Her Perfect Revenge (26 page)

The slut had said something about tickets.

Christina snuck into Bill's bedroom. She needed to find those tickets if she was going to confront him. If she didn't have tangible proof to throw in his face, he would deny everything just as he'd been doing all along.

Where they here—or at the office? She'd look here first and worry about the office later. She moved to his dresser where papers were strewn on top—but they were only company reports.

She glanced around the room. Maybe they were in his bedside tables? Like a cat, she quietly moved to the first one, to the left of his bed. She opened the drawer and spotted them right away. There were three airline tickets resting on top of one of his smut magazines.

Snatching them up, Christina opened the first one. It had his name on it—and sure enough, it was for a flight to the Caymans leaving the day after their supposed wedding date and coming back two weeks later.

Her heart started to pound.

She flipped the second ticket open. It was for the same flight and dates; and the name on it was 'Christina Havenwood'. Her pounding heart skipped a beat. She'd never seen her name coupled with his before in print. She stared at it—not quite believing what she was seeing.

Then, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she glared at the third ticket. Like a jealous wife, she opened it. Inside, the name on it was Stephanie Hartwell—and all three tickets had been charged to Bill Havenwood's credit card.

Christina saw red. So—the bitch had been telling the truth! That louse was going to take that viper along on her honeymoon. How could he? How bloody could he? Okay—maybe their marriage wasn't a real one—and maybe their honeymoon was for show—but it was still a honeymoon, damn it! Oh, he was such a snake—a rattlesnake! What a perfect couple he and Stephie made—the rattlesnake and the viper!

Christina may have finally admitted to herself that she loved him, but she wasn't going to let him take her for a fool—and she certainly wasn't going to put up with this type of nonsense—not on her honeymoon! She was going to get him tomorrow and get him good. She was going to teach him a lesson, one he wouldn't forget for a long time.

She was so angry that not once did she rationally step back and think that maybe finding the tickets had been too easy? And maybe her meeting with Stephie had been too convenient? And maybe this was all a setup?

No—none of these thoughts even dared cross her jealous, furious mind.

* * *

It was Sunday morning, the day after the engagement party and Christina was already on her way to Jenny's apartment, needing to talk things over with her friend. She had quietly slipped out early while the rest of the house was still asleep. It had been a late night and the last of their guests, including her parents and Bill's mom, had all left at 3 a.m.

Now sitting at Jenny's kitchen table, Christina had just finished telling her friend all about the party—about the high society luminaries that had shown up—about how her parents and Bill's mom had unexpectedly appeared—and about how the evening had been a huge success.

"I wish you could have been there, Jenny," Christina said.

"I know Chrissy but he could have recognized me and we couldn't take that chance," Jenny sighed. "So tell me the best part. How did he look in his tuxedo?"

Christina smiled, "Amazing, fabulous and hot. But that's not the best part. I had a little chat with his girlfriend."

Shocked, Jenny gasped. "You mean Stephie was there?"

Christina nodded. "Bill invited her. She said so."

Jenny was doubtful. "Chrissy, are you sure? To the same party where his father's at?"

Christina nodded, "Yes, and she told me he's taking me on a Caribbean honeymoon and she's coming too."

Jenny gasped even louder, "No way!"

"He's already booked everything. I found airline tickets for all three of us in his bedroom last night."

Christina reached into her purse and threw them down on the table. Jenny quickly grabbed them and flipped them open.

"What did he say when you asked him?"

"I haven't asked him yet… but I will, tonight."

Christina's eyes glinted dangerously and Jenny caught the look. "Chrissy, what are you up to?"

"I'm going to teach that bastard a lesson like he hasn't learnt in any school that's he's ever flunked out of."

"Chrissy… don't."

"I need to go shopping this afternoon to get a few supplies and then I'm putting my plan into action tonight."

Jenny looked backed at the tickets, "What if Stephie's lying?"

"Lying? No way. The proof is in your hands."

"Anybody can get tickets made up, Chrissy."

"What about his credit card? All three were charged to it."

"You told me Bill and Stephie dated for over two years. It's very possible she could know his card number and maybe she did all this to come between you two."

Christina calmly sipped her tea and raised her nose in the air. "I don't think so. She knows too many details about mine and that swine's business arrangement, details that only he could have told her. Sure, she may be telling me things in order to break us up. She believes he and I are sleeping together anyway."

"Really?"

"She told me so last night. And she's probably confronting me because she's jealous but what she doesn't know is she's actually doing me a favor. She's telling me where things really stand between him and I. And information gives me power."

"Does he still want you?"

"Yes, but he doesn't love me."

"Chrissy, are you sure?"

"Jenny, those tickets prove it."

"Do you love him?"

Christina paused. Her answer was slow in coming. "Yes… but that doesn't mean I'm going to give up my self-respect for a few crumbs of affection from him. There are women in this world who'll do anything for love, including giving up their power to a man but I'm not one of them."

Jenny laughed, "I know you're not but you're playing with fire."

"But he's going to get burned, not me," Christina confidently remarked.

Jenny didn't believe her but she knew her friend had to make her own mistakes. "Before I forget," she continued, "I called Robert and he's going to check out that 1625 Shelley Ave warehouse."

"Great. He's the best reporter Streetwise has and he'll find something."

Jenny giggled. "So what's your plan for tonight? How are you going to get him?"

"Well… it's like this…" and for the next half hour Christina told her friend what she planned to do to Bill Havenwood to make him pay for wanting to bring his mistress along on their honeymoon.

When Christina was finished, Jenny burst out laughing, "Oh Chrissy, that's so diabolical."

Christina's eyes glinted with pride, "Isn't it?"

Bill hadn't seen Christina all day. He'd gotten up early that morning wanting to have breakfast with her but he was surprised when he'd passed her open bedroom door and saw Tilly already making the bed. He'd asked her where Christina was and he'd been told that she'd already left the house.

That had spurred his curiosity. Where the hell had she gone at that hour of the morning? Probably into the city to see her boyfriend, that's where! Jealousy coursed through Bill. He was in love with her and he didn't want any other man touching her but she was a free, independent woman whom he had no claims over—not yet anyway.

Bill had then gone out in the afternoon and met up with Jake at a very discreet restaurant. He had an envelope of Havenwood money to give to his friend for the GME cause.

Bill was funding the organization with his and his dad's money. Sometimes he'd give them straight cash and sometimes he'd funnel funds through several bank accounts he'd set up in the Caymans, a favorite haunt of his that he'd taken Stephie to several times when they'd been dating. He'd created a clever layer of dummy corporations through the Caribbean and Switzerland that prevented anyone from tracing the source of that money back to him. No one knew that GME was his baby and being financed by the blood money his father made on his shaky business deals. In Bill's mind, some of that blood money was now being washed clean because it was being used to do good.

Jake had been in good spirits today and had wanted to know everything about the engagement party. Bill had wanted his best friend to be there but Jake had refused. New York high-falutin' society, as he called it, wasn't his scene. Besides, all the guys at GME were preparing to throw Bill a bachelor party the likes of which he'd never seen even at the height of his wildest, partying days. Bill had laughed. That was going to be some outrageous party, he'd said.

Bill had then told Jake to call a GME meeting that week at the Shelley Ave warehouse—usual time of midnight—in order to discuss his father's counter-attack moves which were already being planned at Fido Foods. Acting as liaison between Bill and the boys, Jake agreed. Bill wasn't the only who was secretive about his involvement with the environmental group. Jake was too. Since Bill and he had been best friends since high school, and William knew Jake as Bill's friend, Jake was very careful about being seen with GME.

On the drive home, all Bill could think about was—her.

Had she been with her scumbag boyfriend today? Is that why she'd left the house so early? To see him? To be with him? To sleep with him?

And how could he get her to like him—Bill—and not that sleaze? Could she ever love him? She had helped him out last night with the champagne toast incident, so maybe…? All these thoughts raced through his brain as he pulled into the Havenwood drive.

As soon as he stepped through the front doors, Eudora came up to him. "Master Bill, Miss Christina said she needs to see you. She's in her room, I believe," she said in her Irish lilt.

Bill smiled at the elderly maid. "Thank you, Eudora." He loved her very much. She was like the grandmother he'd never had.

Quickly climbing the curving staircase, Bill reached Christina's bedroom door in seconds and knocked.

The door opened—and there she stood—wearing a partially opened black silk robe that revealed a black lace bra, panties and stay-up stockings.

"Hi there," she saucily smiled at him.

Bill's eyes practically popped out of their sockets as fierce desire shot through him at the sight of her dressed like that.

"Holy shit!" he inadvertently exclaimed. Then regaining his composure, he amended, "I mean… hi."

He was practically speechless and was, suddenly, having problems breathing. But, for one spilt second, he wondered what she was up to? Why had she answered the door like that? His eyes feasted again on her almost naked body—and the thought vanished.

Christina opened the door wider, "Come in," she temptingly invited.

Bill didn't need to be asked twice. He quickly entered her bedroom and she shut the door behind him.

He turned to her then, his eyes glued to her hot, luscious body being exposed by the open robe. He couldn't help himself as his gaze roamed over every juicy curve of hers from her breasts, down to her womanly stomach and hips; and right down to her fire engine-red polished toes peaking through the black stockings. His eyes traveled back up her body and came to rest on her eyes.

She gave him another sexy smile, "Do you like what you see?"

"Ye… Yes," the one word came out in a gasp. All the blood had instantly drained from his brain and was now pooling in his privates. One look at her was all it took to make him hard.

"Good," she announced before walking to her dresser.

As she moved away from him, her black kitten-heeled slippers caused her hips to sway in an erotic rhythm and his eyes were riveted.

She reached for her perfume bottle and spritzed some on. Bill could smell the alluring fragrance from where he still stood near the door. Damn, that smell was hot! He was so hard right now that he felt he would burst at any second, like an inexperienced school boy. He began to shuffle nervously from foot to foot.

Christina watched him through the dresser mirror and smiled to herself. She could almost see his forehead getting damp with sweat. Oh yeah, she thought to herself, everything was going according to plan, all right.

She turned to him then and as she did, her robe parted. His eyes grew bigger as he continued to gawk at her and he didn't know what to do. Was she inviting him to make a move or what?

"Eu…Eudora… said… you wanted to see me?" Was that really his voice that had just squeaked out those words? He cleared his throat.

She slowly walked back to him. "I couldn't sleep last night. I kept thinking about what you said."

As she reached him, he looked down at her—then quickly stuffed both hands in his pockets, otherwise, they would have touched her soft breasts of their own volition—and he still didn't know what was going on.

"I…I… said… a lot of things," he stammered.

Where was the cool, suave, confident Bill Havenwood who'd had a legion of women over the years? The one who was in control at all times, who'd experienced every kind of sexual position with every blond, brunette, redhead he'd ever wanted—and had so effortlessly gotten? What had happened to that guy? Because the one standing here was unsure of himself—and about to burst in his pants.

Suddenly, Christina ran a finger softly down his cheek. "Are you really that good at farming?" she whispered.

He gave her a lop-sided smile at that, "Darling, I can give you a ride on my tractor like you'll never forget." He paused before whispering, "Interested?"

Her finger reached his lips and slowly traced their outline. "Maybe." She seductively smiled at him then as her eyes pierced his. "Excellence in anything always interests me," she challenged before licking her lips.

Bill couldn't take anymore. Pulling his hands out of his pockets, he reached for her and with a low groan, pulled her roughly against his chest. His greedy lips swooped down and began to kiss her with a softness she never would have expected from him.

In an instant, she was responding to him and with another low groan from him—or was that more of a growl—he increased the pressure. Her lips opened to him and he thrust his hot tongue inside, probing the depths of her soul.

She matched him, movement for movement, and her hands entwined themselves in his hair. His hard hands began their slow, sensual ascent from her waist to her breasts, cupping them and kneading them through the thin lacy material of her bra.

Bill had lost control.

Christina had not.

She'd never been more in control in her life. She was still so angry at him for the Stephie/honeymoon fiasco that she knew what she was doing every hot, fiery second she was now sharing with him. Even though she too felt the passionate heat the two were now generating, the bastard wasn't getting her this time. She was getting him.

Her hands dropped from his hair, traveling down his arms and to his wrists. She pulled his hands off of her swollen breasts and abruptly broke away from him. Both were breathing heavily as they stared into each other's eyes.

Confusion flashed through Bill's eyes. Was she telling him 'no'? Did she want him to stop? But then she smiled at him—that smile that women do and he knew she wanted him—right now—as much as he desperately, achingly wanted her.

"So, Bill Havenwood, you wanna come out and play with me?" she seductively smiled, as she pulled him towards her bed.

"I'm all yours, my little wildcat," he smirked as his eyes devoured every nuance of her beautiful face—from her swollen, kiss-ravaged lips to her flushed cheeks before roaming down her lush, sexy body. She was going to be his and he could barely stand it.

They reached the edge of her king size wrought iron bed and she stopped. Her hands left his wrists and moved up his chiseled chest to his shoulders. Slowly, she removed his jacket and let it drop to the floor.

Bill stared at her—hard—mesmerized by every move she was making. He wanted her so badly that he didn't stop to think about why she had suddenly changed her mind about him or why she suddenly wanted to be with him or if she still loathed him, as she'd said last night. No—he wasn't thinking at all.

Christina giggled as she gave his muscular chest a strong push, causing him to fall backwards onto the bed.

He smiled invitingly. "Are you going to join me?" he said.

She nodded. "But first I'm going to undress you." She straddled him then, joining him on the bed. Resting on top of his hard erection, she moved her hips back and forth and he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

"Oh God," he barely choked out. “If you don't stop that, I'm going to embarrass myself in three seconds flat.”

Christina stopped and lowering her torso onto his, planted a swift, hard kiss on his lips. Reaching for her, he was about to extend the kiss even longer when she pulled away and shook her head 'no'.

She giggled again, "I don't think so, Mr. Havenwood. We're going to do things my way." Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt and ran her hands up and down his naked chest.

Bill watched with hungry eyes. "Whatever you want, Miss Christina. I'm here for your pleasure."

"That's what I like to hear." She returned his piercing stare with one of her own before reaching for his belt buckle. Expertly unbuckling it, she slowly unzipped his pants. The only sounds in the room were his heavy breathing and the metal rasp of zipper teeth coming apart. As her hand came into contact with his hard erection still concealed by the material of his pants, he winced and closed his eyes briefly.

Her hand stopped and his eyes flew open to her face.

"I have to tell you something… before we go any further," she said.

"What? Tell me." His words came out in a rush.

Suddenly shy, her eyes lowered. "I'm not like other women. I… have special… needs." Her eyes came back up to his and she gave him a gamine smile. "Are you game?"

At this point, Bill was so hot for her he would have jumped off Mount Everest if she'd asked him. He gave her his best smile back—that perfect, movie star smile that had captured the attentions of many a female. "My darling, I'll do anything you want me to."

His hands reached for her then and plastered themselves on her hips, which were still astride his clothed crotch. Sitting on top of him as she was, he gently rocked her back and forth across his fullness, making sure she understood how badly he wanted her.

Christina briefly closed her own eyes. Her thin, lace panties were no barrier against the heat emanating from his hard penis, even though it was still concealed in his pants and—damn it—she could feel herself getting wet. It would be so easy to lose control—and so much fun.

But Stephie's beautiful face popped into her mind then and that put the brakes on her desire. She was back in control. She opened her eyes and looked at him. He knew exactly what he was doing to her as he gave her a devilish grin.

"Don't be shy, my little wet flower. Tell me what you like and I'll do it for you," he offered.

Acting nervous, Christina bit her lip. "Okay," she whispered. She reached over to her bedside table drawer and pulled out a pair of men's cartoon character's underwear. She held them up and temptingly said, "I want you to strip and put these on."

Surprised, Bill did a double take, as he took in all the cartoon faces plastered all over the boxers. Hey, if that's what it took to turn her on, why not, he thought to himself.

"Give them to me. I told you, I'll do whatever you want."

He took the shorts from her hands and getting off the bed began to strip for her. She stayed on the bed and watched him intensely.

He let his open shirt slide off his chest before reaching for the waistband of his pants. With one sexy shake, the pants fell down around his ankles and Christina giggled like a schoolgirl.

And with one kick, he threw the pants across the room and he was standing there in front of her naked except for a pair of briefs.

"Do you like what you see, my little minx."

Christina giggled and gave a small clap. "I like, I like," she laughed. "Give me more."

With his eyes still focused on her hot, flushed face, he tugged at his underwear and slipped them off in one fell swoop, freeing his hard erection. As he stood naked in front of her, Christina's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Oh my, she thought, Jenny was right—he was big—and perfectly shaped. In fact, everything about this bastard's body was perfect—not an ounce of fat on him. He had a beautiful face and a well-endowed manhood. How did bastards get to be so lucky?

He was talking to her again as he preened for her, "What about now? Still like what you see?

"I like; but you know what I need," she dared him.

In one graceful movement, he slipped on the cartoon boxer shorts and modeled them around the room for her. Christina giggled some more.

She stopped giggling then; and turned serious. "Come here," she ordered.