The Billionaire’s Bride Of Vengeance Read online

  Nicole pulled a face. ‘I lost my joie de vivre back in June.’

  ‘Then it’s high time you found it again. At Megan’s wedding.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a wedding. But I’ll go, provided you do me one favour.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘After we lock up here, I want you drive to the Bondi branch of McClain Real Estate.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘I’ve been ordered to drop off my set of house keys there. But I don’t want to go in myself. Would you do it for me? I don’t want to run the risk of seeing that man ever again!’

  ‘Coward,’ Kara said with a cheeky grin…

  ‘You needn’t have worried,’ Kara told her half an hour later. ‘He wasn’t there. He’s out playing golf. But the receptionist said she’d been instructed to text him as soon as the keys arrived.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘Oh, yes. Straight away.’

  ‘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.

  Russell suspected that the pregnancy had been planned. Not by Megan, but by James. No way would he want to find himself with another wife who couldn’t have children, which had been the unfortunate case with Jackie. When she’d discovered that she was infertile Jackie had insisted on a divorce, refusing James’s suggestion that they try IVF or adoption. Russell had never seen his friend so distraught as he’d been at that time in his life.

  Not that James had openly voiced his distress. He was not a man to talk about his personal problems. Neither would he ever let them totally rule or ruin his life.

  Hence his marriage to Megan, who was one of the sweetest girls Russell had ever met.

  ‘It’s all right for you,’ Hugh said somewhat disgruntedly. ‘You’re not the best man. You don’t have to make a speech. How can I stand up there and rave on about how much James loves Megan when I know it’s not true?’

  ‘Could we leave this conversation till I’ve hit off?’ Russell replied, then promptly smashed the golf ball a good sixty metres down the fairway, at least twenty metres past Hugh’s ball.

  Hugh whistled. ‘What’s got into you today? You suffering from a testosterone overload or something?’

  ‘Possibly,’ Russell replied, his mind once again filling with the image of a certain blonde standing naked in that made-for-two shower. ‘You might as well know, I guess. Yesterday, I bought Alistair Power’s mansion in Belleview Hill.’

  Hugh wasn’t surprised, which was understandable. Both Hugh and James knew how he felt about Power. The three of them had been room-mates at uni when Russell’s father had committed suicide. He’d confessed everything that had happened afterwards to the other two. Although they’d never discussed it, they’d known what had been driving Russell all these years.

  ‘For how much?’ Hugh asked.

  ‘Twenty mil.’

  ‘But you’d have paid double that, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘Yep.’

  Hugh cocked his head on one side, his expression speculative. ‘Just how much were you responsible for what happened to Power Mortgages?’

  ‘Power’s greed was ultimately responsible,’ Russell bit out. ‘I just gave things a helping hand.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ Hugh muttered. ‘So is that it, Russ? Is it over?’

  Russell shrugged. ‘There’s nothing much more I can do, is there? Power’s escaped. And I doubt very much if he’s broke. He’s probably out there on some island in the Bahamas, sipping pina coladas.’

  ‘Let it go, mate. Let it go and move on.’

  ‘That’s easier said than done. Getting even with that bastard has become a way of life.’

  ‘I do see that. But like you said, you’ve done all that can be done. It’s time you made a different life for yourself.’

  ‘And what, exactly, would you suggest?’

  ‘You could consider having a real relationship with a girl for a change? Perhaps even consider a child or two?’

  Russell stared at his friend. ‘Am I hearing you right? You’re suggesting that I do what James is doing? Marry some nice girl I don’t love just to have children?’

  ‘Who says you won’t love her? From what I’ve seen, you’ve never given love a chance. You might surprise yourself.’

  ‘I never surprise myself. I’m just like you, my friend. I don’t do love and commitment. But enough of m
e. Back to your problem as best man. Why don’t you rave on about how much Megan loves James?’ Russell suggested as he swept up his tee, then shoved his jumbo-sized driver back in his golf bag. ‘That’s true enough. Then concentrate on how beautiful a bride she is. No one will notice that you don’t mention the bridegroom’s affections. Leave it up to him to lie. He’s obviously very good at it.’

  ‘I don’t get it,’ Hugh grumbled as they made their way down the fairway. ‘I would have thought you’d have seriously disapproved of this marriage. You’re always going on about honesty being the best policy.’

  ‘There’s honesty and honesty, Hugh,’ Russell replied. ‘Sometimes a little white lie doesn’t do any harm. James will make a good husband and father. Megan will never know that his heart is elsewhere.’

  ‘Don’t be too sure about that. Some day, someone is going to say something. Jim should have told her the truth from the start. She would still have married him.’

  ‘I doubt that. A girl as sensitive as Megan wouldn’t like being short-changed in the love department.’

  Hugh sighed. ‘Marriage is a trap for all players, especially when big money’s involved. I don’t want anything to do with it.’

  ‘You’ve certainly made no secret of that.’

  ‘One has to learn from experience,’ Hugh pontificated. ‘And from history. I’m just like my father. I need variety when it comes to women. My boredom threshold is spectacularly low. What I don’t need, however, is a string of ex-wives, like dear old Dad has acquired. He’s damned lucky that none except my mother produced offspring, or he’d be broke by now.’

  Russell laughed. ‘Broke? The man’s a billionaire ten times over!’

  ‘That’s beside the point. For an intelligent man, Dad is extremely thick about his sex addiction. I’ve learned the difference between love and lust, and I live accordingly.’

  ‘Give the man a medal.’

  Hush’s bedroom-blue eyes shot daggers at Russell. ‘You can be a judgemental bastard, do you know that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Hypocritical as well. You criticise my sex life yet you’re doing pretty much the same.’

  ‘We’re both bad bastards when it comes to the fairer sex.’

  ‘Not as bad as Jimmy-boy. I have a dreadful feeling about this marriage, Russ. Do you think it’s too late to talk him out of it?’

  ‘I’ve already tried.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘You know James. He’s as stubborn as a mule. Now, let’s stop this futile conversation and play golf.’

  Hugh shrugged resignedly. Russ was right. Jim was not good at taking advice. But it was a shame, he thought. Megan was a darling. Not his type, of course. He liked women with spirit.

  Thinking of women with spirit reminded him of the one woman in his life who had too much spirit—his PA, Kathryn.

  What a slave-driver! She actually expected him to go to the office every day, and made her disapproval loud and clear when he didn’t. Lately he’d found himself actually going to work most mornings, just to shut her up. It was no wonder Russ was beating him today. Hell, he hadn’t played golf in over a week!

  The situation could not continue. He’d have to get rid of her. But how? She’d never given him any cause to fire her. She was perfection as an employee. Capable and conscientious, never taking a day off, never arriving late or leaving early.

  Her fiancé had his pity. She was going to make a dreadful wife. A real nag, keeping tabs on him every minute of the day and always wanting everything to be just so.

  Of course, there would be some compensation for a husband putting up with her unrelenting standards. She was, without doubt, one of the sexiest women he’d ever met.

  Not pretty, or beautiful.

  Sexy.

  ‘You’ve just walked right past your ball,’ Russell pointed out.

  ‘What? Oh, yeah…right.’

  ‘I can see now why I’m winning. Your mind is elsewhere. So what’s the problem? A woman?’

  ‘Got it in one.’

  ‘Can’t get her into bed, is that it?’

  A light went on in Hugh’s brain. He hadn’t realised up till this moment why he’d hired Kathryn Hart in the first place, and why he was now thinking about firing her.

  ‘You’ve hit the nail right on the head, Russ,’ he muttered. Damn, why hadn’t he realised this earlier?

  ‘You’ll find a way, mate,’ his friend said drily. ‘You always do.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  NICOLE’S gasp of shock sent Kara’s head whipping round to face her friend.

  ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s him,’ was all Nicole could manage.

  ‘Who?’ Kara frowned as she followed the direction of Nicole’s stunned gaze to the three men who stood at the head of the church aisle. ‘You can’t mean the groom. And you certainly can’t mean the best man. That’s Hugh Parkinson. Everyone in Sydney knows Hugh Parkinson. So you must mean the groomsman. I don’t recognise him.’

  ‘You said the odds of my running into him again were zero,’ Nicole muttered under her breath.

  ‘That’s Russell McClain of McClain Real Estate?’

  ‘The one and only.’ Looking sinfully sexy in a sleek black dinner suit.

  ‘He’s better-looking than I thought he’d be.’

  ‘He’s had a haircut and he’s wearing a tux. All men look good in tuxes.’

  ‘No, not all men. Though Leyton does, don’t you, darling?’ Kara said, hooking arms with the man by her side.

  Leyton was Kara’s latest in a long line of boyfriends. Kara was inclined to be on the fickle side and Nicole didn’t even try to keep up with the passing parade of pretty boys her friend had dated over the years.

  ‘Don’t I what?’ Leyton replied a little vacantly.

  Intelligence was not something Kara valued in a man, unlike Nicole, who could not abide stupidity.

  ‘Never mind,’ Kara said, patting Leyton’s hand.

  The bride’s arrival put paid to any further conversation over the amazing coincidence of Russell McClain being at this wedding. Though it wasn’t till the bride started walking down the aisle that Nicole managed to drag her attention back to the present.

  Megan still looked like Megan, Nicole thought as the bride moved past her pew. There’d been no radical makeover. Though she did look truly lovely in a strapless ivory dress which had a tightly boned and heavily beaded bodice and a huge gathered skirt. Under the long veil—which was held in place by a simple coronet of tiny roses—her dark brown hair was tightly pulled back from her beautifully made-up face, an exquisite pearl necklace adorning her slender neck.

  ‘Doesn’t she look fabulous?’ Kara gushed.

  ‘Absolutely gorgeous,’ Nicole concurred.

  Unfortunately, once the bride had passed by, Nicole’s mind returned to the third man at the head of the aisle. Why, oh, why, did fate have to be this cruel?

  Fortunately, he wasn’t looking down into the congregation, so he hadn’t seen her. Still, it was just a matter of time.

  Nicole shuddered at the thought of meeting him again.

  The ceremony was simple and very traditional. It was also quite short and soon the wedding party moved off into the vestry, presumably to sign the register. It wouldn’t be long before they’d be walking back down the aisle, right past where Nicole was sitting.

  ‘Just going outside for some fresh air,’ Nicole said. ‘It’s very stuffy in here.’ Before Kara could stop her she jumped up and slipped out the back, heading straight for the oak tree in the corner of the churchyard.

  It was the perfect hiding place, the tree’s large trunk keeping her out of sight whilst its huge canopy of leaves provided shade from what was an unseasonably hot day for early November. Although it was getting on for five in the afternoon, it was still extremely warm and surprisingly humid for this time of year. A storm was predicted for later in the evening but not soon enough to spoil the wedding. At the moment, there wasn’t even a c
loud in the clear blue sky.

  A sudden burst of noise and laughter indicated that the ceremony was over, a glance around the trunk confirming that the wedding party had emerged from the church, followed by waves of guests, most of them armed with digital cameras and photo-taking phones.

  Nicole stayed hidden whilst all the photographs were taken, but not so hidden that she couldn’t get a few surreptitious glimpses of the annoying man whom she didn’t want to fancy…but did.

  Finally the wedding party left, and Nicole called out to Kara, who was obviously looking for her.

  ‘So there you are!’ Kara said. ‘What are you doing, skulking off in this corner? As if I don’t know! Come on, we’re off to the reception. And before you say it, no, we can’t possibly take you home. It’s too far for one thing. Leyton would have to drive back across the harbour bridge, then back again. The reception is being held at a yacht club not far from here.’

  ‘I could always take a taxi,’ Nicole said. She was no longer stone-broke, having sold a good proportion of her wardrobe yesterday.

  ‘Mum would not be pleased if you did a flit. And the mother of the bride would be livid. You’re stuck, sweetie. Not that I’m sure why you’d want to run away. Your Mr McClain is quite yummy, if you like the gladiatorial type. And he’s not into the second bridesmaid, by the way, even though she practically glued herself to his side during the photographs.’

  ‘How do you know that?’ Nicole had been feeling quite jealous of the attractive redhead, whose burgundy satin bridesmaid dress had showed an impressive cleavage.

  ‘Because he hasn’t even looked at her boobs,’ Kara said. ‘And just about every other man has, I can tell you.’

  ‘He can look if he wants to,’ Nicole said offhandedly. ‘What do I care?’

  ‘Oh, come, now, Nickie. You don’t fool me for a minute. You’ve got the hots for the guy.’

  ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’

  ‘I would. You know, I don’t understand what your problem is. In the old days, you’d have just sashayed up to him and in no time flat he’d have been toast.’

  ‘That was then and this is now,’ Nicole said, thinking that what Kara said was true. She used to have great success in attracting the opposite sex, and great confidence.