maybe they are,' she taunted. 'Maybe they've all been embezzling off you for years.'

'Danielle,' he spoke in a humouring tone. 'I may not have been at my office every day but I can assure you I've known exactly what was going on in my company.'

She could tell that he had too, that even the playboy image she had accused him of had been a false one, that Nick Andracas would never be taken for a fool in any capacity, no matter how he seemed to treat life as a continual playground.

'What sort of music do you like?' with another one of his lightning changes of mood he strode across the room to look at her record collection. 'Everything from Brahms to Duran Duran,' he said admiringly. 'Hm, I think we'll put this one on.'

Danielle instantly recognised the LP cover as belonging to a collection of l0c.c. love songs. 'I've appreciated your being here tonight, and making
me dinner,' she spoke quickly. 'But it's getting late
now, and '

'It's ten o'clock,' he mocked as he put the LP on the stereo before standing up. 'Even for you that has to be early.' He came across the room to sit beside her on the sofa.

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