Revenge by Seduction Read online

  ‘We could at least be friends…’ he suggested with heavy sarcasm. ‘Just think about it. We could have social evenings in the hotel bar. You could entertain the crowd doing your Trixie Trotter impersonation. I’m sure they’ve never seen anything like it up here. You were very good, you know. You played the part to perfection and you had everyone completely fooled.’

  With an effort she managed to hold onto her temper and asked him the question which had been rattling about in her mind since he’d turned up out of the blue. ‘If I had you fooled how did you find out it was me?’

  He shrugged. ‘That was easy enough. The doorman knew the taxi driver who picked you up. It was simply a case of waiting until the same driver turned up at the rank the following evening and asking him where he’d dropped you off. As soon as he mentioned Palmerston Court in Chelsea I knew it had been you. The driver even remembered that you had red hair when you took the wig off.’ He grinned amiably at her. ‘When I went round to the flats to challenge you the security man in the foyer told me that you’d gone home to Scotland on holiday. Fortunately I’ve got a good memory, and I remembered you telling me the name of this place.’

  Well, so much for that, she reflected dismally. There was no one to blame but herself. But then she hadn’t been overly concerned about covering her tracks, had she? At the time she couldn’t have cared less, but now she wished she had.

  She chewed worriedly at her lip, then looked at him defiantly. ‘What exactly do you mean by me having to make amends to you? If it’s an apology you’re looking for you can forget it. I’m not in the least bit sorry for what I did. In fact I’d do it again if I got the chance.’

  His mouth twitched, whether in anger or amusement she wasn’t sure, but there was an ominous edge to his voice when he growled, ‘An apology is no use to me. You could get down on your hands and knees and kiss my feet for all the good it’ll do you. Don’t think that you’re getting off that easy.’

  ‘I see…’ she said stiffly. ‘So you’re going to take me to court for slander, is that it?’ This was what Madge had warned her about. It could mean the court case appearing in the national press.

  He laughed again, then shook his head. ‘I doubt if that would be worth my while. You wouldn’t be much use to me if you were languishing in jail because you couldn’t pay the substantial damages the court would award me.’

  She was getting a bad feeling about this, and she looked at him suspiciously. ‘In that case would you mind telling me what you do intend doing?’

  The grey eyes looked her over with bold insolence, then he gave her another flash of hungry white teeth. ‘Trixie Trotter would have known exactly what I wanted.’

  She drew in a shocked breath, then glared at him. ‘You’re out of your mind. And disgusting with it.’

  He looked hurt. ‘Now, now, Catriona, be reasonable.’ He paused and his eyes hardened again as he subjected her to a caustic scrutiny. ‘I’m a man who has grown accustomed to the simple and perfectly natural pleasures of life. On a regular basis, I might add. But thanks to your little exhibition in the restaurant these pleasures have been denied me for the time being. I feel it’s only right and proper that until things improve it’s up to you to attend to my physical needs. I’m sure you’ll agree that’s not too much to ask. And after all it’s only justice, isn’t it?’

  You had to marvel at the cold-blooded nerve of the man, she thought. She looked him straight in the eye and said quietly, ‘Get lost.’

  He shook his head in mock sorrow, then reached for the inside pocket of his jacket and said tiredly, ‘That’s a very petty attitude to take, Catriona. Of course I thought you might be unreasonable and object to the idea so I took the precaution of bringing this along with me.’ With a smile of regret he handed her the folded page of newsprint.

  She opened it out and suddenly felt sick as she saw the photograph and the story.

  ‘It’s very good, isn’t it?’ he remarked conversationally. ‘Of course, once you know who Trixie really is it’s quite easy to see the remarkable resemblance. They don’t get the London papers up here, so I don’t imagine anyone in the village has seen this yet.’

  She glared at him, then turned aside, crumpled the page up and tossed it into the water.

  He looked down and watched in silence as the paper slowly disintegrated and sank out of sight, then he shrugged. ‘It’s a good job I brought extra copies with me. They’re in my suitcase back at the hotel.’

  Her shoulders slumped and for a moment she stood with her head bowed in despair, then she faced him coldly. ‘What do you intend doing with them?’

  He went on as if he’d never heard her. ‘We’ll call it The Secret Life of Catriona McNeil. She left Kindarroch to find fame and fortune in London but, like so many others, she became a street-walker. Who’d have thought she’d end up like that? Certainly not the Reverend McPhee! And certainly not her kind, hard-working and God-fearing parents. I dare say it would break their hearts. You could deny it, but I don’t think anyone would believe you.’ His grey eyes were watching her with bleak amusement. ‘Only this afternoon your mother was telling me about the wonderful job you’ve got…and the flat you’re staying in…and all the beautiful clothes you’ve suddenly acquired. If she saw that picture it would suddenly all make sense to her, wouldn’t it?’

  ‘I work in a boutique in Chelsea,’ she said dully.

  ‘Of course you do. I believe you, Catriona. But would your mother? Or anyone else for that matter? You more than anyone should appreciate the power of scandal to destroy a reputation. People always like to believe the worst of their neighbours. It makes them feel superior.’

  Every word he’d said was true, she acknowledged to herself in misery, and she could no longer bear to look into his eyes. Biting her lip, she looked over the harbour towards the houses and shops. She’d felt safe here with her parents and among her friends. This was her home. All her childhood memories were here. Now this man was going to destroy everything. The only thing she could do now was to sneak away like a thief in the night and find some place to hide. He’d know where to find her if she went back to London, so it would have to be somewhere else, where no one knew her and she could start afresh. Change her name, perhaps?

  ‘You’d really do that, wouldn’t you?’ she said, her voice tired and bitter with accusation.

  ‘Well, what would you expect from a piece of despicable low-life like me?’ He drawled through a crooked grin. ‘I’ve got an image to keep up, haven’t I?’

  ‘So, either I…I agree to sleep with you whenever you feel like it or you’ll spread these lies about me.’

  ‘That’s it in a nutshell,’ he agreed with an ironic twist to his lips. ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  ‘That’s called blackmail,’ she said, her blue eyes looking him up and down with contempt. ‘You’re even viler than I thought.’

  He shrugged. ‘You can always go to the police if you think it would do any good. But somehow I don’t think you will.’ He looked up at the gulls circling overhead, then said quietly, ‘As for sleeping with me…we’ll talk about that later. All I want from you at present is a friendly smile now and again and your promise to show me around the district. Now that I’ve seen this place I really do think that it needs someone like me to bring it back to life. You have a driving licence, I hope?’

  She nodded, eyeing him warily.

  ‘Good.’ He stood erect, then tossed his car keys at her. ‘My car is still parked outside your house. Kindly bring it down to the hotel after breakfast tomorrow morning.’ He turned and strode back along the breakwater in the direction of the hotel, leaving her staring after him in frustrated, toe-curling rage.

  Two minutes later he strode into the bar, gave a friendly nod to the handful of locals, then settled himself on a bar stool and ordered a large whisky. Life was full of little surprises, Ryan thought with wry humour. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to come here. A decision, he realised now, made in an
ger. Common sense told him that the most sensible thing to do now was to simply forget the whole thing, spend the night here, then return to London tomorrow. But for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like being sensible.

  This Catriona McNeil was entirely different from the one he’d met in London. This was a feisty fire-cracker of a woman who needed to be taught a lesson. Besides that there was something about those big blue eyes which he found intriguing and very hard to resist.

  CHAPTER SIX

  CATRIONA lay awake most of that night, tossing, turning and only sleeping fitfully, and she had to drag herself out of bed in the morning. Had she had one decent night’s sleep since she’d met that man? She couldn’t recall any. Her head and limbs felt heavy, but a hot and then a cold shower managed to put some life back into her. She looked out of the window at the weather as she brushed her teeth. It looked as if it was going to be another scorcher of a day so she put on a light cotton skirt and a gaily striped sleeveless blouse, brushed her hair vigorously then wandered into the kitchen and greeted her mother.

  ‘I was going to make breakfast, Mum. I didn’t realise anyone was up yet. Now why don’t you sit down and let me do that?’

  Her mother kept stirring the porridge and said reprovingly, ‘It’s almost seven o’clock. Living in London has made you soft. When you lived here you were up at six on the dot every morning, like everyone else.’ She nodded towards the back door. ‘Father’s been out there for the last hour mending his lobster pots.’

  Catriona poured herself a cup of tea, then perched herself on a seat at the table. If she told her mother that some people in London had to get up at five-thirty just so that they could get to their work on time she’d never have believed her. She wouldn’t have believed it herself until she’d gone there and seen the queues for the buses and underground.

  ‘I hope you’re in a better mood this morning than you were last night,’ her mother said huffily. ‘We could hardly get two words out of you. And the face on you was enough to turn the milk sour.’

  ‘I…I’m sorry, Mum,’ she muttered in apology. ‘I had a headache.’

  ‘Humph!’ Her mother wasn’t impressed. ‘Everyone gets headaches but it’s no excuse for bad manners. Your father and I were only trying to make conversation. It’s only natural that we’re interested in your new friends and the people you’ve met. We are your parents, after all.’

  Catriona sighed. ‘I said I was sorry. Now can we just leave it at that, please? The headache isn’t quite gone yet.’

  ‘Anyone with half an eye can see that Mr Hind is quite taken with you,’ her mother went on, paying no attention to her plea. ‘And you could do a lot worse for yourself…’

  She tried to shut out the sound as her mother continued her eulogy of Ryan Hind, but it was like trying to ignore a nagging toothache. Mind you, she couldn’t really blame her mother. Ryan Hind had that effect on people. Especially women—whatever their age. He had the dark good looks of some fictional romantic hero. Utterly charming…polite…considerate… He seemed to have everything a woman could wish for in a man. He’d even had her fooled, never mind her mother. It was only when it was too late that you discovered the reality under the polished veneer.

  If only she had the courage to tell her mother right now how mistaken she was. But that would mean exposing herself and she balked at doing that. She also had to think of the effect it would have on her parents if she refused to co-operate with Ryan and he carried out his threat. They’d be devastated. And even if she told them the truth they’d still be devastated. She was trapped in a no-win situation. Damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

  If only Madge were here. Madge had been around and she’d know how to deal with Ryan Hind and his outrageous attempt at blackmail. Or even if she didn’t she was bound to know someone who did. But what on earth would her mother make of Madge, with her continual smoking and drinking and sometimes fruity language? She knew what the Reverend McPhee would say. He’d take one look at Madge and shake his head dolefully and mutter, ‘Now there’s a face filled with broken commandments if ever I saw one.’

  Thankfully her mother had never pried too closely into that particular subject. As far as she knew, Madge was simply a kind-hearted old dear who owned a shop and who had offered her the spare room in her flat.

  She could always phone Madge, of course, tell her the situation and ask her advice. She turned that option over in her mind for a moment, then rejected it. Exploiting a friendship wasn’t her style. Madge had already done more for her than anyone had a right to expect. Either she dealt with this problem herself or she had no right to call herself a mature and independent adult able to take care of herself.

  ‘Catriona!’

  She gave a start. ‘Sorry, Mum. I…I was daydreaming.’

  ‘Aye. I can see that. I asked you to go and tell your father that his breakfast is ready. Make sure he takes his boots off before he comes in the kitchen.’

  After breakfast Catriona took over the task of washing the dishes and tidying up. She took her time over it, dragging it out as long as possible. Then she gave her mother a hand with the housework, but by ten everything was finished and she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer.

  Clutching the keys to Ryan’s car, she went outside. The sun had made the interior of the car unbearably hot and she wound down the window and left the car door open for a few minutes. When it had cooled down sufficiently, she eased herself into the driver’s seat. She had to adjust it so that her feet could reach the pedals, then she closed the door and turned on the ignition. The engine sprang to life with a throaty purr and she sat for a moment studying the layout of the dashboard. She hadn’t a clue what half the dials were for. What did ‘tach’ mean? You’d need a pilot’s licence to take this on the road, she thought. It was a real man’s car. It smelt of rich, new leather and pine air freshener. Holding her breath, she depressed the clutch, put her hand on the short, stubby gear lever and selected first gear, then let off the handbrake.

  To her astonishment it was much easier to drive than anything she’d ever been in before, and she headed towards the harbour toying with the idea of jumping out at the last minute and letting it coast downhill on its own, straight into twenty feet of water. That would show him exactly how she felt about him and his threats.

  She parked outside the hotel, then walked into the bar. ‘Good morning, Donnie. Could you let Mr Hind know that I’m here to collect him?’

  Donnie the barman, who was restocking the shelves in preparation for lunchtime opening, grinned at her. ‘Go up and tell him yourself. He’s in the big room at the front.’

  Seeing that there was nothing else for it, she climbed the stairs and knocked at the room door.

  ‘Come in,’ the deeply, resonant voice commanded.

  Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, she opened the door and saw him standing in front of the wardrobe mirror putting on a tie. He turned, and, like a man in a car showroom appraising a new model he was about to acquire, looked her over, then smiled in satisfaction and greeted her affably. ‘Good morning, Catriona. You look very pretty in that blouse. Well, don’t just stand there. Come in and shut the door behind you.’

  She looked at him icily. ‘Not for a million pounds. I remember only too well what happened the last time I was in a hotel room with you. I’ll wait downstairs by the car until you’re ready.’ She turned haughtily and went back downstairs.

  If he’d felt rebuffed by her action he showed no sign of it when he joined her outside five minutes later. He ran his eyes over her again, only increasing her feeling of discomfort, then he patted the car roof. ‘Did you feel comfortable driving it?’

  She was leaning against the door with her arms folded and she gave a shrug of studied indifference. ‘I managed. It’s still in one piece, isn’t it?’

  ‘So I see. Right. In that case you can act as my chauffeur.’

  ‘I’m not acting as your anything,’ she informed him in a bri
ttle voice. ‘You can do your own driving.’

  The amiable smile remained on his lips but there was a sudden chilling glint in his eyes and he said softly, ‘There seems to be a lamentable lack of understanding here, Catriona. I thought I’d made your position perfectly clear to you yesterday. Since you seem to have forgotten, I’ll take this opportunity to remind you…’ For the benefit of any onlookers there might be he gave her a friendly pat on the shoulder and continued, ‘While I’m here your only purpose in life is to please me…to satisfy my every whim…and to look happy while you’re doing it. If you can’t manage that then you’ll have to be prepared to face the consequences. Now…have you got that clear in that pretty little head of yours?’

  For a moment she glared back at him rebelliously, then she swallowed the bitter bile in her throat and muttered, ‘All right…damn you.’

  He shook his head sadly. ‘That’s not good enough, Catriona. The correct response was, “Certainly, Ryan. Anything you say, Ryan.”’

  Her blue eyes simmered with rage and she hissed, ‘Don’t push your luck. I might just decide it isn’t worth it.’

  He studied her a moment longer, weighing her up, challenging her determination, then he nodded. ‘You’ve got fire. Be careful you don’t burn yourself.’ He opened the front door of the car and gestured at her to get into the driver’s seat. ‘I want you to drive because you know the roads around here better than I do.’

  She could see Donnie watching them from the bar window and she knew the danger of prolonging the argument. If Donnie had any reason to think there was anything amiss it would be common knowledge around the village long before closing time. Then there would be awkward questions. Especially from her mother.

  When Ryan had settled his long frame in the front seat he unfolded an Ordnance Survey map of the area, and she asked sulkily, ‘Just where exactly is it you want to go? There’s nothing but moor, mountains and lochs around here. I hardly think you’ve got the kind of soul to appreciate good scenery.’