The Billionaire's Bride of Vengeance

‘I can imagine. The man’s a natural bully. Was there any message back?’

‘I didn’t wait to find out.’

‘Oh…’

‘For a girl who didn’t want to see him again, you seem very interested in his movements.’

‘I just don’t want him getting back to me about anything.’

‘How can he, when he doesn’t have a clue where you’re staying in Sydney? You didn’t give him my name or address, did you?’

‘No.’

‘Then you don’t have to worry. The odds of your running into Mr Bully McClain again in a city of over four million people are next to zero!’

Russell read the text message without any visible reaction. But he had to make a conscious effort to relax his stomach muscles as he and Hugh walked to the next tee.

He’d been enjoying their golf game so far, finding it a pleasant distraction from thinking about the day before and his frustrating run-in with Nicole Power. He was also one shot in front, which was rare. Although a naturally talented sportsman, Russell didn’t play enough to seriously challenge Hugh, who spent more time on a golf course than he did behind his desk.

Russell wished now that he hadn’t asked Barbara to text him when those wretched keys arrived. All it had done was bring back disturbing memories—and even more disturbing desires.

Still, he’d been wise to get out of that house when he had yesterday. Even so, he’d had a dreadfully restless night, his male hormones giving him hell. Now they were back on high alert again.

Under the circumstances, he might be forced to pick up some starry-eyed female at James’s wedding this weekend. He couldn’t see himself lasting too many more nights without having some extremely satisfying sex.

Meanwhile, he had a golf game to win.

‘You do realise Jimmy-boy doesn’t love Megan,’ Hugh said just as Russell lined up for his drive on the tenth hole. ‘He’s only marrying her because she’s pregnant.’

Russell stopped his backswing in time, shooting Hugh a exasperated glance. ‘Are you trying to put me off? Because if you are, you’ve chosen the wrong tack. I already know all that.’

Russell should have anticipated Hugh’s disapproval. The three of them had been mates since school and knew each other very well. Of the trio, Hugh was by far the softest and most romantic in nature, despite having garnered a well-deserved reputation over the last decade as one of Sydney’s most notorious playboys.

‘He actually admitted it, did he?’ Hugh said, indignation in his voice.

‘No. He didn’t have to. Look, Hugh, we both know James is still hung up on Jackie. He’s marrying Megan to get what she couldn’t give him: a family.’

Russell had no problem with that. Sometimes, a man had to do what a man had to do.

‘He is overseas on business, isn’t he?’ Hugh asked with a scowl on his face. ‘He’s not still seeing that wretched woman, I hope.’

Hugh had not liked Jackie. He’d thought her a gold-digger. Hugh claimed to be able to spot members of that species at first sight, his position as only son and heir to the Parkinson Media fortune making him an expert on the subject.

‘Not that I know of,’ Russell said. But he wouldn’t put it past his friend. Since his divorce, James had developed a ruthless streak which surpassed even his.

James’s courtship of Megan had been a classic example. He’d pursued the girl with a passion which had even fooled Russell for a while. But soon after their engagement had been announced six short weeks ago—the day after Megan told him she was pregnant—James had done a flit overseas, minus his adoring and unsuspecting fiancée. He wasn’t due to return till tomorrow, the day before his wedding.