by Anna Mara
"Come in," she heard him say in his British accent.
She opened the door and peeked in. He was sitting at his desk. "William, Bill needs to see you. He's in my room." She smiled at the old man before turning to walk out the door.
She needed to get away from this place tonight—and away from 'him'. His kisses and the intimate moments they had shared upstairs had affected her more than she cared to admit.
* * *
As Christina's BMW was peeling out of the Havenwood drive, William was already on his way up the stairs to Christina's bedroom. He could hear his son screaming out for her.
What the hell was going on?
William approached Christina's open bedroom door and peered in. There was his son—naked except for a pair of silly underwear, which were bulging up at a most inopportune angle—and the boy was handcuffed to the bloody bed.
Bill watched his dad slowly walk into the room. Oh no, this had to be the most embarrassing, humiliating, mortifying, moment of his life for his damned father to see him like this.
His father burst out laughing.
"Well, well, well," he said. "What did you do now?"
Bill was seething inside. "Nothing; I did nothing."
"Looks like it." William kept laughing as he came closer to the bed. "Did Christina do this to you?"
"No, I did it to myself. Of course, she did it to me," Bill gritted through his teeth. "And when I get my hands on her, there's going to be hell to pay."
"I'd say that was kind of difficult to do… getting your hands on her, I mean… considering that your hands are handcuffed to the bed." William burst out laughing for another round of guffaws at his son's expense.
Bill glared at his father. "Get me out of these!" Frustrated, he tugged hard at his handcuffs. He didn't liked being laughed at, especially by his old man.
"Son, I like that girl." William almost had tears streaming down his face.
Bill felt impotent and that was something he never felt. Oh—he was so angry at her for making him feel this way, for putting him in this god awful vulnerable position, for his father finding him like this—and for her making him still want her after it all.
"I'm so glad you approve, dad, but do you think you can maybe help me get out of these damned things!" Bill sarcastically replied, as he yanked at the cuffs again.
"I don't suppose you have the key?"
Bill seethed as he was forced to admit, "She flushed it down the toilet."
This brought another round of laughter from his father. "Down the loo, that's a good one. What a pistol!" He shook his head in between laughs.
"Dad? My handcuffs?" Bill jangled them, trying to bring his father's attention back to his predicament.
"Oh, right." William came over to inspect them. "I'll get Tom and ask him to bring…" William burst out laughing again. "…his tools from the potting shed."
William kept laughing as he walked out the door but Bill was fuming mad. First he'd deal with Stephie—and then he'd deal with—her!
In the end, Tom, the gardener had to saw through the steel handcuffs with Bill still trapped on the bed. To Tom's credit, he didn't ask any questions or say a word about the boy's situation—but man, would the story ever make the rounds of the house tonight!
Chapter 49
Bill was on the warpath. He entered the dark, noisy interior of Shades, one of the city's hippest and hottest nightclubs and gave himself a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. A few seconds was all he needed. He knew the confines of this place like the back of both hands. It had been his home away from home many moons ago when he'd been dating Stephie.
Everyone who was anyone in their rich, cosmopolitan set was here tonight and Bill saw many familiar faces as he scanned the crowded dance floor. But he was looking for only one person and Bill knew that she was here—somewhere. She was always here, guaranteed—partying, drinking, dancing, getting high and generally wasting away her idle, privileged life.
Like he had once done—many moons ago.
He spotted her then. She was standing in the back, with drink in hand—and the center of attention of two men. Typical, Bill smirked to himself. Leopards really didn't change their spots especially dangerous, sharp-clawed felines like Stephanie Hartwell.
Bill pushed his way through some of the dancers and reached her side in five seconds flat. He grabbed her wrist and surprised, she turned around to see him by her side.
A welcoming smile stretched across her face. "Well hello, lover," she purred, obviously glad to see him.
Bill's face remained stony. "Let's talk," he ordered, then proceeded to half drag her, half pull her across the dance floor into one of the VIP private rooms off to the side.
The second they were in the room, he released her wrist as if it had burned him and he slammed the door shut. He pulled out the three airline tickets and waved them at her.
"Your handiwork, I take it?" he accused, as he threw them at her. They fluttered to the floor.
Stephie looked down at the tickets before raising her eyes back to Bill's angry face. "You can't blame a girl for trying, now can you?" she taunted him.
Bill was livid and he started shouting at her. "How dare you pull a stunt like this, coming to my house, uninvited and spewing a pack of lies to cause trouble between Christina and me."
Stephie's smile dropped and her true malicious self shone through. "I can't believe you really want to tie yourself to a nondescript, little nobody like her when I gave you so much—and I still can." Stephie bridged the gap between them and wrapped her graceful arms around Bill's neck. "It can be me, you know, instead of her; I can be your wife." She sounded desperate.
Bill pulled her arms off of his body. "Stephie, no. It's over. We're over." He was adamant and he pushed her away.
"You don't love her. How can you love a little mouse like that?"
"My relationship with Christina is my business, so stay out of it."
"You can't mean that?"
"Oh, I mean it. And if I hear that you've approached her again in any way with anymore of your lies or tricks or schemes, I won't be so nice next time. I'll make sure the bank calls in everyone of your loans that I helped you get."
"You wouldn't!" she gasped.
"Try me." Bill was deadly serious. It was written all over his face.
Stephie was shocked. In the back of her mind, she had always thought that she and Bill would somehow get back together, that this Miss Nobody was just a passing fancy to help him out with his father but now she saw that he had genuine feelings for her. The little bitch had won! She'd won him and the pot of gold he came with. Stephie's jealousy soared to new heights, as did her vindictiveness.
She raised her nose up in the air. "Don't you threaten me!" she threw at him.
Bill glared at her, "Stay away from Christina or else."
With one last disgusted look at her, he turned and walked out.
Stephie's rage boiled over. Looking around the room, she spotted a tray of glasses and taking them one by one, started to throw them against the wall, smashing them into a million pieces.
She wasn't finished with those two—not by a long shot. If she couldn't have him, she'd somehow make damn sure that the little bitch wouldn't have him either.
* * *
Outside the nightclub, Bill strode to his parked car.
One down, one to go, he thought to himself.
Chapter 50
Christina arrived at the Baldora couture shop in the afternoon. She had another scheduled fitting for her wedding dress and was meeting Mindy, the wedding planner there to discuss the plans.
Even though she had spent last night in her own bed at her own apartment, she hadn't been able to sleep at all. If truth were told, she was worried about Bill's reaction when she went back to the house tonight. Would he still be mad at her for what she'd done to him? Would they have another fight and she'd have to storm out again?
Christina didn't regret what she'd done. He'd had it
coming for trying to sneak that slut into their honeymoon—not that Christina had any intention of actually going on a honeymoon since she still hoped to get out of marrying the creep. It was just the idea that he was taking her for a fool by trying to pull a cheap, scumbag move on her like that.
Christina giggled to herself. He did look pretty funny dressed in those stupid shorts chained to the bed. Wonder what William thought when he'd seen his son like that? Probably got a big kick out of it, as well. And how in heaven did they get those cuffs off? And how long had the bastard stayed like that? Maybe, he was still handcuffed to the bedpost right now?
Christina giggled some more at the image of that.
But she, suddenly, stopped giggling when she remembered the hot, sizzling kisses they'd shared—and the way his greedy hands had run all over her body—and how she'd felt when she'd been sitting on top of his hard erection—and then those sweet kisses he'd trailed from her neck, down her stomach almost reaching her privates before she had stopped him.
She hadn't meant for things to go that far. She hadn't meant for him to give her those soul-destroying kisses or have his hot hands travel all over her body. Although her anger at him had kept her in control the entire time, her physical attraction for him had allowed her to push the envelope when it came to her little foreplay games.
It would have been so easy to give in and forget her plan and her self-respect—and spend all of last night making love to him. She had wanted to do that so very badly but she was in a big mess when it came to Bill Havenwood. This wasn't a normal, everyday relationship. There was no love here, at least not on his side—and there were too many games, deceptions and lies on all sides. No—she needed to stay focused and somehow extricate herself from this disastrous situation before she'd have to say any real 'I do's'.
Having changed into her wedding dress, Christina came out to stand on the platform where two seamstresses were waiting. As she was turning around as per their instructions, Mindy walked in followed by Christina's mom, Gabriella and Bill's mom, Maddie Havenwood.
Christina was stunned. "Mom? Mrs. Havenwood… Maddie? What are you two doing here," she asked.
"I invited them. I thought we could all sit down and discuss your wedding plans together," Mindy innocently piped up.
"What a good idea, Mindy," Christina replied as she pasted a phony smile on her lips. She was not thrilled.
"Darling, you look beautiful," Gabriella choked on her words as she lovingly gazed at her daughter in her wedding gown. She dabbed her wet eyes with a tissue.
"Mommy, please don't cry."
"I can't help it. You look like an angel."
Maddie put a comforting hand on Gabriella's arm. "She does look beautiful, Gabriella." She then turned to Christina. "My son's very lucky."
Christina smiled, "No, I'm the lucky one, Maddie. Your son is… amazing." Yeah—an amazing bastard, that's what.
Gabriella was still tearing up and Maddie grasped her hand. "Gabriella, let's wait outside and give these hard-working ladies…" meaning the seamstresses, "…some privacy?"
Gabriella nodded, "We'll be right outside, sweetheart," she said to Christina.
"Okay, mommy." Great, thought Christina; now she'd have to deal with those two!
Christina spent the next twenty minutes standing still for the seamstresses, then went to change and joined her mom, Maddie and Mindy in the lounge area.
Sandwiched between her mom and Maddie on the antique couch with Mindy opposite them, Christina had to endure an hour of discussions on her stupid, damn wedding which was never going to happen anyway, if she had anything to do about it.
As the two mother hens took over the decision-making, Christina's mind kept wandering back to last night—and how his hot kisses had tasted—and how he had smelled of some exotic male cologne, or had that been his scent? Whatever it was, it had driven her wild. And then, when their bodies had been plastered on top of each other on the bed—and she'd been kissing him—and he'd been kissing her back—doing to her what she was doing to him—why, she could feel the heat again now.
"My dear," Mindy examined Christina. "You look flushed. Are you all right?"
All three women studied Christina's red face.
"Ye… yes, it's just awfully hot in here," Christina stammered.
Appeased, Mindy continued. "Anyway, my dear, you have to tell me who your bridesmaids and maid of honor will be? We need to get their dresses made and the wedding's three weeks away."
Oh no, Christina thought, who else was she going to have to involve in this debacle?
"We'll ask your cousins Angela and Connie and your maid of honor will be Theresa. I owe her mother," Gabriella immediately piped up.
"Mom, no; I don't want any of those people involved."
"But your aunts will make my life hell if we don't ask your cousins."
"Mommy, this is my wedding." She turned to Mindy. "I only want a maid of honor and one flower girl; and that's it."
"But my dear," Mindy began, "You have to have bridesmaids."
Maddie, on the other hand, saw that Christina had already made up her mind. She turned to the other two women. "Wedding etiquette isn't set in stone. If Christina doesn't want any bridesmaids, then she won't have any. After all, the Havenwoods make up their own rules." She smiled at her daughter-in-law-to-be.
Christina gave her a warm smile back. She liked this woman a lot. Too bad things had soured between her and William. She could see how the two had been initially attracted to each other. They were both no nonsense types with he providing the brains and drive of the team; and she providing the warmth and nurturing.
"Maddie's right. I'm going to ask my friend, Jenny and her daughter, Taylor. I'm firm on this."
Gabriella was about to argue when she took in her daughter's determined and set face. She threw her hands up in surrender, "Okay. What do I know? I'm only your mother!"
Christina gave her mom a quick kiss on the cheek, "Thanks, mommy."
Christina needed someone to pose as her maid of honor who could come in for dress fittings and be part of several wedding strategy meetings with Mindy but be in on the scam that the wedding would never happen. The most perfect accomplice for the position was Jenny, of course.
The meeting wrapped up and as they were all about to leave, Maddie pulled Christina to the side. "Christina, why don't we have lunch tomorrow? That way we can get to know each other better."
Christina smiled, "I'd love to, Maddie. How about one in the afternoon? You just let me know where you want to meet."
Maddie smiled. "I'll give you a call tomorrow morning to confirm."
Oh great, Christina thought, how was she going to get through a lunch with Bill's mom? Maddie would probably ask all kinds of personal questions about her supposed love match with her rotten son. How many lies would she have to tell then?
The sooner Christina found something to hold over the rat's head, the better. This entire fiasco couldn't be over soon enough for her.
Chapter 51
Christina studied her appearance in her full-length bedroom mirror. Not bad, she thought. It was the custom at the Havenwood manor to dress for dinner and she had decided to wear a very sexy, low-cut black dress that enticingly skimmed her curvy body.
Hopefully, if Bill kept his dirty mind on her figure, he wouldn't keep it focused on his anger at what she'd done to him last night. Maybe it would take some of the sting out of the confrontation with the bastard that Christina knew was waiting for her downstairs.
She took a deep breath. Okay, time to face the Bill Havenwood music, which in this case was going to be a full-fledged concert of screaming, accusations and fury.
* * *
Christina entered the salon. That's where they all usually had drinks before dinner.
But tonight no one was there yet.
There were, however, two long tables set up by the north wall with what looked liked gift-wrapped wedding gifts piled high on both. Christina walked over and began to
read the gift cards. She recognized some of the names as some of the high society set she had been introduced to at her engagement party.
She sighed with frustration, as she knew all of these gifts would have to be returned eventually. Still, it might be fun to open them up and see what was inside.
Bill, dressed in his elegant dinner suit, walked in and spotted her at the gift tables. She hadn't seen him yet as her back was turned to him, and this gave him a chance to study her.
In that dress, she looked amazing. Every soft curve was on display for his enjoyment. And her hair was piled high on top of her head, exposing her long, swan-like, creamy neck and back. Yes, she was definitely delicious eye candy and he could kick himself for having had all that within his grasp and then lost it. But it hadn't really been his fault, now had it. In fact, it had never really been in his grasp at all. She'd only made him think that so that she could embarrass the hell out of him for something he hadn't even done. It had all been a plot to teach him a lesson.
Bill's anger resurfaced at what she had done to him.
Instead of asking him about the tickets—or maybe even screaming at him about the tickets, like any other normal, rational woman would have done—she'd played dirty. And he, idiot that he was, had fallen for it—hook, line and sinker, at the speed of a ship's steel anchor dropping into the sea.
Yes, she was definitely a dirty fighter.
But so was he. He was going to get her just as she had gotten him but not tonight—maybe not even tomorrow—or the day after that. She'd be expecting a big blowout on this first meeting but he wasn't going to give her that. No—he was going to make her sweat it out, like someone who was on death row but didn't know the date of the execution. The waiting would be worse than the punishment.
He pasted a sexy smile on his lips and turned on the charm switch. "Are you going to open them?" he asked, in his most debonair, suave voice.
Christina gasped and quickly spun around. He was leaning against the wall by the double doors with his hands in his pockets—and outrageously handsome as ever. And he was watching her like a lion would watch their prey before the kill. She could see the dangerous glint in his eyes.