Flirting with Revenge

by Kristel Ralston

  Rachel pulled away in a rage.

  “When did you find the time to do that kind of research, Mr. Whitmore?”

  “I see I have your full attention, finally.” It would be a waste of time to tell her that, before he left for Maine, he’d hired a private detective to find any useful information about Ariel Galloway. He did not expect the problem with the property. But he welcomed the information because it had been useful. “Thank you for that.”

  “My aunt is the most important person in my life. Don’t you dare mess with her in any way.”

  “Or what?”

  She pointed a finger at him, waving it in the air like a sword.

  “I’ll spend every penny I have to fight for her rights.”

  “I would not want the mother of my child to live in misery.”

  “You’re a bull-headed oaf. You exist to hurt me. When are you going to stop?” she spat out and hurried away.

  Michael followed her at a good pace. He was dying to see the changes that were taking place in Rachel’s body because she looked like she always did. Except for her hair. She’d cut it. The style suited her. She was a gorgeous woman. He wanted to know what she felt during her pregnancy. To place his head on the belly that carried the miracle of life within it, and try to hear his child. Care for her. But he could not rush it.

  Rachel dropped her sandals on the porch and ran up the stairs. She opened the door to her room and got in the shower, making sure the door was closed. When she came back down, Michael was sitting in the living room waiting for her, is if this was his house. Why could not aunt Ariel come back soon and throw him out?

  “When you agree to give me your time,” he told her. “That’s the answer to the question you asked on the beach, Rachel Veronica Galloway.”

  Her arms fell to her sides.

  She looked beautiful, with her hair brushed back, not a drop of makeup on her face. In the jeans and plain blouse she wore, he could notice the changes to her breasts and a slight widening of her hips. She was curvier. And sexy as hell.

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ve explained that already.”

  “Blackmail, huh?” she said, her arms wrapped around herself. Michael shrugged. She realized she had no way out. “Is this the way you’re taking your vengeance on me, just like I tried to do to you? Are you applying the law of retaliation? An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth?”

  He laughed.

  “If you want to put it that way, then yes. Revenge is sweet, you know?”

  “Tell me what you want, Michael,” she cut in. She hated his haughty tone. Seeing him again was making her relive her agony.

  “I want you to come with me, to my beach house, for a week.”

  “The era of concubines ended a long time ago. And if you don’t agree, you found the wrong woman.”

  He smiled.

  “You did not let me finish my request, Rachel.” She clenched her jaw. “I want you to come to my beach house. And I especially want us to talk.”

  “That’s what we’re doing... Oh, no, that’s not true. You’re blackmailing me.”

  “You used those words, not me. In any case, you owe me time. And I want that week. I’m working on my study. I have no assistant and there are many things to do.”

  “And you think I’m a willing servant?”

  “If you can stand to work for me, for one week, I promise you’ll never hear from me again. Except to give my last name to the baby, on the day it’s born. I’ll be there for every birthday, school play, every important moment, Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Do you think you can manage that? After all, it’s a fair deal.”

  Rachel looked at him warily.

  “I can manage many things, but I also have to see things at my own office once in a while. I’m on vacation, but I promised Paul I’d be available in case he needed me. Besides, I don’t understand what you’re doing in Maine when you should be in your shiny office building, working.”

  Michael stood up.

  “I took a well-deserved vacation, but I like to work a bit so I’m not off my game. And since we casually coincided here,” he said mockingly, “I think it’s fair to ask you the favor of working for me. I’ll pay you, of course, and then there’s also the issue of my convenient silence about your aunt Ariel’s property,” he finished sarcastically.

  “You took a trip to the East Coast when you could have gone to more interesting, lively places, only because you found a way to make me pay for lying to you, for having sent that letter to Dereck...? Your vengeance is to have me work for you so you can humiliate me? Is it that?” she asked, her eyes flashing with rage. “You must really despise me to go through all that trouble.”

  He cocked his head to the side.

  “I’m only asking for your help, and in exchange for that time helping me, which I think is fair under the circumstances, I’ll pay you for the week’s work.”

  “You said you wanted nothing more to do with me, and now you’re asking for my time. Either you smoked some illegal substance, or you’re starting to lose your mind.”

  “It’s not vengeance, Rachel,” he said, coming close to her and lifting her chin so she would look him in the eyes. He did not respond to her comment, because she’d get those answers much, much later. “It’s revenge. There’s a big difference.”

  She pushed his hand away. Not because she did not like his touch, on the contrary. It burnt her and sent flaming sparks deep into her core; it aroused that stubborn part of her that refused to stop wanting him close to her. As if her hormones were connected to a switch that made them crazy and uncontrollable. ‘Treacherous body!’

  “Illuminate me, please, oh magnificent lawyer,” she retorted haughtily.

  Michael leaned towards her until their lips almost touched. Almost.

  “Vengeance is bitter, but revenge is sweet, Rachel.” He stepped back and smiled at her. “Very sweet.” He walked to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Be there at ten in the morning. Mrs. Arondale will cook. I don’t expect you to do that, of course.”

  “Of course,” she repeated reluctantly.

  CHAPTER 18

  During the first four days, Rachel found it easy to help Michael. He did not bring up any subject that caused friction between them. He was straight-forward and, truthfully, he worked at a fast pace, which allowed her to get everything done quickly. He was not a despot, and he did not make her feel inadequate when she did not know a legal term, or could not understand a highly specialized document.

  She did not remember much about Michael’s house in Maine, but she liked the decoration. It was clean and bright. It seemed to have been painted recently because the smell of the paint was still perceptible in some corners. Or, more likely, her heightened senses were more alert to smells than before the pregnancy.

  Michael did not try to approach her more than he needed to. He did not touch her, but she felt his eyes when she thought she did not notice. When he asked her to help him with something related to numbers, she had to come close, and the scent of his usual cologne drove her crazy. She would quickly move away from him. It felt like torture, but he never tried anything. At seven in the evening, he would ask her to stay for dinner, they chatted about unimportant things, and then she went home to her aunt Ariel.

  Her aunt wasn’t surprised when Rachel told her that Michael was around and only told her to enjoy her vacation. It was surprising that her aunt had nothing else to say since Ariel normally had very strong opinions. Maybe she was tired of hearing her sorrowfully walk the hallways at night, or of looking at her anxious face in the morning, indecisive about the day ahead.

  “Rachel. I have lunch at noon today. Do you think you can finish organizing the files on my desk? They’re faxes I’ve been sent. Too many, and right now I have to go run an errand before lunch...”

  “Sure.”

  ***

  It was five o’clock in the afternoon, and Michael wasn’t back. She wasn’t feeling very well that day. She went to t
he kitchen for a glass of water, which seemed to calm her down. She returned to the living room and rearranged the logs in the fireplace. There was no central heating, which she liked, though Michael sometimes complained in the evening.

  The days seemed to fly past. In another seventy-two hours, she would not have to see Michael again. She wondered if she’d imagined his intentions. It was strange. He confused her. He was acting in an unexpected way, while she was slowly buried by the anguish of wanting to getaway. If it weren’t for her aunt Ariel, she would have refused to comply with Michael’s stupid request. Besides, who could he be having lunch with, so far from Chicago? No, no, no.

  She put the fire iron down and moved back. At that moment, the front door opened and Michael walked in. He wore a blue shirt and darker trousers. He was extraordinarily elegant.

  “Hello... is everything in order?” he asked, hanging his jacket on the coat rack next to the door. “It’s awfully cold out.”

  She smiled.

  “Yes. I finished what you asked me to do. I was stoking the fire and...” she said, and suddenly stopped. A dizzy spell. It has happened before, so she did not worry about it. “I finished early today.” She was dizzy again. This time she stretched out her hand to prop herself against the chimney, but her arm went limp. “I... Michael...”

  He reacted immediately and managed to catch her before she could hurt herself or get burned by the fire. He took her in his arms. The sofa looked too uncomfortable, so he carried her up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He opened his bedroom door and placed her in the middle of the bed.

  “Rachel?” he called her.

  God, she felt terrible. Everything was spinning. She kept her eyes closed. As far as she could remember, she’d had breakfast. Or had she? Yogurt and fruit. She did not plan on turning into a whale with the excuse of eating for two. No, thank you. She had to stay healthy, not blow like a balloon.

  “Hmmm,” she whimpered. Why could not he shut up and leave her alone? She only wanted to close her eyes for a bit longer. Suddenly she felt confused, silly, and she hoped her hormones would not betray her and make her cry. Because she was very sensitive, and the presence of that complicated man-made it worse.

  “Darling, open your eyes, would you?”

  ‘Had Michael called her darling? More than passed out, she must have gone insane.’

  “I don’t’ know what happened...” she whispered, opening her eyes. She found Michael leaning over her. “You can back off now,” she said sluggishly, but in a combative tone. It was how she protected herself from him. “I’m not going to die in your house, you won’t be sued for...”

  “Rachel, stop this,” he insisted. “I’m calling a doctor.”

  She took his wrist.

  “No. This happens sometimes. The gynecologist told me it was not uncommon, maybe my blood sugar was too low... Michael, I can keep...” murmured Rachel desperately. “Please Michael... I...”

  He sighed.

  “You scared me... Are you sure you don’t want me to call the local doctor?” She shook her head. “Then, to make sure you’re all right, and the baby too, please stay the night here at home.”

  She shook her head vigorously and tried to sit up. He stopped her, putting his hand on her arm. Rachel let herself fall back into the pillows.”

  “I have to go. I’ll feel better tomorrow, and I’ll come back. There are only three days left in our agreement, so...”

  “The hell with those three days, Rachel. Why do you think I’m here, in the middle of nowhere, instead of my beloved city?”

  “Revenge...?”

  Michael looked at her. She stretched out his hand as if to caress her face, but he stopped himself.

  “I’ve never had to fight for a woman’s love. I always got whomever I wanted, but in reality, I’ve never loved it. I practically blackmailed Delaney to find out where you were the Saturday I went looking for you at your apartment. I felt furious, impotent. You dropped the news of your pregnancy on me and left me in shock. I did not react in time, and you probably took it the wrong way.” She only nodded; she could not believe what she was hearing. “Rachel... I came to you. Because I know that I’ve caused a lot of pain. That I hurt you with my words that night. And when I did, I also tortured myself immensely. Because I also lied to you....”

  “I... don’t know what to say.”

  “Just hear me out, and then you can decide what to do...” She nodded. “I wanted to talk to you on the beach, but I know you’re hurt. I deserve it if you never want to hear from me again. I treated you terribly, and I feel worse than you could imagine. Coming to Maine and asking you for time was an audacity on my part. Blackmailing you with Ariel’s house was too, but tell me something: Would you have come to my house, would you have agreed to talk to me, when you haven’t even answered my calls or texts?” Rachel shook her head, moved by Michael’s words, by the determined and desperate look in his eyes. It was a look he’d never had before. “So, I organized everything at the office, and as soon as I could I flew here. To see you. For you. Because I need you to know that I love you, Rachel. Getting you to work for me was just my way of trying to interact with you. Trying to make you feel at ease, but I see I did not exactly manage it...”

  “Michael...”

  He looked at her passionately and took her hand.

  “I lied when I said you’d just been another fling, just one more from the pile. You never could have been that. The day you came into my life, no matter your name or identity, you ruined me for any other woman.”

  “I saw you at a restaurant with someone else and...” she whispered, moving her thumb over Michael’s fingers, which held her own.

  “One more blunder to add to my list of mistakes.”

  “Did she and you...”

  “No, I did not have sex with her.” he exhaled. “I’ve been so busy trying to forget you, billing more hours than ever at the office, that the last thing I could do was have the energy to try to be with a woman who wasn’t you.”

  “Because I’m pregnant?”

  Michael lowered his eyes. He leaned towards her and held her cheek in the palm of his left hand.

  “Because I love you, Rachel. I want you. I’m crazy about you. So crazy that I’m capable of doing the stupidest things, like coming here and painting the house, to try to remind you of the first night we met. That night was special for me, and I hope that, in some way, it was for you. Because that was our beginning because I don’t want us to have an end if it’s not together.”

  “If I hadn’t gone to see you, we would not have ever found each other again.”

  “Hypotheses have never ended well for us, so let’s not think of what we would have done, and think about what we will do.”

  “Which is...?” asked Rachel, biting her lower lip.

  “First, I want you to know that I don’t hold a grudge. That I understand your past, your intentions, and that I know they weren’t the best when you started getting close to me. But that brought us back together, and I’ll not be grateful for that. My beautiful, blue-eyed Rachel. Second, I want you to forgive me and tell me we can start again... please,” he said fervently.

  “Does the part where I tell you that I love you, that I never stopped loving you, and that I’m in love with you, not interest you at all?”

  The smile of relief and love Rachel saw on Michael’s face made her heartbeat. As if it could finally pump at its usual rhythm, instead of dejectedly and monotonously. Once again, it was pulsing in her chest with renewed vigor.

  He leaned towards her and kissed her. Rachel received it with a sigh, half relief, half liberation. Michael’s kiss was pure need and love. When their mouths met again, after three long months, the world seemed to explode around them. The breadth and strength of the love they felt for each other was a passionate wave that swept away any other emotion that could have existed between them.

  Michael wanted to do more than kiss her, but he had a pressing issue. Several, actually, and
very important. He reluctantly broke away and pressed his forehead against hers.

  “It interests me terribly, my love,” he replied. “But first, there’s something I planned to give you at the end of the week. In fact, I had it prepared before I flew here.”

  “Yes?”

  He nodded and left the room for a few minutes.

  She waited for Michael to come back. She was brimming with uncertainty and curiosity, but also an indescribable relief because finally, three long months of loneliness and anguish were coming to an end.

  He came up to her and handed her a two-page document.

  “Please, read it.”

  Rachel propped herself up on the bed. She sat very close to him as if the heat coming off Michael’s body could warm her soul. She liked having him next to her.

  As she lowered her eyes to the next paragraph, Rachel could not believe what she was reading. She turned the page and saw that two people were to sign that agreement. Michael, whose signature was already plastered on the page, and her.

  She looked at him.

  “A prenuptial agreement stating that, in case you break your promises, I can use this document to take your whole fortune... You’re putting both our names on the accounts...” she put the documents on the nightstand. “Michael, why?”

  “Because I’ll have everything I really need if you agree to be my wife.”

  Tears of joy welled in her eyes immediately. She dried them off with the back of her hand. And she crossed her arms indignantly.

  “Well, I haven’t heard you ask for my hand, Mr. Whitmore,” she murmured.

  He laughed, relieved.

  “How silly of me. I had to run an errand today and I think it was a good idea.” He left the room and came back with a velvet box. He knelt next to Rachel, took her hand, and gazed at her with all the love he felt. Rachel Veronica Galloway, would you do me the honor of rescuing me from this terrible loneliness and filling my days with you, with this baby,” he put his hand on Rachel’s belly, “and the others that may come along, enduring my stubbornness and all the love I feel for you, by becoming my wife?”