Her Perfect Revenge by Anna Mara Read Free Book Online

accident—literally. And he'd never, in a million-years, figure out that she'd actually been following him. Besides, her name would be on the police report anyway—
    "You don't know your name?" Bill teasingly prodded.
    "Christina. Christina Matteo."
    There, she'd said it. Did he remember her now? Christina searched his face for any spark of recognition; but there was none. Her name hadn't rung a bell in that alcohol-damaged brain of his at all. She refocused on what he was saying.
    "Well, Christina Matteo, you'll be hearing from my insurance company." He smiled then—that smile someone gives you when they know they've got you cornered.
    Christina shot him a dirty look. "I'm in the book," she decreed, before turning to leave.
    "You'd better get a good one; a lawyer, I mean."
    She turned to glare at him. He was smiling again—that damn, superior smile. Boy, she'd love to smack that off his face.
    Coyly, she smiled at him. "Are you going to sue me for personal injury too?”
    "What?"
    "In case 'it's' not working." Christina pointed to his private parts.
    The smug look was instantly wiped off of Bill's face. "Don't worry your pretty little head. Everything's fine down there," he announced proudly.
    "Well, I did hit you very hard and I've read that when that happens to a man, he may not be able to—function properly. But it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It happens to a lot of men," Christina gave him her best fake smile of concern. Take that, you bastard, she thought.
    Bill, suddenly, returned her smile and limped closer. He leaned into her face and whispered, "I'm not worried. Know why? Because it's—functioning—right now, thanks to you, Ms. Matteo. You can take a look, if you don't believe me."
    Christina glowered into his green eyes as he continued to smile at her with those perfect white teeth of his. The cad! He was enjoying this and getting turned on by the game—her game—and getting turned on by her.
    She was repulsed. "Mr. Havenwood, I wouldn't turn you on if I was on fire and you were the nearest faucet."
    He laughed then—a good, hearty, laugh. He was truly enjoying himself. Christina thought that last crack would have insulted him but it hadn't.
    Damn it. Well, she wasn't going to stand here and spar with this creep any longer. Dismissing him, she turned and walked to the police cruiser. But she could hear his laughter following her—just like all those years ago—and it sent chills down her spine.
    Christina approached Officer Robbins. "Excuse me, but his car? Can that really be fifty thousand dollars worth of damage?"
    The officer looked back to the accident scene. "Probably."
    Christina bit her lip hard. So Havenwood hadn't been lying. Where was she going to get that kind of money?
    The colossal jam she was in finally registered in Christina's brain and she suddenly felt faint. Not only was she now without a car herself; but she owed all that money for his car too? She should never have started this revenge thing; never. It had been a big mistake. But at least, he hadn't remembered her; she was pretty sure of that. But Christina didn't know whether to feel relieved or insulted. Had she been that forgettable?
    Bill Havenwood had gotten the better of her in the past.
    He had done it again today—for the second time in her life.
     

     

Chapter 10
    In the end, Christina was charged with careless driving and driving without insurance. And as for the damages to Havenwood's Ferrari? She'd been told by Officer Robbins that she would probably be taken to court and have her wages garnished for a very long time. She'd then avoided Havenwood while the tow trucks were removing the mangled cars and had taken pictures of the accident scene with her camera. After all, they might help her in court.
    Christina had felt his eyes on her the whole time she was shooting the frames but she didn't acknowledge him with a look of her own. She just couldn't deal with him anymore that day. She'd had enough.
    After