Her Perfect Revenge (13 page)

Christina looked at her watch. 7:30 a.m. So, lover boy had probably only had about three hours sleep so far, had he? That was enough.

She was standing outside his bedroom door, dressed and ready for her day. And he, lazy bum that he was, was probably in there, sleeping. From what she'd gleaned from the staff at breakfast, Bill would probably sleep until noon before getting up. He apparently always came home very late and slept all morning. Well not today! She'd make sure of that.

Christina knocked on his door and waited for an answer.

Nothing.

She knocked again.

Silence.

Gingerly, she tried the doorknob and it turned. Should she go in? Why the hell not? She was supposed to be his fiancée anyway, in case anybody saw her.

She pushed the door open.

There he was—in bed, sprawled on his back, naked to the waist with the top sheet covering his lower half—and in a very deep sleep. Christina stomped in and shut the door.

Furious, she studied him. Look at how relaxed he looked, that bastard, she thought to herself. He must have had a good night while she had had to endure hours of torturous questioning by his relentless father. Christina's anger went up another notch.

"Bill? Bill Havenwood?" Christina loudly gritted through her teeth.

There was no response. He was, obviously, in a very deep sleep—a drunken deep sleep, no doubt. And look at how good he looked—with his hair ruffled like that and his naked muscular chest rising and falling ever so gently as he softly breathed in and out.

Christina approached the bed and peered into his handsome face. He looked so rested—probably from all the cheap sex he'd had last night with that Stephie. Christina's anger suddenly went through the roof.

"Hey! You!" She poked his chest with a hard finger. "Wake up!"

Bill made a soft moaning sound but didn't awaken.

Christina was seeing red—and green—with fleeting thoughts of him and Stephie together, in each other's arms while she'd been trying to save him from his inquisitive father.

She looked around his chocolate brown room. On a tall pedestal by the window, sat an ornately decorated Oriental vase. It looked expensive and perfectly suited for what she had in mind. Crossing the room, she picked it up and took it to Bill's private bathroom. She filled it up with water and carried it back to the bed.

Then—with one good swing—Christina suddenly launched all the water in it at Bill's sleeping form. Whoosh!

The water landed on his face, on his chest, on his bed. With a startled gasp, Bill bolted upright.

"What… the… fuck!" he yelled as, dazed, he looked around the room trying to get his bearings. Water dripped from his face and chest, and his hair was plastered to his head. A water stain was slowly creeping outwards on his top sheet, soaking the bed even further.

Breathing heavily, his eyes focused on Christina who was standing in front of him holding his treasured Ming Vase.

She threw the expensive item at his chest and he anxiously caught it with both hands.

"This is your piss pot, I believe," she enunciated through gritted teeth.

Bill was stunned. "What… is going on here?" he yelled at her.

With hands on her hips, Christina yelled back, "Next time you want to party all night, leave word with me so that I can make arrangements not to be here all alone stuck with your father and having to make excuses for your sorry ass."

Bill wiped the water from his face. "What are you talking about?"

"Last night was my first night here in this godforsaken gilded cage and you left me all alone to deal with your overbearing father. Do you know how many questions I had to answer at dinner?" Christina began to parrot William's questioning. "How many children do you want? When do you want to get married? What do you mean you don't know where your fiancé is? That's strange. Why don't you know?" She re-focused her angry eyes back to Bill's wet face. "I went through hell last night having to answer for you to your goddamn family and you didn't even bother to call me to let me know you weren't going to show up!"

Bill looked at her furious face. She was steaming mad and her fury was being hurled at him in full force. Boy, did she look hot!

He took a deep breath. "Christina, I did call you. I left a message on your answering machine at your apartment."

"Well, I didn't get it." Still livid, Christina crossed her arms in front of her. "Yesterday was very hectic for me having to pack and move to this billionaire hellhole."

"Look, I'm sorry. I said on the message that I wouldn't be here and for you not to have dinner with my father, to plead a headache or something and I would square things with him today."

Christina studied his pleading face. Was he telling her the truth? Had he left her the message? Some of the steam went out of Christina but she was still angry with him.

Bill sensed the indecision in her and he quickly threw the sheet off and jumped up from the wet bed. Wearing only a pair of boxers, he stood in front of her still cradling the expensive vase in his arms.

"I'm sorry but I'll make sure that from now on you'll know when I'm going to be late so that we can co-ordinate our stories for my old man, okay?" He held out his hand to her as if he wanted to shake on the deal but she ignored it.

"Don't let it happen again," she decreed highhandedly.

Bill gave her a slight smile of admiration. She really did look cute when she was trying to be bossy.

"Did you get my present?" he questioned.

"What present?"

"Samson."

"Samson? You left me Samson?" Christina was floored. She thought William had left the little goldfish.

Bill nodded. "I know we're all strangers to you here, and I wanted you to have at least one friend in this house that you could trust completely."

Christina's mouth actually fell open. She quickly shut it. That was just about the nicest, sweetest, most thoughtful thing anybody had ever done for her—and it had been Bill Havenwood who'd done it!

He wasn't supposed to be like that. He was a selfish, drunken, party boy who stepped over people for kicks. He was her enemy and he had no right to be nice. No right at all!

She looked into his smiling eyes. "You… you… asshole!" she yelled at him before storming out the door.

Now it was Bill's mouth to gape open in shock. What had he said?

* * *

Christina marched down the huge staircase, still fuming to herself. As she reached the bottom, she spotted the day's mail on the foyer table. Picking up the pile, Christina rifled through the stack. Junk mail, bills, letters and—there it was—her blackmail letter to Bill Havenwood. Christina smiled to herself. The real games were now about to begin.

An hour later, Christina was walking the estate grounds, I talking to Jenny on her cell phone.

"Oh Jenny," she giggled, "When she slapped him in front of the whole restaurant, it was… magical."

Jenny was at work at Streetwise; and she was giggling too. "I'm sure he deserved it."

"He did, the cad." Christina confirmed. "Anyway, I'm coming into the city tonight, so let's have dinner."

"Great, come by for some mac and cheese. Bet you can't get that at the Havenwood's."

Christina laughed again, "I'll be there."

* * *

Bill had been watching her from his upstairs bedroom window.

He had showered and dressed, but was still very tired from his late night. He usually slept until noon on the nights he was busy with GME meetings like last night but this morning he'd found it difficult going back to sleep, considering he'd had a pot of water thrown on him.

He smiled at the thought of it. Wow, had she ever been angry with him but his domineering father did have that effect on people and if you weren't used to it, as he was, then you could find it overwhelming.

Bill watched her walk the grounds, laughing as she talked on her cell phone. God, she looked beautiful—like an angel—and mesmerized, he couldn't take his eyes off of her.

But who the hell was she talking to? Was it her boyfriend?

Was it one of her 'relationships'? Bill was suddenly in a fit to find out.

* * *

Bill reached the bottom of the stairs just as Christina was coming back inside the house.

She defiantly looked at him, "I'm not apologizing, you know."

"Didn't ask you to but you could thank me," he parried.

Christina was aghast. "For what?"

"For Samson."

Christina eyed Bill with disdain. So, 'Samson' had been a thoughtful gesture, so what? Probably part of his plan to keep her in line in their devious scheme. No—she'd never thank him—for anything.

Christina shifted her eyes from his face to the foyer table. "Is this today's mail?" She innocently picked up the stack. "Hope you don't mind but I'm having my mail forwarded here."

"Why would I mind?"

She began to rifle through the pile and Bill watched her with hungry eyes—the eyes of someone who can see what they want right in front of them but can't quite have it.

"I saw you talking on your cell outside. Was it your boyfriend?" Bill blurted out, as if he couldn't help himself.

Christina looked up from the letters. "My boyfriend? Why do you think it was my boyfriend?"

Bill experienced what felt like a punch in the gut. So she did have a boyfriend! "Just a hunch," he tried to sound casual but failed miserably.

"Well, I don't ask you about your special friends so you don't ask about mine, okay?"

Bill wasn't going to be put off that easily. He'd ask again tonight. "I've rescheduled some appointments so I'll be home for dinner tonight. You won't have to put up with my father alone."

"Sorry but I've got plans."

"With your boyfriend?" Bill accused.

God, he was beginning to sound pathetic even to his own ears, like some jealous high school geek who was being rejected by the most popular girl in class. That had never happened to him in his entire life—ever!

"Are you going to answer me?" he pressed on, when Christina didn't answer. High school geek be damned, he just had to know.

Christina gave him an enigmatic Mona Lisa smile—neither confirming nor denying. She lowered her eyes back to the mail. "Here's one for you." She casually handed him her 'blackmail letter' and went back to rifling through the mail.

With his mind on her 'boyfriend', he absentmindedly ripped the envelope open and then—froze. In his hands, was a letter with the words "Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire" pasted on it with letters cut out of a magazine. He blanched and quickly scanned the envelope for a return address. There was none.

Who'd sent this? And what did they want? Money, obviously. This was an extortion letter but who'd done this? Did they know about his phony engagement scam or worse… did they know about his involvement with The Guardians of Mother Earth?

Christina saw the color drain out of his face. "Anything wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," she asked as if she cared.

With worried eyes, Bill looked at her. "No, everything's fine." He quickly stuffed the letter into his jacket.

Bingo!

And that's when Christina knew for sure that he had more secrets than their phony love match. If the only secret Bill had was their engagement scheme, he would have shown her the letter and they would have compared notes on who could have sent it.

But he hadn't. He had acted guilty and hidden the letter away from her. And that meant that "Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire" had been telling many lies about many different things—and he just didn't know which 'lies' the blackmail letter was referring to it. Now all Christina had to do was find out what they were.

At that moment, Bentley, the head butler, approached the couple and handed Bill a portable phone. "Telephone for you, sir. It's Mr. Havenwood."

"Thank you, Bentley." Bill took the phone and mumbled "Hello, dad" into the receiver. He paused to listen to what his father had to say and then exclaimed in a frustrated voice, "No… I wasn't still sleeping! I've been up for awhile."

Cristina couldn't help giggling. William certainly knew his son well. She refocused on the one-sided conversation she was hearing.

"Okay, I'll ask her." Bill paused. "All right then, we'll be there!" exasperated, he shouted into the phone. Hanging up, he turned to Christina. "My father wants to see us in his office this afternoon."

"What about?"

Bill shrugged his shoulders, "Wouldn't say but we'll find out what that devious swine is up to. I'll pick you up at 1."

"No thanks. I'll meet you there myself. Your father said I could have the use of the BMW. Wasn't that thoughtful of him?"

"Yes, he's so lovable," Bill sarcastically chimed in.

The private elevator was whisking Christina to the top inner sanctum of the Fido Foods office building. When she'd arrived ten minutes ago, she had had to cross the GME picket line outside the building where other media had been filming the spectacle too.

Teddy, the GME protester she'd spoken to last week, recognized her and yelled out, "Hey, honey, you haven't crossed over to the dark side, have you?"

"I don't take sides, Teddy. I only photograph the truth," Christina shouted back.

"Well, come back and photograph this… my salute to those greedy Havenwood bastards." He threw his middle finger up in the air, indicating a "screw-you" type of gesture. The other protesters followed suit.

Christina laughed, "I'll come back with my camera, I promise."

Teddy yelled, "Yeah, all right," and threw a victorious clenched fist up in the air.

Christina had then entered the glass and steel building, been cleared through security and had been ushered by a guard to William's private elevator.

As the elevator doors opened into William's private offices, Christina felt like she was entering the Holy of Holies. She'd been greeted by Charlotte, William's private secretary and had been invited to take a seat on the opulent couch. 'It would only be a moment', she'd been told, 'would she like some coffee or tea?' Christina shook her head no and thanked Charlotte.

Sitting on the plush sofa, Christina was now able to take a better look at her lavish surroundings. Everything about the place screamed taste and money—lots and lots of money.

The elevator doors opened again and Bill walked out, gorgeous and debonair as usual. The bastard didn't have a hair out of place. Christina stood up as he made a beeline for her.

He smiled. "You look lovely, darling." He secretly rolled his eyes indicating that Charlotte was watching and began to bend down as if to give her a kiss.

Not bloody likely, Christina thought to herself, as she put a restraining hand on his arm. Kissing for his father's sake was one thing but kissing for everybody else? No way in hell!

"Sweetheart, I think I'm catching a cold. Don't get too close or you'll… get it… too," she emphasized the words 'get it' as if to warn him of the consequences of foisting himself on her.

He understood the message and backed off. "I'll have to take better care of you, honey bunch," he teased before turning to the secretary. "Is he ready for us, Charlotte?"

"Yes, sir. Go right in," she replied, as she watched the couple closely.

Bill knocked on William's door and on hearing his father say, "Come in," he took Christina's elbow and ushered her in.

William was sitting behind his ornate desk and there was a woman of about fifty seated opposite him on one of the wingback chairs. They both rose.

"Mindy, this is my son Bill and his beautiful fiancée, Christina Matteo soon to be a Havenwood," he announced proudly.

They all shook hands.

William continued, "Bill, Christina… this is Mindy Soames." He paused for effect. "Your wedding planner."

Both Bill and Christina swiveled shocked eyes at him.

"Our… what?" Christina stammered.

William came around the desk and put a fatherly arm on Christina's shoulders as he led her to a couch.

"Mindy is going to help you plan your wedding, Christina, my love." He pushed a stunned Christina down before taking a seat himself.

Bill began to protest, "But dad…"

"Sit," he ordered Bill as he pointed to a chair opposite the couch. Bill did as he was told.

Mindy, carrying a folder of papers, took the other chair beside Bill's and began her presentation. "Now Miss Matteo… may I call you Christina by the way?" Bewildered, Cristina nodded her consent. Mindy began to read off of a notepad. "St. Patrick's has been booked for six weeks from this Saturday as has the country club. The couture house of Baldora has been advised and they're waiting for your arrival. The flowers…"

"Excuse me, but…what are you talking about?" Christina had finally come out of her stupor.

"Your wedding arrangements," Mindy clarified.

"My… what?"

William jumped in, "Your wedding, Christina. It's all been arranged—the church, the reception, your dress. All that's left is that you need to decide your menu, the invitations have to be chosen and your bridesmaids, and oh…" he snapped his fingers as if remembering something, "Mindy needs your guest list from your side of the family and you'll have to be registered and choose your china pattern and your honeymoon destination…"

"And the flowers, Mr. Havenwood, for the tables and the church?" Mindy chimed in.

"Of course," William agreed. "You and Christina will decide all that together."

"But dad, Christina and I are getting married next year," Bill piped in, as he took in Christina's angry expression.

"Oh, nonsense," William decreed.

Christina jumped in, "William, Bill and I need time to properly plan everything…"

"Oh, pooh," William gleefully announced, in his proper British accent. "I have money, my dear, lots of it. And money can make anything happen whenever you want it to."

"Dad, this is something Christina and I should decide ourselves," Bill firmly announced.

Suspiciously, William turned on his son. "Why don't you want to marry now? Do you and Christina love each other?"

"Of course, we love each other. What kind of question is that?" Bill's words rushed out.

William turned to Christina, "And you my dear? Do you love my son?"

The room fell silent as everyone waited for her answer.

Bill eyeballed Christina, as fear course through his veins. With one small 'no', she could walk out of this mess, and his world would blow apart.

William watched the both of them closely. What fun he was having! The church and the country club had indeed been booked and Mindy was actually a topnotch wedding planner. She knew nothing of the games all three of them were playing. Everything would proceed as if a real wedding was going to take place in six weeks time.

William knew from the copy of Bill and Christina's contract that their deal was only for one month. If this sham went on that long, they could simply call the wedding off at the end of the month and tell everyone that the happy couple had changed their minds. But he would bet all the Microsoft stock he owned that his weak, pathetic, son would crack under the pressure before then—or Christina might kill him first, if her furious face was anything to go by. William bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing.

The room was still silent. Everyone was waiting for Christina's answer. Slowly, she turned to her nincompoop fiancé and gave him a loving smile. "Of course, I love him," she gushed.

What was she going to say? She still owed him that money and her revenge plan was progressing very nicely, even though she hadn't dug up any dirt on the bastard yet. She saw Bill visibly relax.

William nodded, "Good. You'll be married in six weeks and I won't take no for an answer."

"William, I don't think…" she began but William interrupted her.

"And your engagement party will be at the house in three weeks time."

"Our… what?" Christina glared at Bill who gave her a weak smile.

William continued, "Your engagement party, dear. It's bad form if you don't have one. We'll be inviting all the right people, of course. As my future daughter-in-law, you'll be living in their world now, Christina and you will be treated with respect."

Engagement party???
Engagement party!!! She'd have to put up with that too!!!???
Suddenly, Christina's anger went into overload and she turned to Bill. "Can I speak to you for a moment—darling?" she gritted.

Bill was wary. "Of course—pumpkin pie."

The two rose and walked out of the massive office and into Charlotte's outer office. The secretary was nowhere to be seen. Bill closed his father's office door, separating them from a perplexed Mindy and a satisfied-looking William.

As soon as the door shut, Christina furiously rounded on Bill. "You never said anything about wedding plans," she hissed at him.

"I had nothing to do with this."

"A few dinners with your father, you said. A couple of kisses on the cheek, you said. Only for one month, you said. Well, everything 'you said' has been wrong."

"Christina, I had no idea he was planning this, I swear it."

"I'm not going through with wedding plans. For God's sake, he's booked a church. He's set a date even, and the country club. He's talking about my dress."

"Look, everything's set for six weeks from now. In a month's time, we'll tell him we've changed our minds and the wedding's off. Until then, why don't we just humor the old man? Nothing's going to come of it."

"Are you crazy?" Christina almost screamed at him. "We can't 'pretend' plan a wedding."

"Why not?"

"Because… because it's deceitful and a big lie."

"And what have we been doing up until now?" Suddenly, Bill inched closer as if some force was pulling him to her.

Christina, immediately, felt his presence envelope her and she gazed up into those gorgeous, green eyes of his—and her voice, suddenly, softened. "Those were little lies. This one would be big."

"So? We're the only ones who'd know and I'm not telling. Are you?"

Bill gazed at her beautiful face. He was so close he could smell her musky perfume and it was lulling his brain. His problems were fading away, being replaced by his strong, primitive attraction to her. What would it be like to kiss—to really kiss those lush, rosy lips of hers? He could almost feel an electrical current attaching his lips to hers.

Christina stared back at him. She felt like she was being drugged by his aura as she too began to feel the same imaginary current pulling the both of them together. A small censor in her brain began to warn her that what she was experiencing was crazy and dangerous, and not part of her plan but she couldn't quite remember what that plan was. All she could think of was 'him' and what it would be like to give into that pull that was drawing her like a magnet to his lips.

Christina tried to break free of the spell he was weaving. "I… I…your father wants… a party…"

Bill's eyes devoured her, as he absentmindedly answered, "He does?"

"Yes…three… three weeks time…" she stammered but she was in a fog and he was hypnotizing her with his essence. Instinctively, she took a step closer to him.

Suddenly, the door from William's office opened and they both heard William shouting, "What are you two doing out there?" as he came out to see.

And in the split second that it took William to come out of his office, Bill made his move. Not able to resist the physical attraction he felt for her any longer, he grabbed Christina by the arms, pulled her against his chest and began to kiss her with abandon.

Surprised, Christina moaned a small protest before giving in to her passion too. In that moment, she didn't know anymore who she was and she certainly didn't know who he was. The kiss deepened as his hands began to travel slowly down her body and around her back. They lowered even still to cup her derriere and draw her closer—into him.

Responding to him, her hands crept up his chest and wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him closer—into her. They were both on fire and on autopilot, no longer thinking, no longer in control. Like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, they had locked into place. It was right. It was safe. It was home.

From someplace far away, they heard William giggle, "Excuse me" before retreating back into his office. As he closed his door shut, it made a 'click' sound and it was that sound that finally penetrated Christina's passion-drugged brain. She snapped out of her fog and suddenly, the enormity of what she was doing came roaring at her like a hurricane.

She was in Bill Havenwood's arms—Bill Havenwood, for God's sake—her enemy, the man she hated most in the world, the one who had caused the most traumatic day of her teen life—and she was returning kiss for kiss, wanting more, wanting it all. With a strangled cry, she pulled out of his arms and pushed at his chest with all her might.

Just as dazed from the kiss as she was, Bill stumbled back. With all the women he'd been with, and he had to admit there had been many, he'd never felt anything like that in his whole life. Never. And it had been just a kiss, just a damn kiss! He was as confused and shocked as she was, if for very different reasons.

Both were still breathing heavily as they continued to stare at each other.

Oh God, what had she done, Christina thought to herself, as her hand came up to cover her swollen, kiss-ravaged mouth? She could still taste him on her lips.

She, Christina Matteo, had allowed this filthy swine to kiss and fondle her in the middle of a public office and she had enjoyed every hot, fiery second of it. And what was worse, she had kissed him back. In those moments, when she'd been in his arms, she had wanted nothing more than to drag him down on the couch opposite the desk and make love to him—and the consequences be damned! Christina locked her shocked eyes into Bill's.

"Say something," he pleaded, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I'm…I'm going to be sick," Christina's pallor suddenly turned gray.

Bill was a little insulted—well a lot actually. He smirked, "The kiss wasn't that bad."

"No, you don't understand. I'm really going to be sick!" Christina's hand clamped onto her mouth.

"What?"

Panicking, Christina shouted at him, "I need a bathroom now or else…"

Too late! In a flash, Christina vomited all over Bill's Armani blue suit.

Stunned beyond belief, Bill looked down at the mess on his jacket. What the hell had happened here? One minute the kiss—and the next—this? He looked back up at Christina just in time to see her eyes roll back in her head and faint dead away into his arms.