Passionate Revenge

by Sally Wentworth

  She half rose to pick up the empty soup bowls, but Heath waved her back. I’l do it.'

  He came back with the Boeuf Bourguignon and ladled it on to their plates. Zara watched him and was filled with a sudden surge of sadness; how much she had wanted this seven years ago, what she wouldn't have given then to be his wife and have spent evenings together like this! But she had offered him the only thing she had—herself. And that he had spurned without even bothering to tell her. She sat silently looking blindly down at her plate.

  'Perhaps you'd like me to taste it first to make sure it doesn't poison you,' Heath offered.

  'What?' She looked up and blinked. 'Sorry, I was thinking of something else.'

  'Penny for them, then.' He lifted his hand. 'But I'm not paying if you were thinking about work.'

  Zara forced herself to smile. 'I'm short a penny, then.' She gave him a direct look. 'Why did you wait for me tonight? What do you want from me, Heath?'

  'What makes you think I want something?'

  'Men always want something from a woman,' she answered shortly.

  Heath nodded slowly. 'Yes, I suppose that's true enough.' He paused, then said, 'What I want from you at the moment, I suppose, is more evenings like this, talking, getting to know one another. I'd like for us to go out together, be friendly, companionable, and yet stimulate each other too. I want—I guess I want us to be at ease with one another.'

  As she listened to him, Zara's face slowly tightened.

  'I never feel at ease with you,' she said abruptly.

  'Why not?' he asked, his voice soft but urgent.

  She shrugged. 'I don't know.'

  'Because of the past? Because of what we meant to each other before?'

  'I told you,' she said shortly, 'I don't like talking about the past. And come to think about it, I don't like people coming here unless I give them a specific invitation. And that does apply to you.'

  But Heath wasn't in the least put out. 'And deprive yourself of meals like this? You're a fool to yourself, Zara my darling.'

  'Very likely,' she agreed. 'And don't call me that!'

  'Is there anything else you want to stop me doing?' he asked with a mock patient air.

  From breathing, she thought, but only said, 'I'll let you know.'

  They finished their meal with coffee which they took into the sitting-room, leaving the dishes for her housekeeper to clear in the morning. Heath wasn't so emancipated that he insisted on doing the washing-up, she noticed. She put on a cassette and went to walk past him to an armchair, but he caught her wrist and drew her down beside him on the sofa. 'Did you and Richard quarrel?' he asked. 'Finally, I mean.'

  'Mind your own business!'

  'You're fond of saying that, aren't you? But when are you going to realise that you are my business?'

  Zara looked away, part of her resenting the proprietorial way he had put his arm across her shoulders, resenting also the way he had taken over that evening, but part of her, too, was excited by it, her senses and emotions heightened by his nearness.

  His fingers began to caress her neck gently as Heath said, 'There's an exhibition of Turner's watercolours opening at the Royal Academy this week. How about having lunch with me on Wednesday and taking an hour off to go round it?'

  A gallery sounded a safe enough place, Zara thought, so she nodded. 'Yes, all right.'

  He smiled at her in pleased surprise. 'I was certain you'd say you were busy or something.'

  'Oh, I do take time off occasionally.'

  'Good, I'm glad to hear it.' And his grip tightening, Heath pulled her forward to kiss her. 'You know,' he murmured when he let her go, 'I think the ice almost melted there for a moment.'

  'Who wouldn't?' she answered with pretended flippancy. 'You're obviously very experienced.'

  He nodded. 'True. I'm not denying it. And you must be, too, if you've been married.'

  Zara turned her head away. 'The two things don't necessarily equate.'

  Heath looked at her narrowly. 'Perhaps not.' He seemed about to ask a question, but then changed his mind. Instead he drew her to him again, saying, 'But you're still a very sexy lady.'

  When he kissed her this time he moved his hands over her back, gently caressing her, but when his hand slid inside her sweater, Zara pulled away. 'It's getting late,' she said pointedly. 'And I still have work to do.'

  Somewhat to her surprise, he immediately got to his feet. 'And I have an early start tomorrow. We're interviewing people for your feasibility study and I want to get as much of my other work done as possible Wore we start.'

  'How many people are you taking on?'

  'About ten, but most—perhaps all—of them will only be short-term, of course.' Going to the window, Heath pulled the curtain aside to look out and grimaced. 'It's still raining. Heaven knows when we'll get those swimwear photographs taken. If the sun doesn't shine during the next week we'll just have to do a studio mock-up.'

  'I always think they don't ring true somehow.'

  'I agree with you. But needs must in this weather.' Heath turned to face her. 'Goodnight, Zara.'

  'Goodnight.'

  She made no move to go to him, but Heath said softly, 'Come here and say goodnight properly.'

  'No, I…'

  'Come here,' he insisted.

  Slowly, her eyes rebellious, Zara moved forward until she was close enough for him to touch her, but that was all.

  'Okay. Now put your arms round my neck, stand on your tippytoes, say "goodnight, Heath" nicely, and kiss me.' He spoke as if he was instructing a small child, but his eyes smiled warmly, encouragingly.

  'Oh, really, this is ridiculous! I…'

  'Do it, Zara,' he insisted.

  'Oh, for heaven's sake!' But she put her hands on his shoulders and reached up to kiss his mouth.

  'You forgot to say goodnight, Heath,' he reminded her.

  Striding out into the hall, Zara grabbed his overcoat out of the cupboard and thrust it at him. 'Goodnight, Heath,' she said on a raised note of anger.

  Laughing, he took it from her. 'Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll call for you at twelve on Wednesday.'

  When he had gone, Zara immediately went back to her desk to finish her work, but was quite unable to concentrate. She kept wondering if it was remotely possible that Heath really was falling for her. On his past record it seemed most unlikely. Okay, maybe he did fancy her a little, but he was probably making up to her only because of who she was, because he wanted to continue to do business with her. Or perhaps because she was rich. It would be really ironic if he wanted to marry her now after he had run away from marriage with her before. Zara suddenly stabbed her pen down into her desk. I'd rather die than let him get his hands on a penny of the money I've worked so hard for! she thought fiercely. But it was necessary to let him go on thinking that she might be won round. She had to keep him sweet for just a few weeks longer until his company and his world crashed around him.

  Strangely enough, Zara enjoyed herself on Wednesday, although it began far from auspiciously. Heath came to collect her at work as he had promised, but instead of waiting for her down in reception he came up to her office and gave her a possessive kiss of greeting right in front of Mac and one of the typists. She gave him a fuming look and would have refused to go with him if it wouldn't have created a scene. 'How dare you do that?' she demanded furiously as soon as they were outside.

  'Because I wanted to, of course,' Heath answered outrageously.

  She turned to glower at him. 'And just who the hell tin you think you are? Do you realise it will be all round the company within hours?'

  He grinned down at her. 'Stop being so priggish—or I'll do it again right here on the pavement.'

  Zara opened her mouth to say, 'You wouldn't dare,' then shut it again hastily when she saw the gleam in his eyes. He grinned again. 'Much wiser,' he told her. 'Come on, my car's parked on a yellow line.'

  But when they reached it Heath gave a groan of annoyance when he saw that a traffic ward
en, one of London's meter maids, had already spotted it. Going across, he put Zara solicitously into the car and then started talking to the warden. Two minutes later he got in—and without a ticket. The traffic warden even stopped the traffic so that he could pull out!

  Zara stared at him in dumbfounded amazement. 'How on earth did you manage that?'

  'She couldn't resist my masculine charm, of course.' He gave her a sidelong look, then laughed. 'Don't ask, Zara. You'd never forgive me if you knew.'

  'Oh! Why, you…' She glared at him for a moment, guessing what tale he must have spun, and then burst out laughing. 'You're incorrigible!'

  'Of course.' He pulled up at a traffic light and turned to smile at her, his eyes caressing her face. 'Ah, I'd almost forgotten that lovely spontaneous laugh you had. I'm glad you've got it back.'

  'I never lost it,' she said shortly, which wasn't at all true; there had been a period when she hadn't laughed for a very long time.

  He took her to the Italian restaurant where they had eaten several times when they had first gone out together. At first Zara didn't recognise the place because it had expanded into the next-door building, but the proprietor was the same, greeting Heath by name and leading him to a table tucked away in an alcove, the same table they had always used.

  Heath ordered drinks and smiled at her. 'Remember this place?'

  'Vaguely,' she admitted. 'I seem to remember that the food was good.'

  'It still is. What would you like?'

  They ordered, and Zara said, 'How are you getting on with the feasibility…'

  But Heath leaned forward and put two fingers on her lips, silencing her. 'Oh no, you don't! This isn't a business lunch, it's purely social. We aren't going to mention work. Okay?'

  She shrugged, sitting back so that he couldn't reach her. 'As you like,' she answered casually, but her heart l>eating rather fast from the surprise intimacy of his touch. 'Have you ever been to Italy?'

  So they talked about travel and food, and other subjects where they could converse on a safe level, while Zara's heart was full of memories of the brief happiness of the past, memories that filled her with yearning and yet tore and hurt too. She didn't eat very much and Heath didn't seem very hungry either, so they quite soon went on to the Royal Academy and wandered round the rooms looking at the pictures. Heath bought a guide and read out some of the descriptions and history of the watercolours, Zara having to stand quite close to him to listen and very aware of him beside her. Sometimes they accidentally touched and she quickly moved away, flinching as if she had been stung. But once Heath deliberately took hold of her hand and wouldn't let her go when she tried to pull away.

  'Why are you afraid?' he said softly, his eyes holding hers.

  'Don't be silly!' she snapped, and jerking her hand out of his walked swiftly out of the building into the cold wintry wind.

  Heath caught up with her as she began to walk across the forecourt towards the street. 'If you're not afraid why are you running away?' he demanded.

  'I'm not. I have to get back to the office. I have an appointment at three.'

  'How convenient,' he answered on a note of sardonic disbelief.

  When they reached the street, Zara looked for a taxi, but there wasn't one in sight. 'Thank you for lunch,' she said formally.

  'Thank you for coming. Will you have dinner with me on Friday evening?'

  'No, sorry.' She saw that he was about to argue and said, 'I shall be away. If you remember one of our new shops is opening on Saturday morning and I have to be at the opening ceremony, and there's also going to be a small party for the staff the night before. I want to go to that too.'

  'But you'll be back on Saturday evening? So have dinner with me then?'

  Again she shook her head. 'Sorry, I have a date.'

  Heath's face hardened. 'I thought you said it was all over with Richard?'

  'It is.' She gave him a cool look. 'Richard isn't the only man I go out with.' She saw a taxi cruising along and lifted her arm, attracting the driver's attention. While she waited for him to do a U-turn and come alongside, she turned to Heath and gave him an unknowingly wanton look. 'Do you really think I live such a nun-like existence?' She laughed harshly. 'I'm a 11 experienced divorcee, remember? I don't have to restrict myself to just one man.'

  Heath's face grew taut. 'No, I don't suppose you do. As you say, you probably have plenty of escorts— plenty of opportunities.' He paused as the taxi came up to them. 'But somehow I doubt very much whether you ever take advantage of them, Zara.' He opened the cab door and held it for her, his eyes fixed on her face for a long moment before he slammed it shut and gave the driver the address of her office.

  Zara sat still, her heart beating painfully, knowing it would soon be over and she would never have to see Heath again.

  She really did have a date on Saturday evening; with an ex-colleague who was in London for a few days. It was purely platonic, the two of them merely enjoying each other's company, and Zara had a pleasant if unexciting evening. On Sunday, she half expected Heath to ring, but he didn't, and she didn't see him again until the Tuesday when he and Eric Jennings came over to the Panache building to describe how they intended to go about the feasibility study. Afterwards Heath made a point of being alone with her for a moment and asked her to go to the theatre with him the following evening, and rather to his surprise, Zara agreed. And she went out with him on the Friday night, too, although she was afraid that by doing so she might encourage him enough to make a pass at her. But Heath behaved like a perfect gentleman, paying her compliments admittedly, but contenting himself with just a couple of kisses when they said goodnight.

  This reticent behaviour left Zara with very mixed feelings. She was relieved, of course, but she had fully expected to have to fight Heath off, and not having to came as rather an anti-climax. She began to wonder rather uneasily just what game he was playing, but comforted herself with the knowledge that he was stretching his financial resources to the limit to do the sportswear promotion and the feasibility study. It wouldn't be long now before she had him completely within her power.

  On Monday morning she had further corroboration of this when her stockbroker rang her and rather excitedly told her that Heath's aunt had agreed to sell her shares in Masterads. 'And I think there's a good chance of being able to buy others too,' he told her. 'His uncle is definitely tempted by your offer, but the difficulty is that he talked about consulting Heath Masterson first. If he does that…' he paused, letting the implications sink in.

  'Yes, I see what you mean,' Zara said. 'If Heath Masterson finds out that someone wants his uncle's shares, he'll check on the others and find that his aunt has sold.'

  'Precisely. And then if he's wise he'll buy back the rest of the shares himself to make sure he has overall control.'

  'If he has the money, or can raise it,' she agreed.

  'That shouldn't be difficult when he tells the bank or finance company about his tie-in with you,' the stockbroker reminded her.

  'Mm.' Zara smiled, realising that she had got Heath where she wanted him either way. But buying shares in his company would probably be the better alternative. She thought for a moment, her gaze on the bleak weather outside, then said, 'Maybe I can arrange for Masterson to be out of the country for a few days.'

  That would be very convenient. And if you could also arrange for him to go as soon as possible and to be kept occupied…'

  Zara frowned thoughtfully, but then her brow cleared. 'I think I could do that. Yes, I think I could certainly keep him occupied. I'll call you and let you know when to go ahead.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  As Zara buckled her seat belt in the executive class of the plane taking them to Nassau she glanced at Heath sitting beside her and realised that getting him out of the country had been easier than she had dared to hope.

  After she had spoken to her broker she had checked that the swimwear photographs still hadn't been taken, and then rung Heath.

  'Well, hall
o,' he greeted her. 'Is this business or social?'

  'Business, I'm afraid. Heath, I'm getting worried about the swimwear photographs.'

  'Yes, it doesn't look as if the weather is going to ease up, so I'm afraid we'll have to have them done in a studio, unfortunately.'

  'I've been thinking about that,' she told him with studied casualness. 'I don't think studio photos would look right. So I really feel that we ought to send a photographic team somewhere hot and sunny right away.'

  'That would be expensive,' Heath warned.

  'Yes, I know, but this is an important promotion and I think we ought to afford it.'

  'Where were you thinking of sending them?'

  'To the Bahamas, perhaps. Or some place equally hot and exotic at this time of the year. And I would like you,' she added deliberately, 'to go with the team to make sure that everything goes all right.'

  'Trying to get rid of me, Zara?' Heath asked with wry humour. 'Sorry, I've got too much on here. But don't worry, I'll make sure that the person in charge knows exactly what we want.'

  'Oh, that's a shame. Well, at least I know what we want even though I don't know anything about photographic modelling, so at least I'll be able to supervise a little.'

  His voice sharpened. 'You mean you intend to go along, too?'

  'Yes, I thought I might. I've been working hard lately and this weather is getting me down. I could do with a break in the sun.'

  'I see.' His voice growing thoughtful, Heath asked, 'When did you want the team to leave?'

  'As soon as possible, I should think. How long do you think it would take to arrange?'

  'As everyone's on standby waiting for the weather to change, only about three days. Luckily the Bahamas aren't part of the States, so we won't need visas. Can you manage it in three days?'

  'Yes, I'll make sure I can.' She paused, and added on a carefully non-committal note that had just the slightest trace of wistfulness, 'I'm sorry you won't be coming with us.'

  'Well, if you're organised enough to take a holiday at such short notice, then I ought to be able to as well. So maybe I will come along, after all.'