‘I was trying to drive a wedge between her and her son. To isolate her, which, if you recall, is rule number one. And as far as I’m concerned, it worked.’ Olivia stood her ground, her hard expression reflecting her compassionless soul. It amazed Richard how women who were undeniably beautiful could appear so ugly when their true temperaments came to the fore. ‘She’s not likely to think her precious son is quite so perfect now, is she?’
‘We discuss things beforehand,’ Richard reminded her tersely. The fact was, she’d acted on her own, completely forgetting the all-important detail that he and Becky weren’t yet married. ‘Stick to a pre-planned agenda. That way we both know what we’re doing. That display downstairs was amateurish.’
‘Agenda?’ Olivia planted her hands on her hips. ‘What agenda? You’re not making any plans. At this rate, you’ll die of old age together. If you ask me, the only plan you have is to fuck her.’
Smiling scornfully, Richard shook his head. ‘What do you suggest I do, Liv? Tuck her up in bed with a nice cup of cocoa? Not going to work, is it?’
Olivia’s scowl deepened. ‘I think you prefer her to me,’ she said, her tone more subdued – tearful and definitely needy. An act. He could see right through her games, too. And, quite frankly, he was growing tired of them. Worse, he was growing irritated. If she thought she could easily manipulate him, she should think again – fast.
‘I do what I do with a degree of enthusiasm because I have to. It’s a means to an end, that’s all.’ Eyeing her narrowly, he decided he would need to do something about her, but not now. She, too, was a means to an end. She just hadn’t realised it.
‘So prove it,’ Olivia challenged, looking him provocatively over as he tugged off his shirt. ‘Make me come. Now,’ she purred, moving towards him to run a sharp talon the length of his torso.
Her eyes – feral cat’s eyes – held a promise, Richard noted. He could do anything with her that he pleased. Richard considered what manner of pleasurable things he might do, and then considered that that would be giving in to her manipulation. There was also the added fact that the prospect of sadomasochistic sex no longer seemed that appealing. ‘I need to take a shower,’ he said, looking her dispassionately over and turning away.
Olivia, though, was not going to be easily dissuaded. ‘Perfect,’ she said, following him to the bathroom.
‘Alone.’ Richard stopped her bluntly. ‘I’m tired, Liv. Sorry.’
Olivia was silent for a second, but Richard was braced for the fireworks. ‘You bastard.’ Her tone was a mixture of astonishment and hurt.
‘Correct,’ Richard countered. ‘But then that’s what you like about me, hey, Liv?’
‘You can’t get it up, can you?’ she sneered, behind him.
Richard hadn’t been expecting that, he had to admit. ‘Not always, no,’ he conceded, his jaw tensing.
‘Except with her,’ Olivia added. ‘You’ve fallen in love with her.’ She laughed, a short disbelieving laugh.
Richard said nothing. It was an interesting notion, considering that the psychiatrist at the care centre in which he’d spent his youth had, after several sessions spent trying to establish the reason for his lack of empathy, concluded he had Emotional Deprivation Disorder. ‘People who have been physically or emotionally abused by a caregiver in early childhood often develop a kind of protective shield that prevents them from being able to love other people on a conscious level,’ the man had explained carefully. ‘It doesn’t mean you’re inherently evil, Richard. Think of it more as stunted emotional growth.’
Richard had decided not to view it any particular way. It was what it was. There was no cure, no way to fix it. At least, he’d never found one. He was simply unable to feel love for another human being. The closest he’d come to such a phenomenon, in fact, was the affection he felt for his dogs. So what was it then, this inexplicable fascination he had for Rebecca?
‘You stupid bastard!’ Olivia jolted him from his thoughts. ‘You’ll jeopardise everything!’
‘Me jeopardise everything?’ Richard turned to face her, his voice tight with anger. ‘You have your sights set on her son in order to satiate your ravenous sexual appetite and you accuse me of putting everything at risk?’
‘Why the hell shouldn’t I? He’s a grown man!’ Olivia yelled. ‘At least he’s young and virile enough to—’
‘Enough!’ Richard shouted. ‘Sam is off limits!’
‘Ha!’ Olivia as good as laughed in his face. ‘You might think you dictate the rules, Richard, but you do not get to dictate who I sleep with.’
‘No?’ Richard walked towards her, his temper spiking. ‘Says who?’ His eyes narrowed and his hand shot out to seize her by her poisonous throat.
Olivia’s mouth curved into a triumphant smile as he pushed her back against the bedroom wall. ‘So we can get it up now, can we?’ she taunted, her hand going to his groin.
FORTY-SEVEN
REBECCA
PRESENT
Hearing Richard’s whispered curses as he gave in to his urges, Rebecca pressed a hand to her mouth, attempting to quash the nausea rising inside her.
Let’s hope this one cottons on… There’s something not right there… She played the gossiping women’s words over and laughed disbelievingly at her naive stupidity. It had been staring her right in the face. The girl – woman – didn’t have an Oedipus complex, as Nicole had once confided she’d thought she had. She was his lover, his partner, one half of a depraved couple that preyed on single, vulnerable women. They’d planned it from outset, choosing Nicole specifically because she fitted the criteria, the most important of which was, of course, that she had assets, just as the women before her must have. Lydia had been part of their vile plan, too. They’d spun their web and reeled in their victims – terrified victims, who must have suffered nothing short of torture near the end.
This was what had finally driven Nicole ‘out of her mind’, pushed her to that dark place to die a cold, lonely death. Had she really intended to take her own life, that bleak night, or had she been assisted by these two sub-human creatures? Had Richard’s brave attempts to save her – his grand finale – been planned in order to deflect suspicion away from him?
Evil bastards!
Fury unfurling inside her, grief for her friend lodged like a shard of glass in her chest, Rebecca moved quietly away from the wall she’d been leaning against. Outwardly composed, she walked calmly back to the stairs, leaving the cries of a woman in the throes of ecstasy behind her. Enjoy, you twisted bitch. They were made for each other, their deviant natures seeking the same perverse pleasures. They deserved each other. Deserved to rot in hell together for all eternity.
Gripping the banister firmly, she went down to the hall, where to all intents and purposes she had just arrived home. She knew the rules now. And she intended to play the game. Olivia was obviously becoming restless, growing jealous. She’d tolerated it, Rebecca imagined, because Richard had always come back to her bed. Torture and murder had clearly been powerful aphrodisiacs, fuelling their debauched sex. But, for Richard, the excitement was beginning to wane. He was growing bored with her – and Olivia knew it. She also knew she had power over him.
But so, too, did Rebecca.
FORTY-EIGHT
RICHARD
PRESENT
‘Christ.’ Coming into the kitchen to find Becky unexpectedly in there, Richard’s heart almost skidded to a stop.
‘Sorry, did I startle you?’ She glanced across from where she was putting the kettle on.
‘A bit.’ Richard arranged his face into a smile and hastily buttoned his shirt. Breaking a cardinal rule, Olivia had marked his torso, about which he was not pleased. He’d caught her hand too late to stop her fingernails digging deep gouges into his flesh. He was going to have a hard time explaining those away. He should have broken her wrist, the careless bitch. ‘I hadn’t realised you were back.’
‘I thought you might be taking a shower,’ Becky said. ‘I was a
bout to shout up to see if you fancied a coffee.’
She turned to smile at him – and Richard breathed a quiet sigh of relief. It wouldn’t have been the end of the world if she had discovered them together at this stage, he supposed. She would have told him what she thought of him in no uncertain terms, might possibly have slapped him. He had a feeling Rebecca wasn’t the sort who would rant and scream and weep pitifully; she would be more likely to impart her thoughts succinctly and then leave. Then he would just have to do what he’d done on previous such occasions: select someone new and start afresh – a depressing thought. He wasn’t sure he had suddenly discovered what love was, but he liked having Rebecca around, which led to him to ponder how he would feel when she wasn’t. Bereft, he suspected, which was definitely a new phenomenon.
‘I’d love one, thanks.’ Richard walked across to kiss her on the cheek, glad he’d had the foresight to have a quick shower before coming down. Rebecca wasn’t stupid – far from it – and she would have noticed his dishevelled appearance. He really was going to have to curtail his activities with Olivia, which would undoubtedly make her more problematic. She was becoming extremely tiresome. ‘So, how did it go with Laura?’ he asked her, contemplating how best to deal with the issue of Olivia while fetching the mugs from the cupboard.
Rebecca sighed despondently. ‘Not great,’ she said, her expression troubled. ‘I’m really furious with Sam. I mean, I can understand why he would be attracted to Olivia – she’s probably much more his type than Laura – it’s just… Laura’s such a sensitive girl. I wish he hadn’t lied to her. I thought I’d brought him up to have more respect for women than that.’
‘He’s young yet.’ Richard smiled reassuringly, deposited the mugs and pulled her into his arms. ‘He’ll learn that lies are what hurt most, in time.’
Rebecca’s look was still troubled as she glanced up at him. ‘I hope so,’ she said. ‘We’ve had a few words, I’m afraid.’
‘And you’re upset.’ Richard scanned her eyes. She was, he realised. She actually looked very upset, which caused him a pang of guilt – something that was extremely troubling to him. These emotions were new, and despite years of role playing, pretending to be like other men – better than other men – he had no idea what to do with them or how to act.
Rebecca nodded. ‘I am a bit,’ she admitted, mustering up a smile and pressing a kiss to his cheek. ‘We’ve always been so close,’ she said, easing away from him to attend to the coffee. ‘And now he’s gone off in a huff. Things are a bit strained between us, to say the least, which I do find quite sad. We’ve only really ever had each other, you see, so—’
‘Oh no,’ Olivia interrupted, appearing from the stairs. ‘I’m so, so sorry, Becky. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I swear I didn’t.’
Rebecca glanced worriedly at Richard and then turned to where Olivia was standing, twisting the tissue she was holding into a knot and looking suitably distraught, to Richard’s irritation. Interrupting private moments between him and whichever woman he was with was something they’d agreed she would do. But actually, this time, he would much rather she didn’t.
‘You must absolutely hate me,’ Olivia went on tearfully.
Her expression a mixture of sympathetic and surprised, Rebecca went across to her. ‘I don’t hate you.’ She laughed kindly. ‘Why on earth would I?’
‘Because I’ve been awful. I’ve acted like a complete slut,’ Olivia blurted, actual tears springing from her eyes. ‘Laura must be so upset. And now you’re upset, and…’ She twisted her tissue tighter. ‘I wish I was dead.’
She was good, Richard thought, hiding his now immense irritation behind a tight smile. Running a hand over his neck, he watched agitatedly on as Rebecca gently lifted Olivia’s chin, she having dropped her gaze ashamedly to the floor.
‘Look at me,’ Rebecca urged, searching her eyes meaningfully. ‘You are not a slut. Having sex with someone doesn’t make you that, Olivia. What happened between you and Sam happened. That you’re upset about Laura is a good thing and actually makes you okay in my book. All right?’
‘Really?’ Olivia sniffled, her calculating cat’s eyes innocent and wide.
Christ, she should get an Oscar. Richard shook his head scornfully.
‘Really,’ Rebecca insisted forcefully. And then, to Richard’s bemusement, she kissed Olivia’s cheek and eased her into an embrace.
Richard acknowledged another emotion he’d rarely encountered as Olivia locked eyes with his. Aware that she was trying to win Rebecca’s affections, to compete with him, he felt jealousy tightening like a hard fist inside him. Also insurmountable fury, as he watched the scheming bitch give him a knowing wink over Rebecca’s shoulder.
FORTY-NINE
OLIVIA
PRESENT
Oh dear. If looks could kill, she would be dead on the spot. Smouldering with repressed anger, his eyes were shooting red-hot daggers right through her. Smiling smugly, Olivia lingered awhile in Rebecca’s embrace. Mmm, she smelled nice. Pressing her face to her long, slender neck, she made a great show of breathing in her enticing vanilla-and-rose fragrance, at which Richard raked a hand through his hair in frustration. Obviously he would be frustrated, as the realisation dawned that the power wasn’t all his, that he didn’t have sole control over the women. That he never had.
The first time he’d realised he’d be better off without his wife, he’d had to do nothing more than stand by and let events unfold, thanks to her. Her bitch mother had treated him like shit, thinking that because she’d bailed his business out of a hole and was privy to a few bribes he’d passed that she had a right to. She’d controlled him like a puppet: his finances; who they saw and when; whether they had children, which – already having one daughter who ‘physically and emotionally drained her’ – she didn’t want.
They’d argued constantly, even when they fucked.
She’d felt Richard’s pain when she heard the cow belittling him one night. Slurring her words, having downed enough wine to really lay into him, she’d been truly noxious, screaming at him because he’d obviously been unable to stop: ‘I don’t want your disgusting seed inside me!’ Did she not realise what that would do to a man’s self-esteem?
They’d been halfway through a door-slamming argument when her ‘loving mother’ had stumbled downstairs and clutched up her car keys, leaving to ‘stay anywhere but with him’.
‘You can barely walk straight, let alone drive!’ Richard had yelled from the top of the stairs, trying to stop her.
Olivia had joined him on the landing. ‘Let her go,’ she’d told him, watching the drunken mess stagger out of the front door. It was an accident, but it set a precedent. At eighteen years old she’d become instilled in Richard’s life. Posing as his daughter had been a masterstroke, making him ‘safe’ in women’s eyes. Her idea. Not his. They’d been a team ever since – the financial rewards immense, the sex potent. Olivia intended to keep it that way. But allowing him to think he dictated all the rules? Belittling her because he was bigger, and therefore imagined himself stronger? No way.
He’d hurt her today, crossed the line, leaving her with visible bruising. He’d scared her. The look in his eyes had been cool and indifferent, bordering on contemptuous, as he thrust cruelly into her, uncaring of her back slamming against the door jamb. Once he’d finished, he simply walked to the en suite without a word and closed the door.
Unacceptable, Richard. Not fair play. Not on! She fixed her own eyes hard on his. She could crush him in an instant, rip the foundations of his luxurious life from underneath him. He bloody well knew it. Ha! She felt a small sense of triumph when he looked away first, clearly now seething with fury. Such a shame the poor man had no one to vent it on. She doubted Rebecca would be amenable to the kind of sex he would need as an outlet to his emotions. And if he thought he could take her whenever the need ‘arose’ in future, he could damn well think again. Olivia had other fish to fry, starting with Sam. She squeezed Rebec
ca a touch closer.
‘I’ll go back upstairs,’ she said, smiling tremulously as she eased away from her. ‘Give you two some space. I’ll avoid seeing Sam as much as I can, obviously, until I move out.’
Surprised, Rebecca scrutinised her face. ‘You’re moving out?’ she asked, her brow creased in concern. ‘When?’
‘In a couple of weeks. I’m going to flat-share in Birmingham with an old friend from school.’ Olivia glanced towards Richard, who shook his head in cynical amusement. ‘She rang me the other day,’ she went on, for his benefit. ‘The rent’s really reasonable and I’ve already paid the deposit, so…’
Richard narrowed his eyes, clearly trying to work out whether she was bluffing. He would take her aside at some point, possibly even be nice to her while he tried to establish what was going on. If that didn’t work, he would demand to know, as if he had some God-given right to control her, body and soul. Well, she had news for him.
‘I hope this isn’t because of what happened with Sam.’ Rebecca looked worriedly over her shoulder at Richard, who quickly arranged his face to appear suitably concerned.
‘I thought it might make things less awkward.’ Olivia shrugged sadly. ‘For Sam and for Laura, as well as you two. You never know, they might even get back together.’
‘Oh, Liv… You don’t have to do that.’ Rebecca folded her back into her arms, giving her a firm hug this time. Richard’s expression was priceless. ‘Come on,’ she said, stepping back to place an arm around her shoulders, ‘let’s you and I go upstairs and have a good chat.’
Hesitantly, Olivia nodded and sniffled, and then gave Richard a victorious look from under her eyelashes. Touché.
The Second Wife Page 23
