A Past Revenge by Carole Mortimer Read Free Book Online Page A

furious, making no secret of the fact, suggesting he and Audra leave immediately. After he had kissed her so contemptuously Danielle had made it clear to him that if he ever attempted to do it again she would see to it personally that some injury befell him.
    She may have decided his despicable behaviour deserved retaliation this time, but she wasn't going to make any of this easy for him. She had been an easy conquest for him once before, she wasn't about to be so again, intended him to feel the humiliation of being bought when the time came.
    'Use your imagination, Lewis,' she mocked him now.
    His eyes widened. 'You really turned him down?' He didn't sound as if that were possible.
    'Well of course I did,' she taunted his dismay. 'Have you forgotten I'm painting his mistress?'
    'No. But—'
    'Really, Lewis,' she lightly mocked. 'I'm shocked at this mercenary streak in you.'
    He looked uncomfortable at the jibe. 'I just wouldn't like to upset an important client like him.'
    'Did you hear him say anything about being upset?'
    No. .. .'
    'Then don't worry so much,' she teased him. 'I can handle Mr Andracas.'
     
    'I hope so.' But he didn't look very convinced by her confidence.
    Danielle was very sure of that confidence, knew exactly what she was doing, and why.
    She left her answering machine on the next day, not going to be available to Nick if he should happen to call. He didn't. She wasn't too surprised, knew that his will was as strong if not stronger than her own. But she also knew how determined he could be, that he didn't like to lose at anything he tried to do. He would approach her again, she felt sure of it.
    Thursday turned out to be as unproductive where he was concerned, but still she didn't worry. This was a battle of wills, and after seven years of waiting for a revenge that had lain dormant in her until the moment he tried to take her for a fool a second time she felt she would be the victor in this particular battle. She had patience on her side for one thing, something Nick had shown he had little of.
    Six telephone calls from him on Friday convinced her how right she was! All of them asked her to return his call, giving her the telephone number to do so, but she ignored every one of them. For once Nick Andracas was going to have to do more than click his fingers to get a woman to fall into bed with him. This particular woman anyway!
    It was shortly before seven when someone pressed down impatiently on her doorbell and kept their finger there. Nick. She hadn't expected him to call personally quite so soon, but she wasn't worried by the visit, filled with a cool composure as she went to answer the door.
    'Why the hell haven't you answered any of my calls?' he demanded without preamble, his expression grim as he strode uninvited into her apartment.
     
    'Calls?' she followed him, feigning innocence, but taking in the tailored brown suit and cream shirt he was wearing.
    'Yes,' he rasped, turning to glower at her. 'I've telephoned you half a dozen times today.'
    'I always leave my answering machine on while I'm working,' she shrugged. 'I haven't got round to listening to my messages yet today.'
    'That isn't very efficient if someone needs to reach you urgently,' he said grimly.
    She looked unconcerned by his vehemence, secretly elated that he was so upset. 'Most people call back,' she shrugged.
    'I did,' he ground out. 'Five times!'
    'As I told you, I haven't— '
    'I heard you,' he cut in impatiently.
    Danielle met his gaze coolly. 'Do you have new instructions for the portrait?' she pretended innocence at his reason for wanting to talk to her, although in reality the first of the messages had clearly invited her out to dinner this evening.
    'Damn the portrait,' he predictably swore, his anger barely held in check. 'You know why I want to see you.'
    'No—'
    'Don't play games with me, Danielle,' his hands were clenched at his sides. 'Especially these sort of games. I don't participate very well.'
    'And I don't