Lee Wilkinson - Ryan's Revenge

‘I’m quite aware that you share his house—my detective has followed the pair of you home often enough—but knowing you as I do, I hesitate to believe that gratitude is enough to get you into his bed.’

‘It isn’t just gratitude. I happen to love him. Passionately,’ she added for good measure.

Ryan’s mocking smile told her he didn’t believe a word of it. ‘So, when did you two become lovers?’

‘Ages ago.’

‘Then, how is it you have separate bedrooms?’

‘What makes you think we have separate bedrooms?’

‘I don’t think. I know.’

‘How could you possibly know a thing like that?’ she scoffed.

‘With a bit of encouragement, the domestic help can be an excellent source of information. Mrs Crabtree, in particular, enjoys a good gossip.’

Virginia’s heart sank. Mrs Crabtree, a cheerful, garrulous woman, came in several times a week to clean and tidy.

Seeing nothing else for it, she admitted, ‘All right, so we have separate bedrooms. Charles is conventional enough to want to keep up appearances.’

‘That’s not surprising. He’s old enough to be your father.’

‘He’s nothing of the kind.’

‘Rubbish! He must be forty-five if he’s a day.’

‘Charles is forty-three. In any case, age has nothing to do with it. He’s a wonderful lover.’

Even as she spoke she felt a stab of conscience. It was hardly fair to Charles to use him in this way; perhaps she should just tell Ryan the truth… But she’d gone much too far to back down now.

Recklessly, she added, ‘And he’s not hidebound enough to believe that lovemaking should only take place in bed.’

A dangerous light in his eyes, Ryan said, ‘I hope for everyone’s sake that you’re lying.’

‘Did you seriously expect me to be living like a nun?’

‘You were when I met you.’

‘In those days I was abysmally naive and innocent. But you taught me a lot, and it’s much more difficult to give up a known pleasure.’

Watching him weighing up her words, wondering…she struck at his ego, ‘Or did you think you were the only man who could turn me on?’

‘I certainly didn’t think Raynor was your type.’

‘That just shows how wrong you can be. Charles and I are very good together. He wants to marry me.’

A dark flush appeared along Ryan’s high cheekbones. ‘Over my dead body. I’ve no intention of letting anyone else have you.’

Rattled, she found herself catching at straws. ‘But you said yourself how much I’ve changed. I’m not even pretty any longer.’

‘No, you’re not merely pretty. Now you have the kind of poignant beauty that’s haunting.’

She half shook her head. ‘Even it that were true, the world’s full of beautiful women.’

One in particular.

‘In the past I’ve had my share of beautiful women. But I find that, after you, none of them will do. It’s you I want in my bed and in my life.’

‘I don’t understand why,’ she cried desperately.

His voice cold as steel, he said, ‘For one thing, there’s a score to settle. You owe me.’

WHITE to the lips, she whispered, ‘A score to settle?’

‘Why should that surprise you? You must have known that leaving me as you did would make me look a complete and utter fool?’

She couldn’t even deny it. Part of her had wanted to pay him back. Wanted to wound him as much as he’d wounded her. Wanted to destroy his world, as he’d destroyed hers.

Afraid that he might read it in her eyes, she looked away, watching a small boy in a blue T-shirt and red shorts run towards the lake. He was clutching a shining new toy yacht, obviously a birthday present, and a stick.

As he knelt on the low parapet to launch the vessel into the water, his mother, who was wheeling a baby in a pushchair, called, ‘Be careful, Thomas. Don’t fall in. The water’s deep.’

When—his will was proving stronger than hers—Virginia’s eyes were drawn irresistibly back to Ryan’s, he pursued. ‘Apart from that, when you just disappeared and I had no idea where you were or what had happened to you, I nearly went out of my mind with worry. Since then I’ve spent two-and-a-half years and a small fortune looking for you.

‘Now I’ve found you, I want you in my bed. I want to make love to you until you’re begging for mercy and I’m sated. Then I want to start all over again. Does the thought of being made love to until you’re begging for mercy turn you on?’

Heat running through her, she said thickly, ‘No! I can’t bear the thought of you touching me.’

His handsome eyes gleamed. ‘Knowing that will give me great satisfaction, and add immeasurably to my pleasure—’

A simultaneous yelp of fright, a splash, and a high-pitched scream cut through his words.

Ryan was on his feet in an instant and running towards the lake as the woman with the pushchair continued to scream hysterically.

He said something short and sharp to her that stopped the screaming, and a second later he had cleared the parapet and had plunged into the water.

Rooted to the spot, Virginia watched him haul the small dripping figure from the lake and set him on his shoulders. Judging by the roars of fright the child was letting forth, he was mercifully uninjured.

The water was somewhere in the region of three-and-a-half feet deep, and came past Ryan’s waist, as he waded a few steps to rescue the capsized yacht.

Letting go of the pushchair, the woman, now sobbing loudly with relief, hovered, arms outstretched ready to embrace her son.

Belatedly, Virginia’s brain kicked into action, and realising that no real harm had been done, she grabbed her bag and leaving Ryan to cope, bolted.

Hurrying as fast as she could to the nearest of the park’s side entrances, she made her way between the ornate metal bollards and out onto busy Kenelm Road.

A black cab was cruising past and, hailing it, she pulled open the door and jumped in, breathing hard, her heart racing.

‘Where to, lady?’

‘Sixteen Usher Street.’

Sinking back, drenched in perspiration, she glanced in the direction of the park. There was no sign of pursuit and, starting to tremble in every limb, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks. She’d escaped.

But for how long?

Ryan knew all about her. Where she worked, where she lived, her movements… He had said he wanted her back, and he wasn’t a man to give up.

Just seeing him again had shaken her to the core, but the knowledge that he wanted her back had been even more traumatic.

It had been so entirely unexpected. Never once had she considered the possibility that he might want her back again.

It was unthinkable. The very idea made her blood turn to ice in her veins. All he wanted was revenge. He didn’t even love her.

If he’d loved her, it might have been different…

But if he’d loved her she would never have left him in the first place…

Her hectic thoughts were interrupted by the taxi turning into Usher Street and coming to a halt in front of number sixteen.

It was a quiet street of cream-stuccoed town houses with basements guarded by black wrought-iron railings, and steps leading up to elegant front doors with fluted fanlights.

Charles had inherited the house from his parents, some five years previously. A confirmed bachelor, at least until Virginia had come along, he’d talked about moving somewhere smaller, easier to manage. But in truth he was comfortable there, and it was reasonably close to the gallery.

Recalling agitatedly what Ryan had said about his detective following her, Virginia suddenly felt uncomfortable.

She scrambled out of the taxi and, having reached through the window to pay the driver, ran up the steps to let herself in.