Passionate Revenge

by Sally Wentworth

  Heath gave her a sneering look. 'Come to take over already? Or just to make sure that I get out as quickly as possible?'

  The words and the tone cut deep, but Zara betrayed it only by a tightening of her lips. 'No.' She shook her head. 'I came to—apologise. I went to see my mother this morning. She—verified what you said.' She expected Heath to say something, but he just looked at her stony-faced, and she went on, 'And I brought you this,' holding out the letter.

  After a moment's hesitation Heath took it from her and tore it open, his eyes running swiftly over the letter and the contents. Then he said scathingly, 'So you refuse to accept my resignation, but you must know I can't afford to buy these shares back from you at the price you paid for them.'

  'I'm not asking you to pay for them. I'm giving them to you.'

  'And do you really think I'd accept them?' He threw the shares on to the desk. 'I don't need your charity, Zara. I can build another agency just as good as this one. You can even have my Masterads' shares. I want no part in anything that you're concerned with,' he added disparagingly.

  'It isn't charity! They rightfully belong to you. And—and I have no use for them any more. Please take them.'

  Heath stared into her white face, seeing the dark, bruising shadows around her eyes, and the drawn look of her cheeks and mouth as if she had lost weight suddenly. 'Why did you bring these here yourself?'

  'I—I felt I had to. That I owed it to you.'

  His face hardened. 'You owe me a hell of a lot more than that, you spiteful little cat!'

  Zara's hands balled into tight, nail-pinching fists. 'Yes, I know. And I know that I can never make it up to you. You have the right to call me anything you want.'

  His lips curled contemptuously. 'So you're into masochism too, are you?'

  Her slim body trembled and she closed her eyes tightly for a moment. Then she opened them and said stammeringly, 'There—there was another reason why I came. You—you said… in the Bahamas you said that you—wanted me.'

  'Well?' Heath demanded, his eyes fixed intently on her face as she struggled for words.

  'So—so I came to give you that, too.'

  'Yourself?'

  'Yes.' She stood gazing at the floor, unable to meet his eyes, her hands twisting nervously together as she waited for him to speak.

  'But how noble of you,' said Heath in mocking scorn. 'To sacrifice yourself as an act of atonement. I've never known anyone whose emotions were on such a grand scale: hate, revenge, remorse. But don't worry, Zara, you don't have to debase yourself by submitting your body to me. I can survive without being an altar for your penitence.'

  She stared at him, unable to believe that he didn't want her, even if only to take his own revenge. 'You don't understand,' she said with sudden fierceness, her eyes pleading. 'I want you to make love to me—I—I want to know what it would have been like.'

  Heath's body stiffened as he stared at her, then he lunged forward and picked up the shares lying on the desk. 'So that's what these are for, is it ?' he demanded harshly. 'To buy me!' And he threw them violently across the room.

  'No!' She put her hands up to protect herself as he came striding round the desk. 'No, you don't understand.'

  'On the contrary I understand all too well.' He towered over her, big and murderously angry, his voice savage as he said, 'Get out of here! Get out before I forget that you're only a psychotic little fool and I give you the hiding you deserve!'

  Zara looked at him desperately, shaking her head and trying to speak. But then suddenly tears came into her eyes and flowed down her face and she turned and ran.

  She bumped into people as she sped into the street and a car had to swerve violently to avoid her as she ran blindly across the road, but she didn't even notice. Her breath was coming in great gulps and her head was pounding unbearably. Her legs felt weak and she leaned up against a wall, shaking violently. People looked at her as they passed and one or two hesitated, but no one offered help. Brushing the tears away a little, Zara managed to look around and go to the kerb to hail a taxi, subsiding into it as she went home. The porter called out to her as she ran past his desk, but she fled up the stairs to the sanctuary of her flat, slamming the door behind her and throwing herself on the bed to sob convulsively.

  The pent-up tears of many unhappy years overcame her as she lay there in abject wretchedness, and she didn't even hear the phone ringing or, half an hour or so later, the sound of her doorbell. This was followed by someone banging on her door, but she wasn't aware of that either. Five minutes later, Heath and the porter, with the master key in his hand, hurried in. Heath flung open her bedroom door, but stopped short when he saw her lying there. Then he heard her crying and saw no empty bottle of pills and his body relaxed. Turning to the porter, he said, 'It's all right, I'll take care of her. Thanks for your help.'

  When the porter had gone Heath walked over to stand beside the bed and said drily, 'Feeling sorry for yourself, Zara?'

  A sob caught in her throat and she stiffened, her hand clutching at the pillow. With a supreme effort she stifled her tears and sat up with her back to him. 'How—how did you get in here?'

  'I persuaded the porter to open the door. The people at your office were worried about you. They said that you'd left a letter on your desk saying you were going away. They were afraid you might do something stupid—like killing yourself. Which, when you come to think of it, is the kind of thing a coward like you would do.'

  Zara's face tightened and she stopped crying. 'So why you?'

  'They seemed to think that your—emotional state was something to do with me and that I ought to deal with it.'

  'Well, now you've dealt with it,' she said as evenly as she could, but a shudder ran through her as she added, 'Now you can go away and forget about me.'

  Heath walked round the bed so that he could see her face. 'But what guarantee have I got that you won't swallow a bottle of sleeping pills when I'm out of the way?'

  'I won't. I promise I won't.'

  He gave a disbelieving laugh. 'You made me a promise once before, but you didn't keep it.'

  'But that was before I knew…' She stopped wretchedly. 'Look. I have no intention of committing suicide. As you said, I'm a coward. I'm not that brave.'

  'And your letter?'

  'It meant exactly what I said. I'm going away.'

  'Where?'

  She shrugged helplessly. 'I don't know. Africa, India, somewhere like that. Somewhere where I can work and perhaps do some good. Somewhere I can perhaps learn to be able to live with myself again. Find myself.' There was a note of despair in her voice and she looked down at the floor, her shoulders sagging.

  Heath looked at her for a long moment and then said, 'Why should you do that? If it's anyone's fault it's your parents'. They were the ones who lied to us both and made us part in the first place. And it was because of their lies that you began to hate me, wasn't it?'

  She shook her head. 'But I shouldn't have tried to get even with you.'

  'No, you shouldn't, but when people are hurt it's human nature to want to hurt back.' Heath paused, and in a strained voice said, 'Why did you ask me to make love to you this afternoon?'

  Zara stiffened. 'I thought—you wanted me.' He didn't speak and after a moment she said, 'No, that isn't true, is it? I thought of all those wasted years, all those nights I wished it was you I was in bed with. And I wanted to know, just once, what it would really have been like.' Her voice faded and she bit her lip. 'I'm sorry, I expect you find that—repellent after what I did to you.'

  'No, I don't find you repellent,' Heath said softly. 'I loved you, too, remember? It hurt like hell when I heard that you'd married someone else and I thought that you hadn't really cared about me. But I could understand that because you were so young and I got over it—had to. But this time, when you stood there and told me how you'd lied to me and gone behind my back…'

  Zara stood up agitatedly and walked into the sitting- room. 'Yes, you have every right t
o hate me now.'

  'You told me only two days ago that you were in love with me,' he reminded her as he followed her in. 'Were you lying to me then?'

  Fresh tears filled her eyes and she lifted a hand to brush them away. 'I'm sorry, I haven't cried for—for such a long time; now I can't seem to stop.'

  Coming round to stand in front of her, Heath said, his voice harsh again, 'I asked you a question.'

  Zara blinked and looked around like a cornered animal, but realised there was no escape and nodded. 'Yes, it was true. I don't think I ever really stopped loving you, not in all those long years.' Her head came up, her chin tilting defiantly. 'So now you have your weapon of revenge, don't you? You know I'm at your mercy and…'

  'Zara.' He reached out and caught hold of her. 'Just shut up, will you?' Then he stooped and picked her up in his arms.

  'What are you doing?' she asked dazedly.

  'What I should have done seven years ago. I'm going to take you to bed and make love to you.'

  'But—but you can't want to,' she protested as he shouldered the bedroom door open and carried her inside.

  'You crazy idiot,' Heath said thickly. 'Of course I want to. You're all I ever wanted from the first moment I met you.'

  She stared at him, a wild, almost unimaginable hope in her heart. 'Are you… do you mean you—you still love me? Even after…'

  'Always,' he said huskily as he put her down. 'No matter what.' Cupping her face with his hands, he said urgently, 'Don't cry, my darling. Don't ever cry again.' And then he kissed her with deep, aching longing, taking her mouth with the fierce hunger of a starving man. Zara gave a little moan of joy and thankfulness and sagged against him, but his growing passion soon made her respond as she put her arms round his neck and kissed him fervently in return.

  His hands went to the zip of her dress, pulling it down in urgent haste, and then it was off her shoulders and Heath was kissing her neck, her throat. The dress fell to the floor and Zara stepped out of it, her breath quickening as he kissed her with wild passion, murmuring endearments against her mouth, sending her into an ascending spiral of pleasure. The rest of her clothes seemed to melt from her body, revealing her to his eyes and the exquisite torment of his caresses. His mouth, his hands, grew tremblingly eager as he avidly explored her, until she was moaning with heat and desire.

  Picking her up, Heath kissed her as he carried her to the bed and put her in it. Zara clung to him, her body arching towards him and she gave a cry of protest when he took her hands from round his neck. 'Yes, my sweet, in just a moment.'

  He was back very soon, lying beside her between the cool sheets. His arms reached out and drew her to him and for the first time she felt the heady, sensuous pleasure of his skin against her own. 'Oh, Heath! Oh, my love.' She gasped out his name on a rising tide of joy and excitement, her breath hot and panting as he held her close against him. 'I love you so much.'

  'And I you, my darling, my love.' He kissed her again, his lips like burning brands against her skin as he moved down the bed to explore her quivering body. She moaned with tormented pleasure as he caressed her breasts, her fingers digging into his shoulders. But it was too exquisite, such sweet torture. Zara couldn't stand it any longer and tore herself free, caught his head and kissed his mouth in greedy passion, aflame with an urgent need that made her almost fight to be near him. Heath's arms came round her and for a few moments she lay on top of him, their legs entwined as they kissed with savage abandon, each taking the other's mouth in frantic feverish need, their bodies hot, and wet with perspiration, their breath panting gasps of animal desire.

  And then he swung her underneath him again, was lifting himself up on his elbows, his hard body probing hers. Zara gasped and went suddenly rigid, her hands holding him off. 'Zara?' he gasped out her name on a wild, questioning note and looked down at her hot flushed face.

  'I—I've wanted you for so long. Waited for so many years. But now—now I'm afraid.'

  Putting his hand on her damp forehead, he gently pushed aside her hair, his hand trembling. 'Don't ever be afraid. Because this is right, this is where you belong. It was the past that was wrong, not this. And it will be wonderful, my darling, now and always, because we love each other and because we've waited so long.'

  For a moment she stared up at him, but then her hands went to his shoulders. 'Yes, oh, yes!' And she lifted her body to accept him.

  Heath kissed her ardently again, his excitement at fever pitch, his body thrusting forward as he took her in an explosion of ecstasy that buried the past as it lifted them both to the heights of climactic pleasure. They had found each other again, and now, in the gradually darkening room, they pledged their bodies in a physical and emotional union that cleansed away blame and deceit, vengeance and pain, until they fell asleep in each other's arms, knowing that their future together was safe and assured.