Revenge by Seduction Page 5

  She conceded the point with a sigh. ‘Yes…I dare say you’re right.’ She took a sip of her mineral water and tried to recall anything he’d said to her that might reveal some weak spot in his armour, but it was a waste of time. People like Ryan Hind would make sure they had no weak spots. Not even a conscience to trouble them. They were the icy cold predators in the sea of life.

  She wondered what she’d do if he were to walk through that door right now with his latest girlfriend clinging to his arm. She closed her eyes, slipped the lead from her imagination and let it roam free like a slow motion film, the scenario unfolded in her mind…

  He would pause in the doorway and the murmur of conversation would die away, his mere appearance enough to charge the atmosphere. Women would breath a little more rapidly at the powerful, charismatic image he projected and their partners would regard him with hostility. His grey eyes would dispassionately survey the room until they alighted on her and then…incredibly…he would smile! Her heart would begin thudding in her ears as he approached her table. She knew it! It had all been a terrible mistake! He’d simply forgotten where she lived. He’d been frantically searching for weeks and now he’d found her! He’d be only a couple of yards from her and then she would freeze as she saw the smile for what it really was—a cold and distant acknowledgement that he’d once met her briefly. Stricken, she’d watch him pass by without a word. He and his companion would settle themselves at the next table and she would watch as he leaned over and whispered in the girl’s ear. The girl would glance across at her, then smirk, whispering something back to him, and they’d both begin laughing. Enraged, she’d get to her feet, march over, snatch the carafe of water from the table and empty it over his head…

  ‘Excuse me…’ a voice cut in. ‘Have you fallen asleep?’

  She jerked her eyes open and smiled awkwardly at Madge. ‘Sorry…I was daydreaming.’

  ‘Hmm… We were discussing Ryan Hind, remember?’

  ‘How could I forget? The more I think about him the angrier I get. If there was just some way I could get my hands around his neck.’ She almost ground her teeth and narrowed her eyes. ‘Sometimes I wish I was a man.’

  ‘Don’t we all, my dear? But, since we’re women, it has to be a case of superior intelligence versus superior brawn. So it is written in the book of life. So let’s apply ourselves to the problem without indulging in any flights of fancy.’

  Catriona gave a nod of resignation. The talk of superior intelligence depressed her. She was beginning to think that she’d left her brain back in Kindarroch. Then a sudden thought made her catch her breath, and she glanced to either side before whispering excitedly, ‘We know one thing for certain. We know that he dines at Cardini’s every night. What if I was to go in there one evening…go straight to his table and…and empty a jug of water over his head?’

  Madge didn’t look too impressed. ‘Too tame,’ she remarked. Then she looked thoughtful. ‘It does have possibilities, however. You really want to humiliate the wretch, don’t you?’

  ‘Damned right I do. And in front of as many people as possible.’ Her eyes brightened at the prospect. ‘What better place than in the middle of a crowded restaurant? Not just any restaurant, mind you. Cardini’s, where all the top people go.’

  A mischievous smile played over Madge’s lips. ‘Cardini’s is fine, but I think you can play to an even bigger audience, my dear. The London papers would love to have a picture of Ryan Hind receiving his just deserts at the hands of a scorned woman. It would be worth half a million extra copies at least.’

  Catriona eyes widened. ‘But…but how?’

  ‘Oh, I could easily arrange that,’ Madge said airily. ‘A dear old friend of mine who runs a news agency owes me a few favours. He’d have one of his photographers there to record the scene for posterity.’ She chuckled at the thought, then added, ‘It would have to be something a bit more original than emptying water over him, though. Something that would have the whole town talking.’

  Was there anyone in London Madge didn’t know? she wondered. ‘Well, I can’t think of anything else,’ she admitted.

  Madge remained thoughtful, then she smiled. ‘I knew a woman who once had occasion to humiliate a man in public. He was a respected Member of Parliament but by the time she was finished with him he had to resign his seat.’ She chuckled and shook her head. ‘I doubt if you could bring yourself to go to such lengths, though.’

  ‘Why?’ Catriona demanded indignantly. ‘The McNeils are slow to anger, but once our minds are made up we’re never squeamish about the means of redressing an insult.’

  ‘Hmmm…’ Madge said, eyeing her thoughtfully. ‘You might have to leave London for a couple of weeks afterwards. Just until the dust has settled. Then I’ll let you know when it’s safe to return.’

  She looked at the older woman cautiously. ‘It’s nothing illegal, is it? I won’t have any part in…’

  ‘Not really illegal…but it would require a considerable amount of acting skill.’

  She relaxed and said eagerly, ‘In the school play I was Ophelia in Hamlet.’

  Madge’s mouth twitched in amusement. ‘The part you’ll have to play is that of a woman with more fire in her belly than the fair Ophelia ever had.’

  She frowned, then shrugged. ‘I can still do it.’

  Madge studied her a moment longer, then said with finality, ‘We’ll see. Now we’ll leave it for the moment, my dear. We’ll discuss it further in a couple of days, when I get back from France.’ She raised her glass and smiled. ‘Here’s to the sinking of the Golden Hind.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CATRIONA shivered in the chilly evening air. It was draughty and uncomfortable standing in this shop doorway, and although this outfit she was wearing might be all the rage on the catwalks of Paris it had obviously been designed with titillation rather than protection from the elements in mind.

  When Madge had returned from France and got round to explaining the scheme she had in mind Catriona had listened with growing apprehension, and when she’d seen the outfit she was expected to wear she’d almost rebelled on the spot. The bright red stiletto-heeled shoes she could put up with, and the matching leather shoulder bag looked OK. But the white spiral-laced trousers and crop top which would leave her with a wide expanse of bare midriff gave her the shudders. And to top it all there was the most outrageous pink-tinted platinum blonde wig she’d ever seen.

  She’d looked askance at Madge and protested, ‘This is ridiculous! If I don’t catch my death of cold I’ll get arrested for indecency!’

  ‘No, you won’t. The West End is full of girls dressed far more provocatively. Anyway, the more indecent you look the better. When you waltz into Cardini’s we want the diners to be in no doubt as to what you do for a living. Now stop complaining and try them on.’

  She had done so, reluctantly, and the sight that had greeted her in the mirror had made her wince. ‘My God! I’ve gone to bed wearing more than this! You can see through the damn thing! I might as well be naked!’

  ‘The most anyone can see is your underwear, and you wouldn’t think twice about wearing a skimpy bikini on a beach, would you?’ Madge had pointed out calmly.

  ‘That isn’t the same, and you know it.’

  Madge had ignored the remark, run a critical eye over her then given a satisfied nod. ‘It’s perfect. Of course, on the night you go there you’ll be smothered in make-up. Lots of mascara and bright red lip-gloss. With that and the wig your own mother wouldn’t recognise you.’

  Thank God for that, she’d thought fervently! Then the obvious conclusion had dawned on her and she’d looked at Madge in dismay. ‘That means that Ryan Hind might not recognise me either!’

  ‘You’d better hope he doesn’t.’

  ‘But why?’ she’d asked with a disappointed frown. ‘I want him to know it’s me. Hiding behind another identity seems…seems cowardly.’

  ‘Yes… Well, discretion is the better part of valour, as they say. B
elieve me, my dear, it’ll be safer this way. Ryan Hind is going to be one very angry man.’ She’d put her forefinger to her chin, tilted her head to one side and smiled. ‘We’ll call you Trixie Trotter. How does that sound?’

  ‘Abominable.’

  ‘Good. Now…it’ll take a few days to get everything organised, so until then you can keep practising your Cockney street-girl accent.’

  Well, everything was now in place. Somehow Madge had found out that Ryan would be dining that night with a companion, and the photographer was already inside, occupying a nearby strategic table.

  She’d chosen this doorway because it was directly opposite the imposing entrance to Cardini’s and provided a good view of the taxis disembarking their passengers. Her stomach fluttered with nerves. How she’d ever talked herself into this was a mystery. Had it been a desire to impress Madge with her determination or just a wish to prove to herself that she had all the courage and resource of a McNeil?

  The worst part of it was having to ignore the stares of the passers-by. Although she’d only been here about ten minutes she’d already been approached by two prospective ‘clients’. With the first one it had taken her a moment or two to realise what he was suggesting, and she’d had to restrain a natural impulse to belt him over the head with her shoulderbag. ‘I’m sorry,’ she’d said icily. ‘I’m waiting for my husband.’

  She’d dealt with the second one in similar fashion, watched him scurry away to try his luck elsewhere, then shuddered. She’d never have believed that such respectable-looking men could be so disgusting.

  Another taxi drawing up at the entrance opposite caught her attention and she saw the doorman step smartly towards it. The rear door opened and a man stepped out. She narrowed her eyes in triumph. It was him!

  Her heart began racing and she felt tense with a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation. Even from this distance he presented an unmistakable figure. Immaculately dressed in white dinner jacket and dark trousers, tall, with power and animal grace in every movement of his lithe body. Her mouth was dry now. If only old Morag’s prediction had been true. If only he’d loved her with his heart and not just his body. But he hadn’t. He had no heart. He was a liar. He was a self-centred, deceitful, cruel and wanton hollow excuse for a man.

  Like the gentleman he was pretending to be, he was gallantly offering his arm to his companion as she got out. She was tall and slim with long dark hair. Ruthlessly Catriona suppressed a twinge of jealousy. She should be feeling sorry for her. Perhaps she too had her dreams.

  She tightened her lips resolutely. Ten minutes would be long enough. By then they’d be settled at their table, gazing into each other’s eyes over the candlelit crystal and silver. Then she’d make her appearance and Mr Ryan Hind could wave goodbye to his reputation for good.

  ‘Good evening, miss.’

  She turned her attention wearily to the man who’d stopped and sidled up to her. Not another one, surely!

  ‘Are you talking to me?’

  He was too busy leering and ogling her figure to be put off by the cold abruptness in her voice, and he leaned closer and murmured, ‘There’s a warm little wine bar round the corner. Would you care to join me for a couple of drinks?’

  It was pathetic, she thought. He probably had a wife, a couple of kids, and a half-paid mortgage. Well, at least it proved that she looked the part. But could she really act the part? Now was as good a time as any to find out.

  With a flutter of her false eyelashes and a provocative smile she spoke to him in a low, husky voice. ‘I have expensive tastes, dearie. Can you afford champagne?’

  ‘The best.’ He smirked and patted the pocket where presumably he kept his wallet. ‘You’ll find me very generous. Anything you want.’

  She placed a hand on her hip, gave him a smouldering smile and murmured, ‘Well, that’s all right, then. I adore men who like spending money.’ This was too easy, she thought. Best of all, she didn’t feel the least bit embarrassed. This clown was ready to believe anything. ‘My name’s Trixie,’ she breathed. ‘What’s yours?’

  ‘Freddie. Just call me Freddie.’ He glanced around nervously. ‘Shall we…er…go now?’

  Now he was worried in case anyone recognised him. Good, she thought. Make the randy goat suffer. ‘Well…that depends on what you have in mind besides buying me a drink, Freddie,’ she prompted in her best low and sultry voice.

  He tried a lewd, suggestive wink. ‘I know a small hotel near here. They’re very understanding about these things. We can take a couple of bottles with us and…enjoy ourselves in private.’

  She gave him a provocative smile and murmured, ‘What do you mean by…“enjoying” ourselves, Freddie?’

  He blinked in surprise and looked around nervously once more. She was only playing this by ear and it was clear that her questions were making him suspicious. But she had to persist because she already knew how she was going to deal with this pest and that meant that she had to trick him into saying what he really wanted.

  Ensnaring him with another smouldering look, she teased him. ‘You’re a very naughty man, Freddie. You really want to take me to bed, don’t you? Are you sure you’ll make it worth my while?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ he insisted, sounding breathless with anticipation. ‘I told you I was very generous, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, Freddie, you did indeed.’ Suddenly she switched off her smile and her voice became brisk with authority. ‘Perhaps the judge will take that into consideration, but I doubt it.’ She patted her shoulder bag. ‘If you want to see my warrant card I’ll be glad to oblige. I am Woman Police Constable Jordan of the Metropolitan Police vice squad. You will be charged with importuning for an immoral purpose.’

  His face collapsed and turned a sickly grey. ‘I…I did n-n-nothing. I…I was only…’

  ‘Save your breath,’ she snapped coldly. ‘You picked the wrong night, Freddie. The squad has this whole area under surveillance by closed circuit television cameras.’ The adrenaline was really pumping now and she was enjoying this. Perhaps she was a better actress than she’d thought. Freddie seemed convinced enough that she was the genuine article. It was just a pity that these new shoes were pinching her toes.

  ‘Now then, Freddie…’ she went on briskly. ‘You’re the fourth one we’ve caught in the last half-hour. The van will be along shortly to pick you up with the others. Until it arrives you will stand in this doorway, facing inwards. I have to report to our temporary headquarters across the road. I must warn you that if you attempt to leave this doorway you will be instantly arrested and further charged with attempting to escape. Just remember that you are being constantly monitored by our cameras.’

  Freddie looked positively ill with worry. ‘W-will this appear in the newspapers?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s on the television news tomorrow,’ she replied disdainfully. ‘I hope it teaches you to behave yourself from now on.’

  She waited until he was obediently facing the door, then with a final warning about attempting to escape she left him and crossed the busy road towards the restaurant.

  Without feeling conceited, she was rather proud of her performance. She’d certainly put the fear of God into that creep, and with any luck he’d still be there shivering in his shoes until two in the morning, waiting to be arrested.

  Some day, no doubt, she’d look back on this evening’s work and wonder at her sheer audacity. The sweet innocence of youth was well and truly lost now. Life in London had seen to that. On the bright side, however, her success with Freddie had given her more confidence for the task ahead.

  The first hurdle to negotiate was the doorman, and she could tell from the look of alarm and outrage on his face as she headed for the entrance that he had no intention of allowing a trollop like her to defile the sanctified interior of Cardini’s restaurant.

  He moved his bulk to bar her way and said sternly, ‘I’m sorry, miss. Unaccompanied…’ He looked her up and down, as if searchin
g for a suitable description, then sneered, ‘Females are not allowed in. If you want to eat I suggest that you look for a hamburger stall.’

  Madge had anticipated this and worked out a solution.

  Heaving a sigh and giving a self-conscious smile, Catriona nodded. ‘I was afraid of this. I…I do look too much the part in these clothes, don’t I? But the fact is that it’s only a costume. You see, I’m a student and I make ends meet by working part-time for a kissogram agency. Mr Ryan Hind is dining here tonight, I believe. It’s his birthday and his colleagues hired me to deliver birthday wishes along with a rather expensive present to show the regard in which they hold him.’

  The doorman’s expression was turning from antagonism to uncertainty, and she undermined him further by sighing again. ‘Your attitude is quite understandable, of course. Rules are rules, I suppose. I’ll just have to go back and tell them that I was quite rightly denied admittance. They’ll be terribly disappointed…as will Mr Hind when he finds out. But there we are. It can’t be helped. You’re only doing your job, aren’t you?’

  She turned to go but the doorman cleared his throat and said uncomfortably, ‘I beg your pardon, miss. I was under a misapprehension. Mr Hind is, of course, a very valued customer. I’m sure I can make an exception in your case.’ He tipped his hat and opened the door for her.

  She’d expected to have to go through the whole charade again for the benefit of the head waiter when she entered the main restaurant, but it proved unnecessary. He was over on the far side of the room with his back towards her as he discussed the menu with two diners. She knew exactly where to look for her quarry and there he was, just as she’d expected, at his private table talking animatedly with his companion as he poured two glasses of wine. She was about to launch herself across the room at him when she paused and recalled Madge’s advice.

  ‘There’s no use just walking through the room,’ she’d said. ‘You have to make an entrance. You want to make yourself the focus of everyone’s attention, my dear. Every eye in the place must be riveted on you when you confront him.’