Her Perfect Revenge (20 page)

That very same morning, Christina was in the BMW driving back to the mansion when her cell rang. It was Jenny calling from the Streetwise Magazine offices.

"Chrissy, Brad ran Jake Monroe's name through the computer and found out what happened to him."

Christina sighed, already knowing what her friend was going to say. "Let me guess, drunk driving?"

Jenny sighed on the other end. "Yeah, about a year and a half ago. He was driving drunk and smashed into a tree."

"Was Bill there too?" For a split second, Christina felt her stomach turn over with fear.

"No, he was alone."

Christina sighed with relief. But why should she be relieved that Bill hadn't been there—that he hadn't played a part in his friend's accident? She pushed the feeling away.

* * *

Christina was walking through the foyer towards the staircase when Bill came out of the salon. He'd been waiting for her to come home this morning—and he was roiling, fuming, mad. He appraised her. She looked so beautiful, so rested, so relaxed. That made him madder.

"Oh, Miss Christina?" He used Eudora's pet name for her.

Christina turned and spotted Bill standing in the open salon doorway. What was he doing here? She'd thought he'd have left for the office by now, as he'd been doing all week.

They stared at each other for a blink of a second.

Bill smiled at her. "Can I see you for a moment, please?" His smile didn't reach his eyes.

Christina was suddenly wary as she sensed tension emanating from him. She walked past him into the salon and he closed the door behind them.

She turned to him. "I thought you'd left for the office by now."

"Fuck the office! Where were you last night?" Bill shouted at her through gritted teeth. He was beyond the point of social niceties, having spent all morning thinking about her and her damned boyfriend—together.

Christina was taken aback by the anger in his voice but cool as ever didn't show it. "Excuse me?"

His steely eyes were trained on her. "You heard me."

"What's this about?"

"Answer me; where were you?"

"I heard you the first time."

"Then tell me."

"I don't have to tell you anything. You're not my keeper."

Christina started to walk past him to leave but he grabbed her arm and stopped her. He pulled her to him, their faces inches apart.

"Did you sleep with him?" he angrily accused her.

Maybe he should be handling things differently—and maybe he should be calming down—and maybe he should be acting rationally—but he'd spent one hell of a night and morning imagining all kinds of crazy things about her and it was all coming out now.

When she remained silent, he asked her again, "Did you sleep with him?"

Suddenly, Christina realized that Bill was insanely jealous of her 'phony' boyfriend and thought she'd spent last night with him. So that's what this was about.

Anger shot through her system like wildfire. How dare he be angry with her when he'd been sleeping with that tramp, Stephie only days ago!

"How dare you ask me that! You have no right."

"That ring on your finger gives me a right." He still held her close and Christina began to feel the heat between them.

"We both know what this ring means. It means nothing… which is exactly what you're entitled to know about my business," she shot back at him.

His eyes bore into hers. "Let me spell out a few truths, Miss Christina. I want you; and you want me."

The words were naked and raw, and hung between them like a knife. Neither had said those words out loud before but now that they'd been said, they couldn't be retracted—or denied. Christina wanted to deny them—she tried to deny them—but couldn't. She just stood there within inches of him, with her heart beating wildly in her throat.

She gave him a half smile. "Spoiled, little, rich boys always want what they can't have." She was repeating Stephie's words.

Bill gave her a sensual smile back as he bridged the inches between them even more by pulling her closer still and whispering in her ear, "I may be spoiled… and I may be rich… but I'm no boy."

Christina felt his hot breath delicately fanning the inside of her ear—and instantly desire shot through her. Heat rose from her toes to the top of her head and she was on fire—for him.

He continued to hold her close. "And I'm not little," he softly whispered. His words, so close to her ear, were wrapping themselves around her like a snake. She was speechless and she briefly shut her eyes for a second. It would feel so good to give into him right now—she wanted him that badly—and her revenge plan, be damned!

Bill pulled back so that he could stare at her luscious lips. Some of the anger was beginning to leave him as he focused on them. He was so close—he could almost taste them.

Sweet, soft, delicious—and they had been kissing someone else all night long—and who knows what else she'd been doing to him—with them—all night long. His anger returned and determination flared in his eyes.

"Admit to me that you want me." He was going to get an admission out of her if they had to spend all day in this damn room.

"I'm admitting nothing." She may have desperately wanted him but she still had some self-respect left and if she admitted it to him, it would be like betraying herself.

He confidently smiled at her, "Then I'll kiss it out of you. Kisses don't lie."

And with that, his lips swooped down on hers, ever so softly, ever so gently and it was Christina's undoing. If he'd taken her lips in anger, she could have pushed him away. But this gentleness from him was the key that unlocked her heart. Slowly, she began to respond to him.

As he sensed her response, his lips grew harder, more demanding and deeper. He let go of her arm and his hands traveled slowly up to her breasts. She felt so good to him—and he wanted her like he'd never wanted anything in his life.

And when he felt her hands snake up his chest and entangle themselves into his hair, he knew he had her. She was his. She may not love him—but she wanted him. He could taste it in her lips and in the way her body had locked into his. He could feel the tremors of desire shooting through her. And he could feel the heat they generated together.

But he made a mistake.

He got greedy.

He just had to hear her say it. He needed to hear the words. He pulled back from her lips and stared into her luminous eyes. "Tell me you want me and not him."

Christina felt like ice water had just been thrown in her face. What the hell was she doing? And how close had she come to giving him her body, her soul, her dignity, her everything? She needed to put a stop to this—now. She needed her righteous anger but where was it?

She looked into his gorgeous, green eyes. "Is that how you kiss your slut?" she threw out. There it was—her righteous anger.

Bill was taken aback, "What are you talking about?"

"Answer me. Is that how you kiss… her?" Jealousy flared through Christina at the mere thought of Stephie.

Bill shook his head in amazement. "Who?"

Christina pulled out of his arms, putting space between them. "I know all about your girlfriend, so don't play dumb."

"Girlfriend? There is no girlfriend."

Christina ignored him. "You disgust me. You think you can go from her bed to mine and back again? Think again."

Bill ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. This really was the most trying, difficult, impossible female he'd ever met in his life—and he loved her. Why did he have to pick this one to love? His eyes refocused on her angry face. "There is no girlfriend. There hasn't been anyone since before I met you."

"And you expect me to believe that?"

"Yes, I expect you to believe that because I'm telling you the truth. I swear it."

Christina was suddenly unsure. He seemed so adamant, so convincing. Was he telling her the truth? But then that meant that Stephie had been lying—which was very possible. Big bitches like her were always good liars. But the other woman had known too many details about Christina and Bill's secret deal that only Bill could have told her. No—he was the one who was lying, not Stephie.

"Go back to your rich-bitch lover, Mr. Havenwood and leave me alone."

Christina walked to the closed door but quick as a flash, he was there before her, preventing her escape.

He glared at her. "There is no one…except you; only you."

Bill desperately wanted her to believe him. But he wasn't going to go all the way and tell her how deeply he felt for her. He couldn't bear it right now to have his love thrown back in his face too.

Christina was back to being her cool and in-control self again. Not believing one lying word coming out of that hot, sensual, experienced mouth of his, she looked at him as if he was a used gum stuck under her shoe.

"Move out of my way before I scream the place down."

Bill paused, as he continued to devour her with his eyes. He had been so close—and he'd blown it. He gave a small laugh at his own stupidity before opening the salon door for her and gallantly waving her out with his hand.

As she passed him with head held high, he caught a whiff of her perfume—the one that had tattooed itself into his brain—and he felt his desire for her flare up again. What was he, a high school boy that a mere whiff of her could make him hard again?

As he watched her well-shaped ass walk away from him, he shook his head at the mess he was in. He wanted her and he really had no chance, in hell, of getting her.

* * *

Furious, Christina stormed into her bedroom and slammed the door shut. How goddamn dare he? Accuse her of sleeping around, when he was guilty as sin! And then he'd made that pass at her, forcing his kisses and hands on her…

But no—he hadn't really forced anything on her, had he?

She could have refused him at any point during that encounter, but she hadn't. She had wanted more. In fact, when she was in his arms, she'd forgotten about everything—her revenge plan, her dignity, who he was, who she was. If he hadn't broken the spell by asking her to admit her desire for him, she would be, right now, in this very bed of hers, having sex with him—and loving every moment of it.

Christina moaned out loud at her own stupidity. Thank God he had spoken up. Thank God she had come to her senses. And thank God she had walked away from him.

Suddenly, Christina felt like she couldn't breathe. This was all too much for her and she needed to get out of here.

Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door. She needed fresh air, sunshine and shopping. Retail therapy would make her forget about the mess she was in—with him.

He felt like the biggest jackass on the planet.

Bill was sitting at the Fido Foods boardroom table. His father had called an afternoon meeting and all of the executives were there. Everyone was listening to William's lecture on improving sales—except him. Bill's thoughts were on her. He'd been so jealous this morning that when she'd finally come home, he'd exploded.

In his favor, he didn't have any experience with what jealousy felt like. He'd never really been in love before so he'd never been jealous. All of his past relationships had been casual and fun—and if anyone had wanted more than that, he usually broke it off. No woman had ever brought out in him the range of emotions like this one had. And no woman had ever made a jackass out of him either—like this one had.

But she was right.

He had no business asking her where she'd spent the night. It wasn't like they were really engaged. They only had a deal between them and he had no rights where she was concerned.

If she wanted to sleep with every Tom, Dick, Harry and Joe, that was for her to decide—even if it killed him inside. And it would kill him, because he loved her.

William noticed his son was not paying attention. He was instead doodling on the sales report and his head was down.

Hastily, William ended the meeting and all the executives filed out. The only one who remained seated was Bill. Lost in his thoughts, he hadn't heard his father dismiss everyone.

William studied his son's bent head. He knew what was going on. He had a suspicion that Bill had fallen for the girl—and fallen hard. Bentley had called him this morning with the news that Bill and Christina could be heard yelling at each other in the salon. Apparently, Christina had spent last night elsewhere and Bill had demanded to know where she'd been.

That had resulted in a major fight that could be heard through the closed doors. His son had thought Christina had spent the night with her lover and his son had been wild with jealousy this morning.

That could only mean one thing, William reasoned. His son had fallen for her, maybe even loved her? He certainly was attracted to the girl; even William had noticed that. And the girl had been good for his lazy, good-for-nothing son. Look at him. Bill was actually sitting in the Fido Foods boardroom taking a meeting—even if his mind was elsewhere. When had Bill ever shown up for work on time, let alone a meeting?

William's calculator brain fired up. What if—the girl were to marry his son for real? William liked Christina a lot. She had grit, sass and smarts—and seemed to be shaping up his son whereas all of William's efforts had failed. Maybe the love of a good woman really did work miracles on a man? It certainly seemed to be working for his lazy, drunken, bum-of-a-son.

William had given up hope of his son finding a woman to love and settling down. All Bill had ever been interested in was partying, drinking and whoring—and nothing William said could change his ways.

But this girl had.

Of course, Christina didn't come from wealth and her parents were middle class, working people. And of course, William would have preferred his son to marry into some pedigreed, old money, Mayflower family; but beggars couldn't be choosers—and he'd begged his son enough times to smarten up to no avail.

Maybe this girl was the one?

Besides—middle class, working blood was good for breeding strong, ambitious grandbabies—and he certainly wanted those. And if his son married the girl for real, William would get those grandbabies in spades. Christina was definitely good breeding stock.

At that moment, Bill looked up from his doodling and seeing that everyone had left, mumbled a 'sorry' and got up from his chair.

William folded his arms across his chest. "You had a fight with Christina, didn't you?"

Bill went on the defensive. "Who told you that?"

"No one told me." Yes, they had. "You didn't hear a word I said throughout the meeting."

"Does it really matter? You never take my suggestions anyway."

"Son?"

Bill was suddenly wary. He couldn't remember the last time his father had called him 'son'. "Yes?"

William came over and put a consoling arm around his son's shoulders "Son, you're going to be a husband soon and I think it's a father's duty to talk to his offspring about the birds and the bees."

"I think I know all about that stuff, dad."

William smirked. "Yes, I'm sure you could give me lessons; but that's not what I'm talking about. The birds and the bees have to do with the facts of life. And the facts of life are this—when you marry a woman and she becomes your wife, you, the husband must learn to grovel."

"What?"

"It's called groveling. You get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness, even if you were right and she was wrong. Now, groveling is an art form and you will perfect it as your marriage continues, so don't expect to do it right the first time."

Bill burst out laughing. "That has to be the most insane thing I've ever heard you say." And about the nicest, he added to himself. He couldn't remember the last time his father had been nice to him. "I bet you never groveled with mom."

"Then you, sonny boy, would bet wrong. You weren't privy to everything that went on in our marriage and if your mother were here right now, dressed in one of her hippy, gypsy outfits, she'd tell you that I groveled many times."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe it. Now, go back home to Christina and grovel. Beg for forgiveness. She'll listen, I promise."

Bill gave his father a slow smile. "You're pretty smart for an old, conniving coot."

William smiled back. "That's about the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Giving his father a look of newfound respect, Bill walked out.

William watched him walk out. Sure, he knew all about their scheme to deceive him—and sure he'd done everything to have their scheme backfire; but now there was going to be a change of plans.

Suddenly, he wanted the girl to marry his son for real. And he wanted his grandbabies. He desperately wanted his grandbabies. And she was good for him—and he'd be happy with her.

William wasn't a complete ogre. Deep down, he loved his son very much and only wanted the best for him. It was just that they, father and son, usually disagreed on what that was.

Yes—those two were going to marry and he, William, would bring it about; but how?

He could try to offer Christina money but he knew she wouldn't be interested. He'd already seen that she wasn't interested in anything the Havenwoods materially had—which of course, was another gold star in her favor. So, what could he do?

William needed time to think—and to plot—and to plan.