Sweeter Than Revenge

by Ann Christopher

  The look on her face, perversely, seemed to affect him more than anything else had since he’d arrived. Ignoring her fisted hands, he grabbed them again, kissing first one, then the other. “I’ll be back, Maria.”

  She said nothing, only turned her stony face away so she didn’t have to see the wild, desperate light in his eyes. If only she could also turn her ears away, or shut them off.

  Dropping her hands, he grabbed her face and kissed her cheek, over and over. When that drew no response from her, he rested his forehead against her temple, heaved in a strangled breath or two, and begged.

  “Maria. Please.”

  Rigid, she remained strangely unmoved by his emotion, almost as if she was watching the whole pathetic scene on some stupid soap opera. David Hunt had taken enough of her soul, and she would not give him another chunk of it. Not another look, word or tear would he get from her, not ever again. David Hunt, as far as she was concerned, no longer existed, and she would not mourn him.

  Finally his hands slipped away. He stared at her and she stared out the window. After ten agonizing seconds, he turned. Moving like an old man, his shoulders stooped, his head down, he opened the door and walked out of Maria’s life forever.

  Or so she’d thought.

  She came slowly out of her reverie and her surroundings reappeared: the countertop, the heavy oak table and benches over in front of the fireplace at the far end of the room, Miss Beverly’s gleaming industrial appliances. The digital clock on the range read eleven forty-three. Time for bed. Blinking, she pressed her hands to her hips and arched her back, trying to work out some of the kinks. Slowly she climbed down from the stool, not at all anxious to go to sleep and wake up to another day as Ellis Johnson Public Relations’ newest employee.

  She’d just put her plate in the dishwasher and was debating the wisdom of a final glass of wine for the night, when she heard approaching footsteps on the hardwood floors in the living room. The kitchen door swung open and David appeared.

  Since she didn’t have anything to say to him, she turned quickly away, registering only that he looked drawn and tired and wore a white T-shirt and black knit shorts. He came inside and the door flapped shut behind him, creating a slight breeze that didn’t cool her hot face or the fury in her blood.

  This was really unbelievable. There wasn’t one corner of her world that was safe from this man’s intrusion and interference, not one place she could go, even in her own lousy home, where he wouldn’t show up. No doubt if she hopped the next plane to Paris, he’d materialize in the crowd next to her as she admired the Eiffel Tower.

  Ignoring him, she gathered up the paper and her pad and pen, and wheeled toward the door.

  “Don’t leave on my account,” he said, his gaze tracking her.

  “Don’t worry.”

  He waved a hand at the paper. “Was that the auto section?”

  “Yeah,” she said, still walking.

  “I’d be happy to go with you to negotiate for a car, if that’s what you’re doing,” he quickly told her. “Sometimes men have better luck with dealers, and I—”

  Aghast, she stopped at the door and faced him. “What would possibly make you think I’d ever accept help from you?”

  Creeping closer, he held his palms out in a conciliatory gesture and pulled a guilty face. If she hadn’t had such a vast and miserable experience with him, she’d almost have fallen for it and believed he felt bad for his part in the seizure of her precious car.

  “Look,” he said softly, “I didn’t mean for Ellis to sell the—”

  “Didn’t mean?”she said, unwilling to play any role in his little farce. “That’s exactlywhat you meant. You tattled on me and told him I was late because you were hoping to get me in trouble.”

  “Yeah, but I didn’t know he’d—”

  “Didn’t know?”she cried. “What? Did you think something goodwould happen?”

  “I just…” Blinking, he opened and closed his mouth a couple times, obviously at a loss for words.

  All this faux sincerity was really too much for her. It was late, she was tired and she’d just had one of the worst, most humiliating days of her life. Though she knew she should just walk out and leave David to his own devices, whatever they may be, her raw, bleeding nerves were spoiling for a fight.

  “What’s with the concerned routine?” she wondered. “Why bother? We both know you don’t care the least little bit about me. So what’s the point of this act?”

  “I’m sorry. I just…want you to know that.”

  “You’re sorry,” she spat. “Well, I guess we’re square now, huh?”

  Something dangerous crossed over his features, darkening his face and flashing in his eyes. “Oh, no.” He paused. “We’re not square at all.”

  “You got that right.”

  They stared at each other, frozen and locked in a silent struggle of ill feelings and mutual malice. After a minute, though, he blinked and looked away.

  “Look,” he said, and she heard the rising frustration in his voice. He ran one hand over the top of his head and down the back of his neck in an apparent attempt to tamp down his anger and get through to her. “I’m tryinghere. We have to work and live together, and I’m at least trying—”

  His emphasis on that particular word, and his willingness to try now when he’d refused to try to make their relationship work four years ago, infuriated her to the point where she wanted to lunge for his throat, to scratch his glittering brown eyes out.

  “Oh, you’re trying,are you? Well, that just changes everything, doesn’t it?”

  Anger seemed to overcome him. She watched with a detached, clinical curiosity as his thunderous brow lowered, his eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared and his mouth sneered. A low, ominous sound vibrated from his throat, reminding her of the warning tigers and other large cats emit before attacking. If he was furious, so much the better. She wanted the fight, and she’d waited four years for it.

  Still he tried to remain calm. “I…am…reaching out to you,” he began, “and I—”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” she snarled, heading for the door again. “And save me your explanations. I don’t care what you do—”

  In a dizzying burst of movement he flashed past, and then suddenly he was between her and the door, cutting off her escape, a threatening two-hundred and twenty pounds of menace. Recoiling, she backed up several hasty steps, and then froze, waiting to see what he would do next.

  For the first time tonight she felt afraid. Not physically afraid, but still afraid. She’d pushed him too far, and she didn’t know what further emotional damage this man was capable of inflicting on her. Adrenaline flooded her veins, screaming at her to run for her life—to sprint for the other door at the far side of the kitchen—but her feet had taken root in the tile floor.

  One large step brought him right up to her, until he was excruciatingly close and she could feel the heat flaming off his huge body as though she’d hugged a blast furnace. His lips stretched tight over his white teeth in a chilling sneer, and she braced herself.

  “Explanations?”he said. “Funny you should mention explanations,since that’s exactly what you owe me.”

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 10

  David felt like the ruined remnants of a wool sweater, as though Maria had come along, taken one loose inch of yarn and pulled it until he became completely unraveled. Thanks to her, he didn’t know which end was up, what day it was or what the hell was wrong with him. Frustrated and angry, trembling and sweating, with his heart thundering against his ribs and his blood roaring through his ears, he knew he was dangerously out of control, but he couldn’t make himself care.

  He should have stayed in Seattle. That much was clear now. It was also painfully clear, every time he looked at Maria’s mostly bare body in her lust-inducing little blue tank top and teeny-tiny shorts, that he should have kept his butt in his room tonight. But he’d heard Maria come down to the kitchen and, knowing she was here, h
e couldn’t stay up there.

  As for his whole misguided apology about the Jag, well, that just proved how far gone he was. It had always been this way. Three seconds in Maria’s intoxicating presence and he lost whatever common sense he may have had. What kind of respectable, ruthless, revenge-seeking person, such as himself, apologized as soon as he made his victim squirm a little? Would Machiavelli have apologized? Hell, no. So, okay, maybe he wasn’t Machiavelli. The inherent nice guy in him had insisted he try to make amends, so he’d tried. Reaching out to her had been a noble but doomed idea, much like the ridiculous scheme he’d once read about where someone tried to dispose of a whale carcass on the beach by blowing it up.

  Well, fine. He should never have come back to Cincinnati, and he should never have come down to the kitchen tonight. But he was here now and, by God, he’d do whatever he had to do to get some answers from her before the sun lit the morning sky.

  Wide-eyed and motionless, she stared at him. Her hyperalert stance and serrated breathing told him she’d like nothing better than to turn and run, but he didn’t care about what she’d like. She could run to Alaska if she wanted to, and he’d be right on her tail. She wouldn’t get away from him. Not tonight.

  “Explanation?” she said softly, looking confused. “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  Damn her. Every time she opened her mouth and spoke was painful to him, a searing, jabbing stick to the eye. Without conscious thought he grabbed her upper arm and jerked her. “That won’t work,” he said. “Not tonight, Ree-Ree.”

  With a cry, she flung him off or he let her go, he wasn’t sure which. “Don’t you call me that. Don’t you ever…call me that…again.”

  Watching her vibrate with tension and run her hands up and down her arms as if she felt cold, satisfaction, hard and powerful, began to replace some of his frustration. Now who was becoming unraveled? The pretty princess wasn’t so aloof anymore, was she?

  “Why not, Ree-Ree?” He kept his voice light and his tone nonchalant. “Don’t want any little reminders of our summer together? Oh, but you forgot about our time together years ago, didn’t you? So it shouldn’t matter what I call you, should it?”

  “Forgot?”she spat, her face incredulous. “Ididn’t forget. Youforgot.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t forget.”

  How dare she project her own bad behavior onto him? Did she think he’d let her get away with that kind of hypocrisy? A burning fury consumed him, so powerful it clouded his vision and judgment and made him want to incinerate her along with himself. Ignoring her lies, bent only on punishing her—humiliatingher—he did what he always wanted to do. Reaching out a hand, he touched her, trailing his fingers across all that silky, heaving flesh at the top of her tank top.

  “Did Harper call you Ree-Ree?”

  Struck dumb, she went rigid and stared at him. The strangest little strangled sound came through her dewy lips and he knew he’d broken through to a part of Maria that she’d buried long ago and didn’t want him to reach.

  Unfortunately the touch affected him as much as, if not more than, it affected her. His heartbeat, which had been strong and sure up until now, skittered, missing every other beat, and his groin tightened beyond all endurance. She’d always done this to him. She’d always owned him like this. He moved closer, running his fingers over her shoulder and down her arm, wishing he could take her—right here, right now—on the floor, the counter, the table, up against the door—and slake just a little of his bottomless hunger for her.

  “What are you talking about?” she gasped.

  “On your wedding night?” he continued conversationally, as furious with himself as he was with her. That twisted combination of lust and anger battled within him, neither winning. All he knew was he had to touch her, and had to have an explanation from her. His continued sanity—if indeed he had any left—required it. “What did he call you when you were consummating your marriage? Hmm?”

  “Don’t.”

  Panting now, she raised her chin and looked up at him with dazed, glittering eyes. He shifted closer and slid his hand to her waist, enjoying the thrilling, satiny curve of her hip right beneath her shorts. Underneath his fingers he felt her becoming pliant, softening and opening to him, and felt her desire as painfully as he felt his own. When he squeezed gently, she whimpered; the sound drove him out of his mind.

  Lowering his head, he whispered in her ear and let his nose graze the fragrant hair that had always smelled so intoxicatingly of lemons and flowers. He pulled her closer, running his lips across her cheek toward the delicious mouth he needed with such desperation.

  “Did he touch you like this, Ree-Ree? When you were screwing your new husband? Did you melt for him the way you melt for me?”

  The sensual spell between them broke with a violent crack as she ripped free of his grip and slapped him so hard across the face that his head whipped around. For a stunned moment he didn’t know what’d happened, but then the sting and the sound cleared his head, sweeping out the lust and leaving only the fury. When she raised her hand to hit him again, he grabbed her wrist and wrenched her arm until it was behind her back and out of his way. He did not let go of her.

  “Tell me why you married Harper,”he roared, not caring if he woke everyone in the tristate area. “You oweme an explanation. You tell me why—”

  “I don’t owe you anything!” A wild, primal light flashed in her eyes and she struggled so hard against him he could barely hold on to her. “I don’t owe you anything!You walked out on me! You leftme!”

  Letting go of her wrist, he grabbed both her shoulders and shook her. “You ripped my guts out!”

  “No!”

  “Do you understand that?” he cried, shaking her again to be sure he had her attention. “You told me you loved me, and you pretended you were devastated, and the next thing I know you’re walking down the aisle with Harper. You owe me an explanation!”

  Again she wrenched free, but stood firm, tipping her face up to give as good as she got. “Yeah, I loved you,” she yelled, her entire body trembling with outrage. “I gave you my little twenty-three-year-old heart on a silver platter, and what did you do? Did you tell me you loved me back? No-ooo! You gave me that same tired story about how you weren’t at a point in your life where you could handle a serious relationship, and blah, blah, blah. You couldn’t get out of here fast enough! You practically ran back to Philly just to get away from me! And I wanted to die! I wanted to die!”

  “Really?”he said in the nastiest tone he could manage. “So is that the new cure for suicidal thoughts these days? You have a broken heart and you want to die, so you marry some other guy? Do the medical journals know about this?”

  With a cry of rage, she raised her hand to slap him again, and he blocked her. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “You walked out on me!” she screeched, flapping her arms wildly enough to throw her back out of alignment. “Why shouldn’t I have married George? Youdidn’t want me! Why shouldn’t I be with someone who did?”

  “Why didn’t you wait?I told you I’d be back and I—”

  “Wait? Wait?” With an ugly, hysterical laugh she smacked herself upside the head, and when she spoke again it was in a hateful singsong. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that? I guess my mind-reading skills aren’t what they should be. You weren’t leaving me forever—”

  “I told you I’d be back.”

  “—and all I had to do was wait four years until you showed up on my doorstep again to reclaim me. Gosh.” She shook her head as if amazed by her own foolishness. “Why didn’t I just wait like a good little girl? Four years isn’t so long! Why didn’t I have faith? You saidyou’d be back, so I—”

  “I didcome back! I saw you! I saw you!”

  Maria flinched as if he’d thrown bleach in her face. “Wha—?”

  The pain of that night erupted out of him as though it had happened ten minutes ago. “You didn’t know that, Maria, did you?” he sne
ered. “I went back to school and was so sick from missing you that I couldn’t stand it anymore. So you know what I did? Do you? I went to my adviser and told him I wanted to transfer to a school in or near Cincinnati—”

  Maria’s eyes went wide with astonishment and her hand flew to her neck, circling it.

  “—and then I hopped the next plane back here. Only guess what? My timing wasn’t so good.” He snapped his fingers. “Damn it, I hate when that happens.”

  Her stricken gaze stayed riveted on his face.

  “Guess what night it was, Maria?” He paused, waiting for an answer that never came. “What? Don’t you want to play? Well, that’s okay. I’ll tell you anyway. It was the night of your wedding rehearsal.”

  “Oh, God,” she moaned.

  “That’s right, Ree-Ree.I had to sneak in because you hadn’t sent me an invitation. I guess it slipped your mind, huh?”

  Backing up a couple of steps, she reached out for the table and sagged against it, as if her legs wouldn’t hold her any longer.

  “Imagine my surprise when I looked up at the head table and figured out who the guests of honor were. That was a painful moment, let me tell you—”

  “Stop it!”

  “But luckily Ellis was there—”

  “My father?”

  “—and he reassured me that you were in good hands because Georgehad the money to take care of you, you’d never been happier than you were with George—”

  “No.”

  “—and Georgewas the only man he wanted to be his son-in-law. And you know what, Maria? I looked at your smiling face, and saw how you and George were all touchy with each other, and I looked around at all the finery—what’d the party cost that night? A hundred large? One—fifty?—and I figured Ellis was right. I didn’t fit in with that crowd, did I? So I chalked it up to a lesson learned and I hopped on a plane and went back to Philly. End of story.”