Vengeful Love by Laura Carter Read Free Book Online Page A

all over my body. My breath catches in my throat and I put my spare hand on the first thing it touches to steady my weak legs. That first thing happens to be Jackson’s shoulder, and he’s trying not to smirk, mocking me with his eyes. I suspect he’s seen Gregory’s effect on women countless times.
    “Erm, sorry, Jackson. Thank you.” I manage to fumble my words so they’re just about comprehensible.
    “You’re more than welcome, Miss Heath.” His voice is a low, masculine rumble.
    I’m already walking away when it strikes me that he knows my name. I turn to ask him how but Gregory tugs slightly on my hand.
    “After you,” he says, signaling for me to walk ahead of him onto the short red carpet laid out to welcome guests.
    “The third tallest building in London after One Canada Square and, of course, now the Shard. Nice choice, Mr. Ryans.”
    His eyes narrow but there’s a ghost of a smug smile on his face. I bite down on my bottom lip, trying to suppress my desire to taste him. A concierge in black dinner trousers, a white jacket fastened with dazzling gold buttons and the shiniest black patent shoes I’ve ever seen, holds open the door.
    Inside, we’re received by another similarly dressed concierge. “Good evening,” he says to me. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Ryans.” The sound of my stilettos against the marble tiles echoes as we all follow him to the lift.
    He greets Williams and Amanda in similar fashion and the mirror-panelled doors close. Catching a glimpse of my reflection, I shuffle awkwardly, repositioning my dress and wondering if I’m underdressed.
    “Your eyes look fierce in that colour,” Amanda whispers into my ear.
    People have always commented on my green-and-hazel eyes, ever since I was a girl, but I’ll never understand it. They’re as ordinary as every other part of me.
    The lift doors open onto another marble floor, leading to a marble desk where we are greeted by a beautiful lady with a high-gloss blond French roll, wearing a tight black skirt and white shirt that show her perfect curves. Her bright blues are alive and wild as she studies Gregory. I half expect her to lick her lips on a growl and start humping his leg. He never pays her more than a cursory glance but I’m struck by an irrational sense of jealousy.
    “Good evening, Mr. Ryans, let me show you to your table,” she says, fluttering her eyelids one too many times, in my opinion.
    “I bet she’d like to show Mr. Ryans a lot more than that,” I mutter to myself, all the while smiling graciously at her delayed acknowledgement that Mr. Ryans has guests.
    Amanda tugs my shoulder, pulling my head back toward her as we walk in line to our table. “Who is this man?” she whispers. “I feel like I should have known him before I met him.”
    A young male waiter is already standing to attention like a toy soldier next to our table.
    “Wow, the view of the city is stunning from here,” I say, genuinely struck by the lights twinkling from each tower block and bridge of London. “How high up are we?” I ask the waiter as he guides me towards the window seat on one side of the table.
    “We’re on the fortieth floor, Miss Heath. The highest restaurant in the city,” he replies proudly, placing a black napkin across my lap before doing the same for Amanda. Once again, I’m left wondering how a complete stranger knows my name.
    “Would you like the usual to drink, Mr. Ryans?” the waiter asks.
    “Thank you, yes,” Gregory instructs. The waiter immediately scuttles away.
    “What’s the usual?” I ask Gregory, who’s taken the seat opposite mine.
    He looks me in the eye as he responds and I’m forced to look away to the view beneath us for fear he might see right through my business facade to my racing heart.
    “A bottle of Pol Roger 2002 to start, followed by a bottle of Penfolds Grange 1998.” His voice hosts an edge of superiority.
    “Oh good, I was worried you’d try to impress us by