Sweeter Than Revenge by Ann Christopher Read Free Book Online Page A

proud and returned her father’s level gaze. “No.”
    Ellis sighed harshly and looked past her to David, who shrugged and shook his head, gestures that screamed, Don’t look at me because I don’t know what to do with her, either, but what’d you expect from Maria in the first place?
    “Well, Maria,” Ellis said coolly, “I’ll let your boss deal with you now. I’ll deal with you later.”
    “Of course you will,” she muttered, seething at being treated like a two-year-old.
    Pursing his lips, Ellis left, leaving her alone with David, who looked like he wanted to run several of her fingers through the office shredding machine. Weak-kneed and breathless, but determined not to show it, Maria squared her shoulders and faced him.
    “Sit down,” David snarled. Jerking his left arm out, he glanced impatiently at his watch and indicated a chair right next to him. “I don’t have all day.”
    Without a word—no matter how nasty he was to her, she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of losing her temper—she ignored his clear instruction and dropped into the chair nearest her, twenty feet away from him at the other end of the enormous table. The corresponding tic in his tight jaw was especially satisfying. Just to see how far she could push the arrogant jerk, she raised her chin and gave him her most defiant stare. She wasn’t about to apologize for being late. Not to him. If he didn’t like it, that was just too bad.
    He watched her, brows lowered, in moody silence, apparently either plotting her gruesome death or trying to decide what to do with her. After a minute he got up and strode off. At the sideboard beneath a particularly ugly wall sculpture of swirls and squares, he poured a glass of ice water from the pitcher.
    “If you come to work an hour late again, you’re fired.” He raised the glass to his lips and drank in deep, loud gulps.
    “I’ll try to remember that,” she said to his back, and he snorted. “What’d I miss?”
    “Well, I met all the account assistants.” He studied the sculpture with absolute absorption, as if it was the Mona Lisa. “And then I talked about the importance of teamwork. Then we divided up the workload.”
    “So I didn’t miss anything important, then.”
    He didn’t seem to care for her little attempt at humor. With an angry thunk and a splash of water, he slammed his glass back on the tray, and then swung around to face her. If she’d been a weaker woman she’d have ducked before the cold fury in his eyes.
    “Why are you so mad at me?” she asked, poking the lion with her stick, provoking him because she needed to the way she needed water to drink and food to eat.
    “I’m not mad at you. I don’t feel anything for you.” Turning again, he reclaimed his seat and flipped through his stack of files, keeping his head lowered.
    She believed him. Once upon a time, he’d looked at her with warmth and longing, but no more. Now the ice in his tone matched the frigidity in his eyes, and the room vibrated with his animosity—malevolent and black. Clearly he couldn’t think bad enough thoughts about her.
    The ache of loss low in her belly plagued her again, stronger now. She remembered when he’d smiled at her, laughed with her and looked at her as if she was the single most glorious creature ever born. Young and foolish, she’d actually believed he loved her. Had it really been in this same lifetime?
    “You don’t feel anything for me?” she echoed bitterly. “Tell me something I don’tknow.”
    His head snapped up and he smiled crookedly. “Kwasi, on the other hand, seems to like you.”
    “So?”
    His jaw tightened. Looking down again, he found the file he’d been looking for, yanked it out and flipped it open, rattling papers. Abruptly he slammed the file shut, glared up at her and gestured with his pen. His lips pursed a couple of times, as if they meant to forcibly restrain something from coming out of his mouth, but then he spoke