Ryan's Revenge

Along with the bowls was a small electric hotplate. Infuriatingly at home, he took it out and, having plugged it in, arranged the foil containers on it.

Loosening the lids, he suggested, ‘Why don’t you sit down and tell me what you’d like to start with?’

Still standing, she said curtly, ‘I don’t want anything to eat. I’ve lost my appetite.’

He raised dark level brows. ‘That’s a pity. Still if you’re quite sure you don’t want to eat, we could always start a precedent.’

Alarmed by the silky menace in his tone, the glint in his eye, she demanded, ‘What do you mean, start a precedent?’

‘Don’t you think it would be a nice change to be carried upstairs and made love to in bed?’

All the fight going out of her, she sat down abruptly.

White teeth gleamed as he laughed. ‘No? Oh, well…’ Taking a seat opposite, he queried, ‘So what’s it to be? The sesame prawn toast looks good.’ Leaning towards her, he offered her a piece.

His dark silk shirt was open at the neck, exposing the strong column of his throat. Remembering how she had sometimes buried her face against it when he’d made love to her, her mouth went dry.

Lifting her eyes, she met his ironic gaze, and felt the colour flood into her cheeks.

‘You look warm,’ he observed innocently. ‘Do you have any nice cool wine?’

Somehow she managed to say, ‘There’s a bottle open in the fridge.’

He found a couple of glasses and filled them with Chablis. Then, having helped them both to chicken and cashew nuts, he picked up his bamboo chopsticks and, sorting out one of the fat, gleaming cashews, reached across the table.

Without conscious volition, her mouth opened and he popped it in.

His action was like a blow to the solar plexus, winding her and making her heart thump erratically.

Eating their first meal together in New York’s Chinatown, she had mentioned that she only ordered that particular dish because she adored cashew nuts.

Loverlike, he had fed her the nuts from his own bowl. After that it had become a kind of tender ritual.

Except, of course, that it had only been play-acting. He might have wanted her, he undoubtedly had, but he had never loved her, had never felt any real tenderness for her. He had just wanted to use her.

But she had refused to be used, though it had broken her heart to leave him…

As though following her train of thought, Ryan said abruptly, ‘You still haven’t told me why you ran the way you did.’

‘You ought to know.’

‘If it was what I can only presume it was—’

‘Did you think I wouldn’t mind?’ she burst out. ‘Think I’d play along, let you use me and say nothing?’

He frowned. ‘I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. You’d better explain.’

Infuriated by his denial, she jumped to her feet. ‘I’ve no intention of explaining anything. I want you to go, and if you won’t go, then I will!’

As she turned away, he said quietly, ‘Sit down and finish your meal.’

Their glances met and clashed.

She wanted to disobey his order, to walk away, but she couldn’t leave, and she found herself subsiding into her chair.

After a moment, he asked softly, ‘Why didn’t you at least let me know you were safe?’

‘Why do you suppose?’

‘You didn’t think I might worry about you?’

‘I tried not to think of you at all.’

‘What about the rest of the family?’

When she said nothing, he went on, ‘They were all very upset and concerned that you’d gone without a word. Beth in particular…’

‘I’m sorry about that. I liked your stepmother.’ It was the truth. In fact, with one exception, she’d liked the whole family.

‘She had another heart attack,’ he added flatly.

Virginia caught her breath.

Seeing the apprehension on her face, Ryan said quickly, ‘A fairly mild one, thank the Lord.’

‘Then, she’s all right?’

‘She made a good recovery. Which is just as well.’

‘You mean if she hadn’t, you would have held me responsible?’

‘I do hold you responsible.’

Virginia flinched at the bitter irony. It had been mainly to safeguard his stepmother’s fragile state of health that she had chosen to run as she did.

‘Do Janice and Steven?’

‘What do you think?’

Her heart sank. Still, it was better that they should blame her, a comparative stranger, rather than know something that would almost certainly tear their close-knit family apart.

One half of her still wondered incredulously how Ryan had been able to do what he did. But perhaps he’d found it impossible to help himself? Love could be a powerful, overriding force…

As could the need for revenge.

Though more sinned against than sinning, she had wrecked all his carefully laid plans and, in his own eyes at least, had made him look a fool.

Not something a man like him would easily forgive.