Revenge

by Natalie Fox

  REVENGE

  Natalie Fox

  "You live up to your reputation," he said quietly, leaning dangerously close to her mouth. "Cold, frigid, mouth as sharp as tomorrow's razor."

  That was what everyone thought of Alexia Townsend, and it was exactly what she wanted Harry Masters to think, too. It was he who had been responsible for her father's death, he who caused her boyfriend to leave her and he who had brought her company to its knees. Now she would make him pay and pay dearly in the only way she knew how!

  CHAPTER ONE

  Alexia Townsend knew who he was as soon as she caught sight of him through the open doorway of his study. This was his home and who else could he be but the arrogant, self-opinionated egotist, Harry Masters?

  He was pinned to his desk by a rapacious redhead who looked as if she might be giving him the kiss of life. But Alexia guessed that Harry Masters's life was hardly in danger and first aid wasn't exactly on the redhead's mind.

  'Harry, baby, unwind. This is a party, after all,' the redhead simpered, running her long fingers through his dark curly hair.

  Alexia tucked her evening purse under her arm, leaned on the door-jamb and folded her arms across her elegant black shantung cocktail suit. She'd been about to leave but the cabaret had started and she was going to enjoy this. Harry Masters wasn't. That surprised her. She'd heard of the financier's reputation for adoring beautiful women and now she was getting sight of it first hand.

  'Serena, darling,' Harry Masters grated, trying to unclasp the lady's eager fingers from his hair, 'it's not that sort of party --'

  'Your parties are always those sorts of parties,' she giggled, and proceeded to try and unbutton his white silk evening shirt.

  'Not this one,' he ground out, taking firm hold of the redhead's exploratory fingers. 'This one is business. I'm expecting a very important guest...' And at that moment he caught sight of Alexia over the creamy white shoulder of the luscious Serena.

  Their eyes locked, Alexia Townsend and Harry Masters. They hadn't met before and yet both knew instinctively whose eyes they were locked into. Alexia was that important guest Harry Masters was so eagerly awaiting.

  He pushed the redhead away, straightened his evening jacket and cleared his throat. Alexia drew herself up to her full height. Tall, dark and elegant and very much in command of this very silly situation. She gave Harry Masters a cool, reserved smile.

  'Don't stop on my behalf, children,' she told the pair of them. 'I was just about to leave anyway.' She turned on her high heels, crossed the huge hallway of Harry Masters's imposing mansion and wrenched open the front door before the caught-on-the-hop butler could reach it to open it for her.

  To her surprise Alexia was trembling with rage as she picked her way through the mass of cars to her silver Mercedes parked in the driveway. So what had she expected of that arrogant bastard? 'Harry Masters requests the pleasure of your company', the card had invited. Like hell! He hadn't even been there to greet her when she had arrived; instead he'd been making love to one of his entourage of adoring girlfriends. Punishment for her three years of not giving in to his demands to sell her late father's engineering company to him? Very probably, but she would never know. He'd blown it!

  A powerful hand locked over hers as she wrenched at her car door. Her head jerked up and she was suddenly face to face with the man she had hated by proxy for so long. He was big, towering in front of her, casting a giant shadow across her height. She was tall and he was taller. She was elegant and sophisticated and he was more so. He diminished her, overbore her, and for a second unnerved her with the intensity of his dark eyes.

  'The last to arrive, the first to leave,' he stated flatly, the pressure on her hand relentless.

  'Take that whichever way you choose,' she replied tightly.

  'I don't choose to take it any way. What's wrong? Not your sort of party?'

  'I thought it was cocktails, not nuptials!'

  'It upset you to see that woman making love to me, did it?'

  Alexia gave a cynical laugh. 'From where I was standing it wasn't clear who was seducing whom.'

  He returned that with a cynical smile of his own. 'Without wanting to sound conceited, I'm afraid I have to admit it happens all the time, women throwing themselves into my arms. I apologise if it upset you so much you couldn't tear your eyes away,' he told her with teasing mockery glittering his dark eyes.

  Shocked as she was at that interpretation of why she had been standing in his study doorway, Alexia nevertheless rallied a retort. 'Not a lot upsets me, Harry Masters, you should know that by now, but there is a certain fascination in watching the wildlife copulate; it hits you in the solar plexus and makes you wonder how the world survives against such odds.' She glanced down coldly at his hand over hers. 'Remove that, if you don't mind—I don't know where it's been.'

  To her extreme irritation he smoothed his thumb over the back of her hand, blazing a ridge of fire across her skin.

  'You live up to your reputation,' he said quietly, leaning dangerously close to her mouth. 'Cold, frigid, mouth as sharp as tomorrow's razor.'

  Alexia raised a mocking brow to match his cynicism. 'Compliments, compliments,' she husked sexily. 'My turn now. You live up to yours, too. Hot, ruthless and with a mouth as loose as the women you associate with.'

  Anger sparked in his eyes and was then swiftly controlled, as if he meant her to know there could be more if he didn't keep a rein on it. 'So now we have each other's measure,' he drawled lazily, after holding her gaze defiantly. 'Can't say it's a pleasure to meet you, Alexia Townsend, but I will say it will be a pleasure to have you grovelling at my feet.'

  'For what, may I ask?' she questioned haughtily.

  'Maybe a taste of what you witnessed only moments ago.'

  Alexia let out a strangled cry, a cross between a laugh and a gasp. 'Dear me, I thought you might mean business for a second. I can live without any deals with you and I can live without what I witnessed in your study too, thank you.'

  'Can you? I got the impression you found the episode distinctly disturbing.'

  How very wrong he was. She forced a very thin smile. 'Yes, you could describe nausea as distinctly disturbing.'

  'Nausea brought on by envy, perhaps—it's a common enough affliction.'

  Her lips tightened automatically and she fought down the violent urge to punch his jaw for his arrogance.

  'I've heard you don't get much in the way of global warming, Alexia. It must have eaten your heart out to see a woman with half your looks getting what keeps you awake at night.'

  That hurt, striking deep into her heart. Rumours, rumours. Since her father's death and her lover Rex Parton walking out on her because of this man, the rumours had been rife. So, she had no men in her life; was that a crime?

  Alexia's hand froze under his and in a fury she wrenched it away. 'For that you get precisely nothing, Harry Masters. No talks, no negotiations. I came here with every intention of listening to your latest offer but you've just succeeded in talking your way out of it, with very little effort, I might add --'

  Suddenly his mouth was on hers, catching her lips parted in mid-sentence. His lips ground against hers and his tongue was predatory in its ferocious exploration. The kiss caught her senses off balance, spun her mind till she wasn't sure why he was doing it and then she knew. He wanted her company and if he couldn't get it by fair means he'd fight dirty. Did he really believe he could break down her defences with a futile attempt at seduction? He had a lot to learn about her.

  Her teeth closed over the inner softness of his mouth but he was one step ahead of her. Just in time he drew back from her, his fingers biting through the thin fabric of the shoulders of her suit.

  'Passion like that is dangerous, Alexia,' he grated heatedly. 'Don't tr
y that again. I'm mean when I get angry.'

  'You're mean, period,' she retorted hotly. 'And there won't be another time, so you can keep your cool. Now get out of my way!'

  He stepped back with a supercilious smile on his face. 'You really are intending to go, are you?'

  'Absolutely! There is nothing to interest me here, least of all you!'

  'That's a pity,' he drawled. 'And there was I thinking our first meeting was proving to be very interesting indeed, on a personal level, that is.'

  'We don't have a personal level. I didn't come here to your cocktail party to socialise and you didn't invite me for my wit and charm --'

  'You have some, do you?' he mocked. 'It's escaped my notice, I'm afraid.'

  'Well, this won't escape your notice,' Alexia blazed. 'I've changed my mind. I'm not selling. I'll find another buyer.'

  'Not easy, Alexia. Three years ago when you refused my first offer you might have stood a chance of finding someone else. But hard times have hit the whole economic scene and I'm the only one with enough power and money to haul your little company out of trouble. So perhaps you'd better reconsider your untimely exit.'

  Alexia held his dark, deep eyes, her heart pounding out the truth of that statement. Dear God, she needed him, but now she had finally met him the thought of doing business with him filled her with horror. Why couldn't he be fat, old and bald, instead of... ?

  'I'll reconsider nothing,' she seethed through tight lips. 'You reconsider your attitude and we might get somewhere.' She pulled open the door and slid into the driving seat.

  Harry Masters smiled, bent down and said through the open window, 'I don't think those high heels you're wearing will get you far.'

  He turned and walked away from her, leaving her with a frown of puzzlement on her brow. Her fingers came up and touched her bruised lips and she closed her eyes for an instant. Her mouth burned and it wasn't surprising. No one had attempted that for three years. She was shaken, nervous too. She despised Harry Masters. He had killed her father, driven Rex from her and now he had kissed her in a way that made her despise him more. A kiss that declared war, not passion.

  She opened her eyes and composed herself. She'd probably asked for it with her recalcitrance, but she wasn't going to go back on it now.

  With trembling fingers she reached for the ignition keys. They weren't there! Her fingers wrapped round the steering-wheel till they whitened with anger. He must have seen her arrive, kept out of the way as she mingled with the other guests at the party and then sneaked out to take her keys, so assuring that she would stay. She smiled. She hadn't come down with yesterday's rain; she kept a spare set taped under the wheel arch. She got out of the car and scrabbled around furiously. They couldn't have fallen off...

  She straightened up and glared furiously towards the house. Harry Masters stood on the top step of the columned porch, his hands aloft. Two sets of car keys, her car keys, swung from his fingers. He tossed them casually in the air, caught them, plunged them into his trouser pockets, spun on his heel and strolled back into the house to join his guests.

  *

  Alexia was getting distinctly more bored and distinctly more angry by the minute. The party was dragging on. It had started early in the warm June evening and now it was dark and she was faced with a long haul back down the motorway to her home. True, tomorrow was Saturday and the factory closed, but she still had paperwork to do.

  Harry Masters had introduced her to his other guests, which was something at least; he could have just left her to her own devices. She had passed some time with a banker and his charming wife, chatted to a solicitor's wife about the price of property in the south and avoided the amorous attentions of an American industrialist whose Mexican wife didn't understand him.

  'Please give me my keys back,' she hissed between her teeth as Harry Masters slid behind her to reach a group of people who were making going-home sounds. It had started to rain and everyone had come in from the terrace where they had been enjoying the champagne and the balmy weather.

  'No way, sweetheart,' he whispered in her hair. 'Now that I've finally netted you I'm not about to let you go in a hurry.'

  'I'll damn well walk out of here, then!' she grated under her breath.

  'Try it. The drive is gravel and half a mile long and then where? You're hardly the hitch-hiking type.' He smiled at her and then, politely, for everyone to hear, excused himself to say goodnight to his friends.

  Humiliated, Alexia flung herself down on a sofa, crossed her long legs and waited.

  'This is intolerable!' she stormed, leaping to her feet as Harry Masters came back into the room after seeing his last guest off.

  'I agree, you can never trust the British weather, can you?'

  'I'm not referring to the rain, damn you! I think it's intolerable to hold me here against my will. Ridiculously childish, too!'

  'So is not returning my phone calls and replying to my correspondence these last three years,' he told her brittly, pouring himself a Scotch from the cabinet.

  'You've hounded me since my father died and left me Stroben and I never reply to junk mail and have precious little time to waste on obscene phone calls either!'

  'Would you like a drink?'

  'Drink? You must be joking. All I want is out of here. Now, are you going to give me my car keys or not?'

  'Or not,' he replied drily.

  Catering staff suddenly entered the room and Harry Masters crossed an expanse of off-white Axminster to have a word with them. Alexia watched him, unwillingly acknowledging that for a member of the male gender he was strikingly good-looking with his dark Mediterranean colouring. All man, all power, all success. He had everything, a stunning home, any woman he desired and a sackload of successful companies. She could almost admire him but she could never forget the past. Harry Masters had tried to force her father to sell and the pressure had killed him, and that same pressure had turned Rex, her lover and the son of her father's partner, against her. Harry Masters had a lot to answer for, and she wished with all her heart she didn't have to swallow her pride now to save her company.

  She stood up when the caterers left the room, smoothed her jacket over her narrow hips. She had been ready to negotiate tonight, but how could she now?

  'We'll adjourn to the study,' he told her. 'The staff want to clear up in here.'

  'If there's any adjourning to be done it will be by me, to my car,' she told him firmly, her dark eyes unwavering in their determination. She knew she should stay but that kiss had unnerved her. If they were to do business, his home wasn't the place. 'Now give me my keys so I can leave.'

  He held her eyes with equal grim determination. 'I've told you, you're going nowhere. We have some talking to do and now the party's over we'll get down to it.'

  'The party's over all right, Harry Masters. It's hangover time and you are going to have the sickest hangover of your life when I tell you why I accepted your invitation. Yes, I was willing to talk, but not tonight, not after meeting you at last. Now, I dislike you even more than I did. I find you churlish and arrogant but I am willing to give you another chance.' She raised her chin. She had no choice but to give him another chance. She really did need him but she had pride too. 'Call me next week when you've come to your senses. I'll see if I can fit you into my tight schedule.' She said it with sublime confidence that he would accept because she knew how determined he was to buy her out.

  Tucking her small black evening purse under her arm, she went to stride to the door. How she was going to get home without a car was irrelevant at the moment, all she could think of was to get out of his air space before she suffocated with rage.

  He grasped her arm fiercely as she swept past him, swinging her round to face him. 'The only tight schedule you operate, Alexia, is under that designer skirt of yours!'

  Her gasp of shocked indignation came out in a rush of hot air. 'How dare you? How dare y—?'

  'I dare, darling, because I've had all I can take from you!' His je
t eyes blazed confirmation of that. 'I'm not hanging around for another three years waiting for you to condescend to talk to me. We are going to resolve this, here and now. I want what you've got and my patience is wearing thin. If I have to keep you here for a month, I will.'

  'You can't force me to stay!'

  'I already have,' he bit back, his warm breath fanning her cheeks. 'And I've no intention of letting you out of my sight till I get everything I want!'

  His eyes raked across her full mouth and fear streaked through her at the thought that he meant more than just her business. He was still gripping her wrist tightly, pressuring numbness down her spine. She couldn't have run if she had tried.

  'Let me go!' she breathed heatedly. 'You'll get nothing from me, not ever. I hate the sight of you!'

  'Liar,' he drawled softly.

  Her eyes widened and her tongue moistened her lips instinctively. She was trembling in his grip and he felt it, knew the treacherous effect his touch had on her. Her brain spun in confusion. She did hate him, she wasn't a liar, and yet...

  'Now, unless you want to spend the rest of the weekend here, I suggest we get down to some serious discussions.'

  She wasn't completely senseless yet. 'I refuse to discuss anything under this sort of pressure!' she husked back at him, straining the muscles at her wrist in a vain attempt to ease the discomfort of his grasp.

  'I'm not getting through to you, am I? Listen, Alexia Townsend, and listen good. We talk now because I say so. No woman, in my own home, tells me what to do. Is that clear?'

  'Clear as thick chocolate!' she spat back at him. 'I've held you off for three years and another three years would give me intense pleasure.'

  'Ah, but that was before we met. Now things have changed, haven't they? Your intense pleasure could take on a whole new meaning.'

  He twisted her wrist down to her side and slightly behind her so that he could move her body closer to his. His hard frame was against her, hard and hot and so powerful that she knew to struggle was hopeless.