Dani Collins - Vows of Revenge

Finally, early last year, he had begun to see parity. It wasn’t enough. Not for him. He’d risked everything and had thrown all his resources behind completely reengineered software. The gamble had paid off. Corporations were dropping the dated Gautier knockoff and stampeding to Roman’s new, far superior product.

Gautier’s bottom line had to be feeling the pinch by now. It followed that they would send in a scout, thinking to once again steal what they wanted and step back into the top position.

Like hell .

Roman wasn’t just going to win this time. He would send a message to the Gautiers they would never forget. He would crush them into nothing, starting by flattening their emissary without a shred of mercy.

His first instinct was to have Ingrid fire Melodie immediately, but he forced himself to more coolheaded contemplation. The Gautiers had let Roman believe he was on the path to success right up to the moment when they explained his services with the software design were no longer needed and they would be taking possession of his ticket to a better life.

Therefore, he would ensure he had another wedding planner in place, so there was no inconvenience to Ingrid. Melodie would lose her contract and any chance of continuing in that field. Nice of her to drop the detail that it was a new venture, he reflected. He didn’t think for a moment she was serious about making a career of wedding planning, but as with any con artist’s ruse, the Gautiers would have put funds behind making it seem real. He was glad to at least cost them their investment.

A few investigative keystrokes later, he saw that Melodie lived alone. Surprisingly modestly, he noted. So had he, back in the day, but he’d still lost his home and all he owned. He knew that his eye-for-an-eye retribution wouldn’t have the same impact. Melodie would simply run home to Daddy, but it was the right message, so he started the wheels rolling on getting her kicked out.

The final touch would be the simple, crystal clear message that they’d failed. The sweetest retaliation of all.

* * *

Melodie had clearly pulled the rookie move of plugging her phone into the charger without checking that it was properly connected. When she pulled it off, one foot out the door to meet Ingrid and Huxley and leave for Roman’s, she saw it had not only failed to charge, but had lost the 4 percent it had had. Dead as a doornail.

Sparing a moment to throw it into the safe with her passport, she wound up putting her whole purse inside. She’d take a credit card as a just-in-case, but it was only going to be a quick lunch in a private home. She didn’t need to pack a bag.

Okay, yes, her mind was racing a mile a minute and she couldn’t make a rational decision to save her life. She was not just nervous but excited. Last night with Ingrid and Huxley it had been all she could do to keep her chatter confined to the suitability of Roman’s house as a venue for the wedding. The whole time she’d been longing to pump her client for more information on Roman, but she’d managed to wait until bed before doing a bit more online snooping. Then she’d lain awake fantasizing about him—creating scenarios in her head she hadn’t ever starred in before, but wanted to with him.

A short while later, having met up with Ingrid and Huxley en route, Melodie barely kept herself from dancing in place as Roman opened his door to them.

“I’m so sorry ,” Ingrid moaned as they entered. “I slipped in the tub the other night and didn’t think it was that bad, but by the time we were on our way here yesterday, it was like this.” She motioned a ballooned wrist.

“She wanted to wait until we’d finished here before going to the clinic, but she was fighting tears in the car,” Huxley said. “I couldn’t let it go untreated.”

“Of course not,” Roman murmured smoothly. “I’m glad it’s just a sprain, and won’t impact your typing and filing once your vacation is finished.”

Ingrid giggled. “He’s being funny,” she said to Melodie over her shoulder. “The office is paperless and we do almost everything talk to text.”

Melodie smiled, wishing that Ingrid and Huxley weren’t pressed to each other like a pair of bubbles that were about to become one. She really needed them to diffuse all this aggressive male energy coming her way. It was as if Roman had developed a ten-fold power of masculinity overnight and it was now all beamed directly at her.

“Excellent photos, by the way. You have a hidden talent,” Ingrid said to her boss, thankfully drawing his attention for a brief moment.

He only said, “The camera loves her,” then trained his intent gaze back onto Melodie as though searching for something.

Huxley wanted to know what they were talking about and Melodie immediately regretted showing the photos to Ingrid. She’d been trying to explain the potential for wedding photos, but now had to brush aside Ingrid’s gushing with a brisk “I was hamming.”

The final shot, where she’d been looking back at Roman, was the most disturbing. Her slender figure against the ivory backdrop of the mansion’s west wing had projected elegant femininity while her expression had been one of sensual invitation. She hadn’t meant to be so...revealing.

Embarrassment struck once again as yesterday’s unfounded yearnings welled anew. This was why she hated having her picture taken. Too much of herself became visible.

“Why don’t we go outside and you can take a few photos yourself?” she suggested, trying to distract everyone.

* * *

As they sat down by the poolside for a light lunch, Roman continued to study Melodie, biding his time, confident yet highly cautious. She was a surprisingly dangerous woman beneath that projected innocence.

He’d thought her pretty yesterday, which had apparently been enough to mesmerize him. Today, having seen the glimpse of unfettered beauty in her photos, he now caught flashes of stunning attractiveness in her as she smiled and exchanged banter with Ingrid and Huxley.

The truth was he was having trouble remembering why he shouldn’t be drawn to her. He told himself he was giving her enough rope to hang herself, but deep down he wondered if he was putting off the denouement of his plan so he could spend a few more minutes admiring her.

It was sick and wrong. She was his enemy. Yet he suddenly found himself ensnared in the meaningful look she was sending him. She practically spoke inside his head as she flicked a rueful glance toward the couple, who had had to take a break from eating to rub noses. See? It never stops .

It was an odd moment of being on exactly the same wavelength. An urge to chuckle over their private joke rose in him while the sparkle in her eye and the flash of her smile encouraged him.

What the hell? How could he be gripped by anything except the fact she was here to commit a crime against him?

“Now that you’ve seen the place, shall I tell my staff it’s set in stone?” he asked Ingrid, pulling them all back to the supposed business at hand. Trying to put his train of thought back on its rails.

“Please,” Ingrid said, offering him a look of earnest gratitude. “And I can’t thank you enough. I’m still reeling that you’ve been so kind as to offer this. It’s his fortress of solitude,” she added in a teasing aside to Melodie. “No one is ever invited here.”

Roman brushed off the remark with a dry smile, but felt the weight of Melodie’s curiosity. He ignored the prickle of male awareness that responded to the intrigue in her gaze, set his inner shields firmly into place and wrote off a trickle of anticipation as a premonition of threat that he would heed.

“We all need a retreat where we can work in peace,” he said, partly to tantalize her— your move , he was saying—but his house was more than a sanctuary. It was a statement that he had arrived, and hosting the wedding would publish that headline.