The Bitter Price Of Love

by Amanda Browning

  ‘You should be,’ he responded obliquely, and, the seatbelt sign going off at that moment, got to his feet. ‘I’m going to change. Make yourself at home. Beth will get you anything you want.’

  Reba watched him disappear through a door and sank back miserably into the comfortable seat. This was worse than she had imagined. Hunter was behaving very oddly, and she…She was making a hash of everything!

  ‘Can I get you something to drink?’ The stewardess’s enquiry made her jump, and she was just about to ask for a stiff brandy when she caught sight of the man who re-entered the cabin.

  ‘What’s your preference, Reba?’ Hunter asked sardonically—a vastly different Hunter in silk shirt and tie, handmade shoes, and the trousers of what must surely be an expensive Italian suit. When she remained silent, his lips quirked. ‘Thank you, Beth, we’ll both have brandy.’ Having dismissed the young woman, he sat down opposite Reba, crossing his legs casually, regarding her with mocking amusement.

  ‘Do you approve?’ he taunted, taking the two glasses the returning stewardess held out.

  Reba took the drink he proffered, catching the flash of gold cuff-links, and recognising the gold Rolex on his wrist. ‘You look…different.’ A stranger. Handsome, but not the man she knew. It was as if the donning of expensive clothes had put a barrier between them—keeping them apart. She knew it was deliberate, and took a sip of the fiery liquid out of sheer desperation, but although it burned, she remained frozen inside.

  His eyes laughed at her over the top of his glass as he took an appreciative mouthful of the brandy. ‘How else would you expect the owner of Backbay Marine to look, tiger-eyes?’

  She raised a trembling hand to rub a sudden throbbing in her temple. ‘Why?’

  Those blue eyes didn’t waver from hers. ‘I thought you would like proof that I really can afford you,’ he revealed, daring her to respond.

  ‘I never doubted it. Eliot said it was the best.’

  He smiled at that. ‘It is. It earns me a very great deal of money. So you really can have anything you want.’

  Anything? I want your love, was the cry from her heart, and that’s the one thing you won’t ever give me now!

  ‘Well?’

  Was he waiting for a list? Reba glanced down at the brandy she still held, and set the glass aside with a grimace of distaste. ‘I don’t want anything.’

  Hunter looked doubtful. ‘No? What about a mink coat, or a Porsche? I could probably buy you a condo somewhere, but it would have to be convenient. I wouldn’t want to travel far every time I needed to see you. You’ll have to tell me which designers you prefer, so that I can open up accounts for you. Have I missed anything?’ he challenged bitingly.

  Reba wondered if there was ever to be an end to the misery they could bring each other. He was cutting her pride to shreds, and hot tears burned the backs of her eyes. ‘Damn you, shut up!’ she cried, driven to the end of her rope, and not caring who heard.

  ‘In a minute. You’re forgetting this.’ His hand slid into his trouser pocket and drew out a cheque-book and pen. He flipped open the cover, and she watched as he filled out the necessary details, signing the cheque with a flourish before tearing it out and offering it to her.

  She stared at it as if it were about to jump up and bite her, and it was incredibly hard to reach out and take it. To find he did not immediately release it brought her darkened gaze to his. What now? What further refinement was he thinking of?

  ‘You know, this is rather an odd amount to ask for. In fact, it sounds more like an exact amount. Care to comment on that?’ he asked mildly.

  Her stomach lurched, and she knew that her eyes widened anxiously. ‘No,’ she refused huskily.

  His eyebrows rose. ‘Just the first number which came into your head?’

  She was reduced to monosyllables. ‘Yes.’

  Finally he released the cheque. ‘Interesting.’ He rose to his feet and stretched. They might have been discussing the weather, for all the concern he showed. ‘Enjoy the rest of the flight. We should be landing in an hour.’

  Reba didn’t relax the tight control she had on herself until she heard the cockpit door close behind him. Then her breath left her on a shaky sigh which was half a sob, and she let her head fall back against the seat. Tears scorched the backs of her eyes, and she pressed a hand to her lips to hold back another threatening sob. It wouldn’t help to cry. Nothing could ease the pain inside. It was incredible to believe that, although they had loved each other so much, a few careless words had brought them to this.

  She wanted to go to him and say, Listen to me, I can explain. But he wouldn’t believe her. How could he, after all that had been said and done? Wouldn’t he just laugh if she swore she loved him? Wouldn’t he just die if she begged him to love her again the way he had before? She wanted to do it, and if she had been free to do so she might have risked his scorn and tried it anyway, because she really had little pride left. If there were just the faintest chance, she might take it—if she were free. But she wasn’t. Too much depended on her, and that would stop her every time.

  A single tear tracked a path down her cheek, but she didn’t have the strength to brush it away.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ON THE following Friday Reba got an unexpected telephone call. She had parted from Hunter at the airport at the beginning of the week, and hadn’t heard anything from him since. He had said he would ring her, but since then, nothing. She didn’t know what to make of it. However much she might dislike the situation, she was prepared to keep her side of the bargain, and the days of waiting were doing her no good whatsoever.

  So when the telephone rang that morning, she was fully expecting to hear his voice at the other end of the line. It turned out, however, to belong to someone employed at her bank. The message it delivered stunned her so much that it didn’t sink in, and she had to ask for it to be repeated.

  ‘I’m afraid I have to tell you the cheque you recently deposited with us has been cancelled. The money cannot be credited to your account. As the amount was quite large, we thought it best to advise you immediately so that you can take any necessary action,’ the voice obligingly repeated, not knowing what a blow it was delivering.

  Reba knew, and her blood ran cold. ‘Thank you,’ she said, automatically polite, returning the receiver to its rest, while the enormity of what she had heard expanded to fill her. As it did so, shock turned to anger.

  Hunter had cancelled the cheque! She couldn’t believe it, and yet she knew it was true. Why, dammit? Why? Why? Why? God, after all she had had to go through, how dared he do this to her! It had to be revenge. He had changed his mind, but instead of telling her immediately, he had deceived her. Lulled her into a false sense of security out of a simple lust for revenge! No wonder she hadn’t heard from him! He knew she would get the message very soon!

  Her hands balled into impotent fists, nails scoring into her palms as she digested the niceties of his plan. Her anger boiled over at the sense of betrayal. She hadn’t thought him capable of such a thing. It was murder, cold-blooded murder, and she was damned if she would let him get away with it.

  Coldly furious, she grabbed up the telephone and spent the next few minutes trying to find a telephone number for him. Finally she was given the number of Backbay Marine, and her fingers jabbed it out. As soon as the ringing was answered, she barked out her request.

  ‘I want to speak to Hunter Jamieson.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but Mr Jamieson is not here today,’ a polite female voice replied.

  ‘Damn!’ Reba bit her lip hard at the disappointment. ‘Do you know where he is? Can I reach him somewhere?’

  ‘I’m afraid I can’t say. Shall I take your name and ask him to call you?’

  Reba knew she was being given a polite brush-off and wasn’t prepared to accept it. ‘Listen, this is a matter of life and death. I have to contact him immediately!’ she declared forcefully, knowing it wasn’t a lie, and might very well be more true than she cared
to think about.

  The voice at the other end hesitated. ‘Well, if it’s an emergency…?’

  ‘Of course it’s an emergency. I wouldn’t be ringing otherwise, would I?’ Reba shot back with heavy irony, hoping the other woman wouldn’t call that into question.

  Fortunately she didn’t. ‘I have an address, but no telephone number. I can try to find one if you’d care to wait.’

  ‘No, no, just the address will do,’ she said quickly, and jotted it down hurriedly. With a brief word of thanks, she slammed the receiver down and stared at the piece of paper. Just you wait, Hunter Jamieson. Just you wait, she promised, and dashed off to change.

  The address was that of an advertising agency. Reba took the elevator to the fifteenth floor a little before ten-thirty. She had taken the time to put on make-up, and was glad she had chosen to wear cream trousers and a navy silk blouse, for the receptionist who greeted her with a friendly smile, was immaculately turned out.

  ‘You’re Reba Wyeth—I recognised you instantly. But I don’t think you have an appointment with us today, do you?’ Concern that she might have made a mistake was mixed with polite enquiry as she studied the appointment diary in front of her.

  ‘I don’t have an appointment, but I have come to see Hunter Jamieson. I was told he was here,’ Reba explained in a tight voice, nails beating out a rapid tattoo on the desk-top.

  The receptionist looked justifiably confused. ‘Why, yes, he is here. Down in the board-room.’ She pointed along a carpeted corridor, and Reba needed no further encouragement. She headed in that direction, followed by the cries of the receptionist trying to call her back.

  She didn’t bother to knock on the door, and was about to walk right in when it opened ahead of her, revealing a smiling young man who very nearly bumped into her, ‘Thanks,’ she flung at him as she brushed past into the room.

  The man’s smile turned to a frown as he followed her. ‘Can I help you?’ he demanded sternly, trying to get ahead of her to stop her.

  Reba didn’t spare him a glance; her mind was set on another quarry. ‘No. I’m looking for——’

  ‘Me,’ Hunter supplied, moving out from where the open door had been shielding him from her. ‘It’s OK, Sandy, I’ll deal with Miss Wyeth.’

  Sandy glanced round, obviously recognising the name. His antennae told him this was something he would be well out of. ‘OK, Hunter, you know where to find me if you need me,’ he conceded, and departed in good order, but not without a backward glance of keen curiosity.

  Hunter shut the door behind him, locking it and pocketing the key. He looked perfectly relaxed as he leant back against the wood, hands in pockets and feet crossed at the ankles.

  ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?’ he queried mildly, bringing angry colour to Reba’s pale cheeks.

  ‘Don’t play with me! You know damn well why I’m here! Damn you, Hunter, I could kill you for what you’ve done!’ she cried furiously.

  Smiling faintly, he studied the tip of one highly polished shoe. ‘Ah, you know about the cheque.’

  The fact he didn’t deny it took her aback, and her throat tightened. ‘They rang me this morning. Dear God, do you hate me so much that you could do such a thing?’ she cried, feeling anger being swamped by other, more painful, emotions. Suddenly she was on the verge of tears.

  Hunter crossed his arms and studied her carefully. ‘If I hated you, tiger-eyes, I would have let you cash the cheque,’ he said softly, taking her breath away.

  Reba blinked, staring at him hard. That made no sense. ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded, the feeling growing that, in the space of a few minutes, this meeting had got away from her.

  ‘I mean you’re making an awful lot of fuss about a cheque given to you for…services rendered,’ Hunter replied easily, bringing shamed colour to her cheeks at his choice of words.

  It was enough to have her forgetting caution. ‘So would you if you needed the money!’ she snarled back, then gasped as she realised what she had said. Oh God! ‘Open that door and let me out!’ she ordered immediately, desperately needing to retreat and regroup her forces.

  Hunter shook his head. ‘What do you need the money for, Reba?’

  Her jaw set. ‘None of your business. Let me out!’

  Unimpressed, he fixed her with a gimlet eye. ‘Not until you tell me what you needed it for.’

  Crossing her arms defiantly, Reba refused to look at him. ‘I lied.’

  ‘Then you aren’t interested in a proposition I have to make?’

  ‘Another proposition? Boy, you don’t give up, do you?’ she jeered, and stormed away to the window, staring sightlessly at the traffic crawling down below.

  ‘You’ve not heard this one before.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it now,’ she retorted, then jumped in surprise as his hand swung her round. She hadn’t heard him move, but he was now right beside her.

  ‘You’re going to hear it anyway,’ he decided, supremely in control.

  She raised a mocking eyebrow. ‘Really? Well, the answer is no, so you can save your breath to coo! your porridge.’

  Hunter drew in a deep breath, eyes flashing a warning it would be as well for her to heed. ‘You know, it would give me a great deal of satisfaction to put you over my knee and whale the tar out of you!’

  ‘Lay one finger on me and I’ll have you charged with assault!’

  Hunter smiled, then reached out one finger, placed it against the centre of her chest and pushed. ‘Shut up and sit down, Reba. You should never refuse a deal until you know what’s on offer.’

  She slapped his hand away, going to the chair only because it put some distance between them. ‘All right, I’m listening,’ she declared, finally sitting down.

  Hunter came round to perch on the corner of the desk, one leg swinging free. From the inside pocket of his jacket, he produced two pieces of paper. ‘I have here a cheque for a million dollars and a marriage licence. You can have the money, but only if you marry me.’

  Shock had followed upon shock so rapidly recently that she hadn’t thought it possible to feel more, but this shattered her composure totally, and she trembled in reaction. ‘What?’

  There was the faintest curve to the corner of his mouth, but his blue eyes were shuttered. ‘You heard me. I’m giving you everything your gold-digging little heart desires. Say you’ll marry me, and all I have to do is pick up the phone and an account will be opened in your name. All that money will be yours to do with as you wish, no questions asked,’ he informed her calmly, and Reba gasped.

  A million dollars? It was practically everybody’s dream, and yet she hated the very mention of it. For it told her just what he thought of her. She didn’t want his money, she wanted his love. He was offering her everything but that and, although her need was desperate, she couldn’t take it. Not from him. She loved him too much to do it. If she accepted, he would always think it was because of the money, and he’d never believe she loved him. And, when the passion faded, all that would be left was his contempt. She just couldn’t do it.

  That brought her head up. Standing on very shaky legs, she crossed over to him and held out her hand. ‘Give me the cheque,’ she ordered hoarsely, and when, after the briefest hesitation, he handed it to her, she quickly tore it into tiny pieces and flung them in his face. ‘I don’t want a million dollars, and I won’t marry you. All I want is what I asked for. Are you going to give it to me?’ she challenged as firmly as she could.

  Hunter’s face was shuttered once more. Reaching into his pocket, he took out the key as he stood up. ‘No, I’m not,’ he refused calmly.

  Shaken, Reba pressed her lips together to stop their trembling. ‘Then damn you, Hunter!’ she cursed, and made a grab for the key.

  Unfortunately he was quicker than she, closing his fingers around it and catching hold of her wrist in a vice-like grip. ‘You’re going nowhere unless it’s with me, tiger-eyes,’ he commanded, pulling her after him towards the door.
r />   ‘Let me go!’ she shouted, as he unlocked the barrier and flung it wide.

  ‘Never!’ Hunter retorted grimly, towing her along in his wake as he headed for the lift.

  As he punched the button, she flashed him a glare and tried to prise his fingers loose, but they stuck like glue. ‘I don’t ever want to see you again! Do you hear me? Not ever!’ she cried passionately, uncaring of the gaping faces which stared after them.

  The lift arrived and he hauled her in with him, quickly hitting the garage button. ‘Tough. You’re stuck with me, sweets. At least for another couple of hours. After that, we’ll see if you’ve changed your mind,’ he informed her tersely, bundling her struggling form out into the virtually deserted garage level, where a chauffeur nimbly climbed from a limousine to hold open the rear door while Hunter pushed her inside. Then the door was shut behind them, and only when the driver was back in his seat, and the central locking in force, did he let her go.

  Hugging the corner of the seat, Reba rubbed her maltreated wrist. ‘I hate you!’

  Hunter crossed his legs and sent her a mocking glance. ‘I hate you too.’

  His indifference took the wind out of her sails, leaving her crumpled up with her own misery. How had she been brought to this? Where was he taking her? Nothing was going the way it should have done, and she no longer knew what was going on. If it had been anyone else but Hunter, she would have been frightened, but fear had no place in the seething cauldron of emotions which brewed inside her.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’

  His lips twitched. ‘For a ride in the country. My treat.’

  ‘I don’t accept treats from two-faced Indian-givers!’ Reba snapped back instantly.

  ‘Well, I don’t enjoy giving them to liars, tiger-eyes,’ he responded.

  ‘I didn’t lie!’ she gasped.

  ‘Not much!’ Hunter snorted.

  ‘We had a deal!’ she reminded him sickly, heart thudding wildly in her chest.

  Hunter laughed. ‘We had a hell of a lot more than that!’ he said meaningfully, holding her golden eyes with his blue ones until hers were forced to drop.