Rendezvous With Revenge

‘My clothes?’ she repeated blankly, her mind still back on her perturbing weakness for the man.

‘You do own something other than that black skirt and white blouse you wear every Friday, don’t you?’

Abby thought of all the designer clothes hanging up in her wardrobe at home in Killara. They wouldn’t really have dated, being timeless classical styles. She didn’t doubt they would still be there either. She would have no trouble getting them if she went during the day, when her father was at the office.

‘Actually, I have quite an extensive wardrobe,’ she replied coolly, resenting both the criticism and scepticism built into his question.

‘Yes, but what type of clothes?’ he countered derisively. ‘You must appreciate any lady friend of mine will be expected to be well dressed. Nothing cheap or flashy.’

‘I am never cheap or flashy.’

‘You’re certainly not cheap, I’ll give you that,’ he muttered drily. ‘And other than one wayward button, you haven’t been flashy either. So far,’ he added cynically. ‘But I wouldn’t like any nasty little surprises once we get down to the hotel. Which reminds me—there’s nothing in your past or present which would preclude you taking this job, is there?’

One very good reason catapulted into Abby’s mind and she gulped. Surely there wouldn’t be anyone at this conference who knew about her trial or her sentence? It had not been in any of the papers. Her father hadn’t been prepared to help her with a decent lawyer, but he had used his influence to suppress any publicity.

‘Such as what?’ she asked, guilt making her sharp.

‘God only knows. You haven’t graced the centrefold of any of the better known men’s magazines, have you? Or any of the lesser ones, for that matter. I’m well aware that Sylvia hired you without checking into your background too extensively. I didn’t come down in the last shower, Abby. When a girl’s hard up for money and has a figure as good as yours, she might be talked into doing things not too savoury.’

Any guilt disappeared as Abby almost blew a gasket. Not too savoury! What in hell did he think she was doing now, going away with him? Lord, who did he think he was, looking down his nose at her when he was the one paying for her dubious companionship? As for her figure... She was fed up with him equating her lush curves with loose morals.

‘I’ve never done a thing I’m ashamed of, Dr Grant,’ she said with cold dignity. Till now, that is, she added silently. ‘Believe me when I say I will do you proud as your...er... girlfriend. You won’t have cause to complain.’

‘Mmm. That’s to be seen, isn’t it? By the way, can you play tennis at all?’

‘Yes, but I...’

‘You don’t have to be proficient,’ he cut in dismissively. ‘Adequate will do. I suppose it’s too much to ask if you can play golf as well?’

His patronising tone made Abby seethe. She’d only been going to say that she didn’t have a racket.

If I ever get him on a tennis-court or a golf-course... she vowed blackly. Thank you, Father, for all those holidays filled with never-ending lessons. You did do something for me after all.

‘Actually, I do play golf. A little,’ she added, not wanting to give the enemy advance warning.

‘You’ve surprised me, Miss Richmond. I would have thought your talents lay elsewhere than on the sporting field.’

Abby decided to ignore that remark. He would keep. ‘I wish you’d make up your mind what you’re going to call me,’ she said waspishly. ‘One minute it’s Abby, and then we’re back to Miss Richmond.’

‘You’re quite right. But I don’t feel altogether comfortable calling you Abby. Shall we compromise and make it Abigail?’

‘Whatever you wish. You’re the boss. Just so long as I know where I stand and what to expect. Speaking of what to expect, I’m not going to get any nasty little surprises when we get to the hotel, am I?’

The silence on the line was electric for a few seconds. Abby had no doubts now that Ethan had some hidden agenda at this conference, and it was beginning to niggle her.

‘Meaning?’ he asked coldly.

Meaning what are you up to, you conniving devil? she wanted to say. What is making you pay three thousand dollars to have me there as your pretend lover?

‘Meaning you wouldn’t be the first man I’ve come across who was a wolf in gentleman’s clothing,’ she tossed back instead. ‘I don’t want to have to fight you off every night.’

He laughed drily. ‘How beautifully blunt you can be, Abigail. I rather admire it. Actually, I rather admire you. You are a girl of rare spirit and a quite tantalisingly enigmatic character. On top of that, you’ve never resorted to the manipulative ploys an attractive female in your position might be tempted to use. But, no... you don’t have to worry about fighting me off. Rape has never appealed to me, and seducing you is not part of my plan.’

‘What plan?’ Abby just had to say, not believing his back-handed compliments for one moment. He despised her for some reason, and had never bothered to hide that fact. Maybe he despised all females with a bust size over AA?

‘That, my dear Abigail,’ he drawled, ‘is none of your business.’

And that, my dear Doctor, is an evasion.

But she didn’t say it. It really wasn’t a wise course of action to persist, not if she wanted that three thousand dollars.

‘Fair enough, Doctor. You can keep your little secret.’

‘Ethan.’

‘What?’

‘Call me Ethan.’

‘Oh... oh, yes, I suppose I’ll have to. I hope I’ll remember.’

‘Have a practice right now, then. Say yes, Ethan. No, Ethan. Three bags full, Ethan.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘Say it,’ he bit out.

Abby quivered deep inside at his darkly forceful tone.

‘Y-yes, Ethan,’ she started hesitantly. Then, ‘No, Ethan,’ much more firmly, followed by, ‘Three bags full, Ethan,’ in a dry, challenging tone.

‘See?’ he scorned. ‘You didn’t have any trouble at all. Though perhaps you could practise putting a little more warmth into my name between now and Friday. Say it the way you just did in the presence of others and they’ll think you want to kill me, not kiss me.’

Well, they’d be wrong, she thought ruefully. She wanted to do both. Kill him and kiss him. Damn, but she was actually enjoying sparring with him this way. It had a decidedly sexual edge to it. Abby was hotly aware that her pulse had started racing and that her cheeks were quite flushed with an unbidden excitement. Thank the Lord they were on the phone and be couldn’t see her.

‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said, surprised by her cool tone. Heavens, she was a much better actress than she’d realised. Who knew? Maybe she might just be able to pull this fiasco off without getting her fingers burnt. If she started getting too hot and bothered over the sexy surgeon, she would simply remember Dillon. Thinking of that bastard always had a chilling effect. If that failed, she would concentrate on a simple survival. Now that she’d lost her weekend job, she needed her Friday job more than ever.

‘Tell me the agenda for Friday,’ she said in a businesslike tone. ‘What do you want me to do?’

‘We’re supposed to arrive at Bungarla some time between three and five. I’m still operating on the Friday morning, and I do have a patient who’s travelling down from the country to see me that day as well. I told her to meet me at my rooms at one.’

‘Do you want me to come in as usual, then?’

‘No. That’s not necessary. Be at the surgery by one-thirty. I should be finished by then. I’m told the trip down to Bungarla shouldn’t take any more than two hours.’

‘What do you think I should wear for the trip down?’

‘Something casual, but smart. It’ll be pretty cool down that way of an evening in the autumn, so pop in a jacket as well. And don’t forget to pack suitable clothes for tennis and golf. Oh, and throw in a swimsuit. According to the brochure they sent, there’s a heated pool.’