The Art of Retaliation (4 page)

“I don’t know why.
 
I
suppose I never had an opportunity to give it back to him.”
 
She paused. “No that’s a lie.
 
I had plenty of time, I suppose a part
of me didn’t want to let go of what could have been.”

Her sentence finished with an unexpected sob.
 
Mara sat down on the bed angry with
herself for crying.
 
She didn’t
allow herself to get upset anymore.
 
It was over.
 
Mara dried her
eyes and studied the cluster of diamonds around a solitary sapphire and then in
fury threw it across the room.

‘I hate him,’ she screamed.

Maxine put her arm around her friend.
 
She didn’t know quite how to act.
 
It was usually Maxine breaking down over
the departure of her latest boyfriend with Mara there picking up the
pieces.
 
Maxine stood from the bed
and picked up the ring.
 
Without
further hesitation she took it to the open window and vigorously threw it out
into the air.
 
She didn’t watch it
land.
 
It would land in the moat.
Mara found herself lunging forward to stop her and then halted.
 
Throwing the ring away was like throwing
away part of her life but one she had to end.
 
She remained silent as Maxine closed the
window on her memories.

Evening approached and Maxine was allowed to return to her room to
get dressed for dinner.
 
Mara was
tempted to make an entrance in her shorts and spoil the evening but thought it
best not to antagonize
Stephane
.
 
She dressed elegantly in a plain cream
silk dress.
 
It tied around her neck
in a halter to pour over her breasts, molding them into perfect shape against
her chest, creating a tantalizing v shape that dipped between her
cleavage
.

She combed her hair frowning in the mirror at her skin that even
looked pale under her light tan.
 
The situation with
Stephane
was doing nothing
to help stress she was already under.
 
She opened the gold locket around her neck that contained the pictures
of her father and mother and brother Peter.
 
If only Peter was there he would know
what to do.
 
She closed it, he
wasn’t there and it was something she would have to deal with on her own.
 
Her reflection stared back, the effect
stunning but she still wasn’t happy and began to maniacally comb her hair once
again.

Maxine’s parting words echoed in her mind.
 
She was right.
 
They had to do whatever was necessary to
get out of the house and away from the billionaire.
 
It was very likely that Ryan would fail
to come through and they didn’t know how
Stephane
would react.

Maxine wanted Mara to use her attraction between her and
Stephane
to their advantage, even if it meant making love
to him.
 
Who was she trying to
kid?
 
She had only ever slept with
one man.
 
Mara was convinced she
lacked the confidence to pull it off.
 
The only man she had ever known intimately was Ryan.

Their relationship had started in University and they had become
inseparable.
 
But time and time
again he prolonged their engagement, insisting that money was the problem and
why didn’t they wait until they were more established in their careers, and
like a fool she had believed him.
 
Most of her twenties had been spent waiting for Ryan and now she was in
the beginnings of her thirties and felt more than ready for marriage had she
wanted to admit it.
 
She made a face
in the mirror remembering how she had caught Ryan making love to his secretary,
lying backwards over his desk, Ryan between her damp thighs, moaning as he took
a breast between his teeth.

She had forgiven him of course, that first time.
 
But anger was a strong emotion and Ryan
had filled her to the brim with its hunger.
 
She was dammed if she was ever going to
let another man make a fool out of her or let him have what he wanted for
free.
 
If she slept with any man it
would be on her terms and when she decided.
 
She would just have to find some other
way to get at
Stephane
.

Mara rechecked her hair and dabbed a gentle musk perfume to her
wrists and the nape of her neck before going to find Maxine.

Maxine was a sharp contrast with a short pale green dress that
brought out the fiery color of her emerald eyes and flattered the long slim
legs beneath.

“Mara, you look beautiful.
 
Come and meet Leon.”

Mara eyed her quizzically and followed her along the hall.
 
She watched Maxine link arms with the
handsome fair headed man who’d held her in such a tight grip the night before
and whose nose she had tried to break with a punch.
 
She was satisfied to see that there was
slight bruising along its ridge.

“Leon, you know, Mara,” Maxine cooed forgetting the situation.

“How could I forget,” he sneered then smiled.

Maxine winked at Mara making her groan inwardly.
 
She had made another conquest.
 
Mara followed them down the stairs to
see the billionaire waiting for them dressed in a tuxedo like Leon.
 
He was giving her the same powerful
stare that he had the night before.
 
She found her heart beginning to beat faster and her
body
grow
warm.
 
Too warm.
 
Alarmed by the reaction that he always seemed to provoke in her when he
was near, she moved her eyes frantically away trying to rest on an object,
anything to help her keep control.

“Mara, you are looking very beautiful tonight,’ he told her softly
taking her arm.

She forced herself to look at him and frowned.

“Really?” she mocked believing he was being sarcastic.

“Don’t frown,” he said dominantly cupping her chin to lift her face.

She stared into the ice blue pools and found herself paralyzed as
though he were a magician hypnotizing her mind.

‘Hasn’t Ryan ever praised your appearance, you act as though he
never has.
 
What is that scent you
are wearing?’

He moved close, bending his head to the side of her neck and then to
the cleft of her breasts.
 
Her heart
beat a staccato rhythm and she was sure she was going to lose her footing on
the stairs if he came any closer, or even worse her common sense.
 
But that was what he was counting on she
mused.

“It’s called Scarlett,” she said backing away her voice a little
shaky.

He stood straight again, a smile of amusement lining his lips,
creasing his handsome face.
 
He
lifted her hand and turned it over to bring her wrist to his nose.
 
She looked at her hand, so small and
delicate in his larger male palm.

‘The scent is perfect for you.”

He ran a thumb over the pulse point on her wrist in a moving circle
as if the action was natural, watching her breathing hasten into little gasps
and her eyes glaze with moisture.
 
She was transfixed, ensnared in his trap and now all he had to do was to
reel her in.
 
He lifted the wrist to
bring it to his lips to prolong the agony but she surprised him and snatched it
back, her features turning hard with resolve.
 

The billionaire caught her arm again as she passed just to remind
her of his domination in their struggle.
 
His sudden tense features betraying his frustration that she had rebuked
his advance.
 
He led her to the
dining room.
 

They walked through a string of rooms within rooms and finally
reached the dining area.
 
Stephane
guided her to the large antique mahogany
table.
 
The
centre
piece
of the room and
pulled out a high backed chair covered in cream velvet.
 
The room was decorated with Flemish
tapestries dating back to the 16
^th
century displaying scenes of
castle life.
 
Apart from the silver
chandelier and the large Renaissance fireplace sculpted in heavy white stone
and gold leaf, there was not much else in the room.

Stephane
sat down
at the head of the table seating her next to him at his side.
 
He said nothing patiently waiting for
the rest of the household to enter and sit.
 
Not long after, an older woman entered
and the male contingent rose with deep respect including
Stephane
.
 
The display was reverent and Mara could
only guess that she was the billionaire’s mother.
 
She sat down facing
Stephane
at the other end of the table and the men obediently took their seats once
again.

“Mara, I would like to introduce you to my mother.
 
Mammon, this is Mara Logan and Maxine
Villeneuve.”

The older woman nodded.

“I am pleased to meet you.
 
I trust your stay has been…” she paused to rethink her words.
 
“Comfortable so far.”

Mara felt her eyebrows prickle and raise.
 
The woman was treating her like a
guest.
 
The whole family was insane.

“I beg your pardon, Madame, but I am not here on holiday.
 
We have been brought here against our
will by your son because he mistakenly believes I am involved in a plot to
deprive your daughter of her inheritance.”

Her voice was clear, collected and authoritative.

“Yes.”

A demure smile cracked Chantal
Garreau’s
finely wrinkled mouth.
 
She folded
her worn hands in front of her as she watched the butler pour her a glass of
mineral water.

“Unfortunately we had no choice.
 
And I don’t think a mistake has been
made.”

The voice was equally authoritative and it was clear she would prove
a formidable opponent.
 
Cold grey
eyes stared back at Mara.
 
The
woman’s silver hair was cut into an old fashioned bob.
 
Not a hair moved from its place.
 
Her nails were blood red, no doubt from
the victims she had thrashed with her tongue and were bright against a pea
green flowing dress.

“So you are part of this?” Mara demanded.

The woman glanced at her son who was watching Mara intently with
heavy concern.
 
She didn’t like
Mara.
 
The evidence was clear on her
pinched
features. Nor did she like the attention her
son was paying the young woman.

“Yes I am,” she said lazily.
 
“In fact it was my idea.”

‘Well you may be good enough to tell me more.
 
Where has Ryan taken her?
 
I hear she is ill . . . Whatever Ryan
has done it isn’t any excuse for kidnapping.
 
He should be dealt with by the law.”

Mara stood to give the final point of her speech and allowed her
voice to rise, causing the room to fall silent.

“Madame, if you do not allow us to leave immediately, I am going to
ensure that both your son and yourself will be prosecuted.
 
That will mean a prison sentence and at
your time of life Madame, I do not believe that will be of any help.”

Triumphant at her declaration, Mara gave the floor to her opponent.

Stephane
coolly
tasted the wine that was to be served that evening, watching the spectacle
before him with interest.
 
Not once
did he interfere appearing to enjoy watching Mara and the movement of her body
as she spoke.
 
They were like two
gladiators in a crowded auditorium.
  
Mara was holding court again as she had done the night before and was
quite impressive, a worthy adversary for his mother who could more than hold
her own in an argument.