The Flaw In His Red-Hot Revenge by Abby Green

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THEFOLLOWINGMORNINGAshling made an unintelligible grunting sound at the persistent calling of her name. She felt so deliciously lethargic and relaxed, and she squealed when the sheet was ripped off her body, leaving her naked and exposed. The fact that the culprit was very much responsible for her exposed and naked state wasn’t much comfort.

Zach was standing at the end of the bed in jeans and a long-sleeved polo shirt, hair damp from a shower. ‘Come on.’

Ashling squinted. ‘It’s not even light outside.’ A thought struck her. Her heart sank. ‘We’re leaving for London already?’

Zach must have early meetings lined up.

But he said, ‘Not quite yet. We’re doing something first.’

He pointed to the end of the bed. ‘I’ve laid out some clothes. Get dressed and meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.’

Ashling came up on one elbow. ‘Where are we going?’

‘You’ll see. Hurry up.’

Ashling hauled herself out of bed and had a quick shower, relishing the smell of Zach’s spicy gel. Wrapped in a towel, she looked at the clothes he’d laid out. They were from the dressing room. Jeans and a stripy Breton top...sneakers.

Ashling got dressed and went downstairs. Zach greeted her with a cup of coffee and a croissant. He said, ‘I’ll be outside when you’re ready.’

Intrigued, Ashling gulped down some coffee and a couple of bites of croissant, then went outside—and nearly tripped over her own feet. Zach was shrugging on a leather jacket and standing beside a beast of a motorbike. Dawn was just starting to appear in the sky.

He handed her a leather jacket. ‘It’s probably a bit big, but it’ll do.’

Ashling took it. She was wide awake now, and speechless. She’d imagined Zach on a motorbike, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality when he zipped up the jacket and swung a leg over to straddle the machine.

He handed her a helmet and showed her where to step to help her hitch a leg over so she could sit behind him. She put a hand on his shoulder. When she was behind him her body naturally slid down right behind his. Her pelvis tucked against his backside. She automatically put her hands around his waist.

He put a hand on her thigh and turned to look at her, straightened her helmet. ‘Okay?’

She nodded. She was exhilarated, and they hadn’t even started moving yet. He started the bike and the engine roared to life underneath her. Between her legs where she was still tender.

They drove out of the estate and onto the empty main road. As Zach drove the sky lightened more and more. Ashling felt as if they were the only people in the world.

After about fifteen minutes Zach drove the bike through a gate where there was a huge hangar and a small plane in a huge field. He stopped the bike. They got off. He took off her helmet. She felt a little wobbly after the adrenalin of the bike-ride. He took her hand and led her over to where a man was waiting by the plane. Zach introduced him as the tow pilot.

Ashling was beginning to wonder if this was a dream. ‘Tow pilot?’

Zach took her around to the other side of the plane, where she saw the most delicate flimsy-looking glider.

She looked from it to Zach. ‘No way...’

He said, ‘Do you trust me?’

Ashling wished she didn’t. She wished she still had some tiny bit of distrust left. But he’d eroded it. The problem was that she didn’t believe for a second that he trusted her. He wanted her. But that was it. And today they’d go back to London and this would be over.

Short and hot and over.

She nodded. ‘Yes—yes, I do.’ He didn’t have to know that she meant it in a deeper sense. That she trusted him with her life. With her heart.

He helped her into the glider. which looked like a toy. She sat in the back seat and he got into the front. She watched, struck dumb, as the tow pilot got into the small plane and another man did something with the rope attached to their glider.

Then the other plane was moving, tugging their glider plane along behind it, and then suddenly they were off the ground, soaring into the sky behind the plane. And then the rope must have been detached, because the plane was banking left and they were going straight on, gliding higher and higher.

The thing that struck Ashling was the silence. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart. She was too afraid to move for a moment, and then she took in her surroundings, the countryside around them, as dawn broke over the horizon bathing everything pink and golden.

‘Okay?’ Zach half turned his head.

Euphoria gripped Ashling as the shock of what they were doing wore off. She nodded, emotion gripping her throat. ‘Yes—yes! It’s amazing.’

It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. Transcendental.

Ashling had no idea how long they stayed in the air...only that she would have happily stayed up there for ever.

When they got back to the field and landed, Ashling was mortified to find tears on her cheeks. She quickly wiped at them as Zach undid his seatbelt and got out.

He turned around and reached for her. He saw her face and frowned. ‘Hey, are you okay?’

Ashling nodded and stood beside him on rubbery legs. Lingering emotion made her voice husky. ‘I’ve never experienced anything like that...it was beautiful. Thank you.’

She reached up and put her mouth to his jaw. Disconcertingly, she was reminded of that fateful night, of kissing him in the same spot. Zach pulled back. A shiver of foreboding went down her spine. She told herself she was being ridiculous. Paranoid.

After a quick chat with the pilots who ran the company, Zach led her back over to the motorbike. She couldn’t explain it, but something had shifted between them since they’d landed. Zach didn’t meet her eye as he put on her helmet, made sure she was secure. His touch was brisk. Impersonal.

She clung to him on the way back to the house, but she couldn’t escape the feeling that Zach was regretting that impetuous move.

It had been impossibly romantic. And this wasn’t about romance.

In the end, no amount of premonition could have warned Ashling just how brutally efficient Zach could be when dispensing with a lover.

The beautiful glider experience had obviously been a goodbye gift. As soon as they’d got back to the house Zach had turned distant in a way that he hadn’t been since that night four years ago. Because since she’d met him again he’d been far too vengeful to be distant and then...then it had turned into something else.

Diana had been back at the house when they’d returned from their glider experience. Had it been Ashling’s imagination or had she taken one look at Zach and Ashling and then looked at Ashling with sympathy? As if she had intuited exactly what was happening.

Zach had said, ‘We’ll be leaving within the hour. You should pack and get ready.’

And now they were in the back of his chauffeur driven car returning to London. No helicopter this time. Zach was in a three-piece suit. Ashling was in the laundered clothes she’d worn on her arrival.

He was on his phone now, speaking in French. It made her think of how far he’d come. From nothing. And how much it must mean to him to be considered equal by his peers and, more importantly, his father who’d rejected him.

To her surprise she felt her phone vibrate in her bag. She took it out. It was just a random text from her phone provider about billing. She read the last text exchange she’d had with Cassie over the weekend, when she’d last checked her phone.

Cassie had been wondering how she was, and Ashling—feeling inordinately guilty—had mentioned something vague about doing errands for Zach while Gwen was still away. Cassie had rung her then, and Ashling had tried to ascertain what was going on with Luke, the guy she was sleeping with, but her friend had been unusually elusive.

But then, Ashling hadn’t been able to speak either, and she’d been equally elusive about what was really going on with her and Zach. She longed to talk to her friend now, though. But she’d have to wait.

Cassie would be back soon. Order would be restored.

For Zach, it would be as if nothing had happened—except for the fact that he’d settled an old score.

For Ashling, though... She couldn’t even go there.

‘I can get the tube.’

‘Gerard will drop you home. No argument.’

The driver caught Ashling’s eye in the mirror. ‘No problem, miss.’

Weakly, Ashling smiled, ‘Thanks, Gerard.’

They were almost at Zach’s Mayfair townhouse. The city looked busy and intimidating to Ashling after the last few days in a bucolic paradise. She felt as if a layer of skin had been removed.

Zach pushed a button and the privacy partition went up between them and Gerard. He turned to her. She noticed that he must have shaved since they’d taken the glider flight that morning. It struck her then, in a moment of insight, that Zach must love the rush of adrenalin because he’d had to be so careful for his whole life not to make waves. To succeed and excel.

The fact that she’d recognised that only made this moment even harder.

She spoke first, to stall whatever it was he was going to say. ‘Thank you... This morning was amazing. The whole weekend...’

‘Thank you for being there. The deal with Georgios Stephanides... I don’t know if it would have happened without you.’

‘I’m sure that’s not true, but it was the least I could do, considering the destruction I caused in the past.’

He shook his head. ‘That’s in the past. Gone.’

The car pulled to a stop outside Zach’s house. He said, ‘Look, Ashling, this was—’

She put up a hand, her chest tight. ‘You really don’t have to say anything, Zach. We both know what this is. Was. It’s cool.’

If he mentioned short and hot she might hit him.

His jaw was tight. Eventually he said, ‘After this morning I was afraid that—’

Ashling shook her head so forcibly she was afraid it might fall off. ‘No. It was lovely—and thank you again. Now I should really get going. I have tons to catch up on.’

‘Of course. Goodbye, Ashling.’

‘Bye, Zach.’

He got out of the car, took a bag out of the boot, and Ashling watched him go up the steps to the house. The door opened before he reached it and she caught a glimpse of the taciturn Peters.

Vengeance meted out. Order restored. Interlude over.

Ashling was glad the driver left the privacy partition up for the duration of the journey back to her and Cassie’s apartment. Because she cried like a baby the whole way.

Zach lasted until lunchtime.

He’d thought he was doing the right thing. Seeing Ashling’s tears that morning had been the biggest wake-up call of his life. They’d reminded him of the emotion he’d seen in her eyes the previous evening, when he’d all but spilled every gut he had at her feet. And her too. When she’d told him about her father he’d felt violent.

And had that made him run? Or send her packing? No, they’d eaten, drunk wine, made love. And then he’d woken her up this morning and taken her out on a glider—one of the most transcendental experiences of his life, shared with no one else before.

What the hell are you doing?

The words had resounded in his head like a klaxon when he’d seen her tears. In that split second he’d realised how far off-track the weekend had veered. At what point had short and hot turned into deep and meaningful?

An image formed in Zach’s head. Heat pulsed into his blood.

It had happened right about when he’d found Ashling floating in his lake like a sexy water nymph.

He still wanted her.

It had taken all his restraint not to kiss her in the car. But she’d been looking at him with those huge eyes. Full of an emotion that convinced him he was doing the right thing.

But maybe he’d underestimated her. After all, she’d had a couple of relationships. She was savvy. Smart. Maybe he was doing them both a disservice by ending things so abruptly...

He assured himself that he was moving on to the next chapter of his life, and that he’d never been clearer about where he wanted to go—thanks in a large part to the person who had almost helped derail it four years ago.

But maybe the next chapter didn’t have to start today.

Ashling had put on a pair of old cut-off shorts and a crocheted wrap-over top. She was attempting to take her mind off things by doing a bit of gardening in the small patch she and Cassie had outside their apartment at the back. But it wasn’t doing much to ease the ache in her chest.

When the door buzzer rang she welcomed the distraction, dusting off her hands. Expecting to see her neighbour, or a delivery person, Ashling opened the door and blinked stupidly up at Zachary Temple.

He was halfway through saying something but Ashling was already in his arms, legs around his waist, mouth clamped to his. He walked them back into her apartment and kicked the door shut behind him.

Much later, in Ashling’s bed, with the sounds of children playing on the street outside and sirens in the distance, they had a conversation.

Zach. ‘This doesn’t mean...’

Ashling. ‘I know.’

‘What we said at the start—’

‘What you said.’

‘That this would be—’

‘Don’t say it now. It doesn’t need to be said again. I know what this is.’

‘You do?’

‘Yes. And that’s okay.’ Liar.

‘Okay. Good.’

‘Good.’

‘We’re clear...?’

Ashling turned to Zach in the bed and twined her bare legs with his, relishing the feel of his body responding to hers. ‘Clear as crystal.’

She kissed him then, to stop him saying anything else. She didn’t need to be reminded of her weakness. Or that this was just a stay of execution.

Thirty-six hours later Ashling was on the other side of London in Zach’s townhouse. She adjusted the pearl-encrusted collar that tied at the back of her neck. The dress was sleeveless, held up by the collar, with a line of pearls running from the collar on either side of the edge of the bodice of the dress, under her arms and around to the back. The rest of the dress was black, with a nipped-in waist, and it fell to the floor in a single elegant fall of material.

It was classic and...conservative. Her overriding instinct was to add a bit of colour. But she told herself it wasn’t appropriate.

She’d come to Zach’s house yesterday, after he’d spent the day and the night at her apartment. She hadn’t expected anything social. But he’d asked her to come to a charity event this evening.

She’d said, ‘Is that a good idea? People might start to ask questions...wonder who I am...’

Cassie, for starters. Her friend was due to arrive home any day now, and Ashling had no idea how she was going to begin explaining what had happened.

But Zach had brushed it off. ‘It’s a private event...tight security. It shouldn’t attract too much attention.’

Then she’d said, ‘I don’t have anything to wear to an event.’

He’d said, ‘Leave it with me. I’ll arrange it.’

And this was the dress that had been delivered. Obviously to his specifications.

She’d put her hair up, to try and look as sophisticated as the dress.

Zach appeared in the doorway, wearing a tuxedo and carrying a box. He said, ‘You look...stunning.’

A part of Ashling was a little disappointed with Zach’s obvious approval. Especially after what he’d intuited the other night at his country house—that she wore colour to rebel against her father’s lack of interest. It might have started like that, but now it was her.Who she was. Her essence.

Right now, though, she didn’t really feel like her. Not like she had in that glorious dress at the weekend. She felt she was betraying herself a little.

But then she told herself she was being ridiculous. It was one night. One dress. These moments with Zach were finite.

‘Thank you.’ She affected a little curtsey.

Zach came into the room and opened the box, saying, ‘I thought you might need something to go with the dress.’

Ashling looked inside and gasped. There was a pearl bracelet, with what looked like a diamond catch, and pearl drop earrings.

She looked at Zach. ‘Are these real?’

‘Of course.’

Ashling shook her head. ‘Zach, I can’t. They’re too valuable. What if I lose an earring or the bracelet falls—?’

‘They’re yours. A gift.’

Her mouth dropped. A veritable tsunami of conflicting emotions swirled in her belly. When she could move her jaw again she said, ‘I can’t...really. It’s too much.’

But Zach was already taking out the bracelet and fastening it around her wrist, saying, ‘Just try them on, hmm...?’

He handed her the earrings. She wasn’t even sure why she was so reluctant, or why there was a feeling of gathering dread in her belly, so she put them on. They swung from her ears, their lustrous sheen catching the light.

Zach put his hands on her shoulders. He towered above her. They matched. Her black dress and pearls with his classic black and white tuxedo. And yet something jarred inside Ashling.

But then he was taking her hand and leading her out, downstairs to his car. They passed Peters on the way, and if Ashling wasn’t mistaken the man gave her a sliver of a smile.

Now she was even more freaked out.

It took Zach a minute to realise why he couldn’t find Ashling in the crowd. Because she looked like everyone else in their tones of black, grey, white and not many variations on those themes.

He pushed aside the niggle of his conscience. He’d deliberately instructed the boutique to deliver a dress that he knew Ashling wouldn’t choose for herself. Obeying some very nebulous desire to see her in another environment. His environment. Because he needed to know if—

‘Sorry. I got lost coming back from the ladies.’

Zach looked at Ashling. His eye was drawn to the splash of colour just above one ear. Delicate pink flowers tucked artfully into her hair.

‘What’s that?’

She touched the flowers. ‘Is it too much? I spotted the hotel florists changing the flower display. They were going to end up in a bin, so I took a few.’

Zach shook his head, biting back a smile. ‘No, it’s not too much. It’s pretty.’

He took her hand, feeling something inside him ease—just before he looked across the room and saw something, someone, and any sense of ease dissolved in a rush of hot emotion.

‘What is it?’ Ashling had clearly noticed the change in him immediately.

‘My father.’ He bit the words out.

He barely heard Ashling’s intake of breath or felt her hand tightening around his.

‘Where is he?’

‘Talking to his wife. The mother of my half-brothers and sisters.’

Ashling followed Zach’s eyeline to a tall man in the crowd. Distinguished. The woman beside him was also tall and elegant. The perfect couple. Ashling felt sick for Zach. She could imagine only too well how he must be feeling. Betrayed and rejected all over again.

A surge of protectiveness rose up inside her—and a need to right the wrong she’d done four years before. Zach’s father had used her as an unwitting tool to hurt his own son.

Before she could think it through, Ashling had pulled her hand free of Zach’s and was marching through the crowd towards his father, borne aloft on a wave of righteous anger.

She wasn’t even aware of the sense of déjà-vu: walking through a crowd towards a tall man...walking around to stand in front of him.

This time she wasn’t nervous, though. She was livid.

Zach’s father looked her up and down. His eyes were blue. Not dark. Cold.

‘Yes? Can I help you?’

‘Don’t you recognise me?’

The man immediately looked discomfited and guilty, more than hinting at a lifetime of behaviour similar to what he’d subjected Zach’s mother to.

Ashling was disgusted. ‘No, I don’t mean like that. I mean from four years ago, when you hired an actor to publicly humiliate your own son.’

The man’s eyes narrowed and comprehension dawned. ‘You had red hair. A short dress.’

‘So you do remember?’

He hissed at her. ‘Get out of here now or I’ll call the police.’

The women beside him spoke sharply. ‘Henry, what is going on?’

The man looked at Ashling, up and down. ‘Nothing, darling. This tart is just some opportunist. She shouldn’t be here.’

Those words made a red mist descend over Ashling’s vision. Her voice rang out. ‘Zachary Temple is more of a son than you could ever deserve. You’re not fit to clean his shoes. You’re a disgrace.’

Before Ashling knew what was happening Zach’s father had lifted his hand, as if to strike her, but someone stood in front of her before he could.

Zach. His voice was ice-cold. ‘Don’t even think about it. I’ll have you flat on your back with a broken jaw and the police will be here so quickly your head will be spinning for a year.’

Ashling took a step to the side, to see Zach’s father’s hand still raised. The look in his eyes was one of pure and utter hatred. His face was mottled. There was a deadly silence. And then a flash of light.

Zach turned, took Ashling’s hand, and then everything was a blur until they were outside the venue and Zach was bundling her into the back of his car. Ashling realised she was trembling all over from the overload of adrenalin and emotion. She could still feel herself flinching in anticipation of a physical blow.

Zach was like a statue next to her. The journey back to his house was made in tense silence. As the shock wore off, though, dread settled in Ashling’s belly. She’d overstepped the mark—spectacularly. He’d never forgive her for this.

When they got back to the house Zach went straight into the reception room. Ashling followed him. He poured himself a drink and threw it back.

He turned around. ‘What the hell were you thinking, Ashling?’

She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry. I just... I saw him and I got so angry when I thought of everything...’

Zach started to pace. ‘He could have hurt you. He nearly did!’

Ashling almost flinched again at the memory. ‘You stopped him.’

Zach kept pacing. ‘Four years ago was bad. It was embarrassing and it cost me. But I managed to overcome the talk and the reputational damage. I worked hard to restore confidence and faith. But now... I have so much more to lose.’ He stopped, looked at Ashling. ‘The one thing I had going for me was the fact that no one knew who my father was. There were rumours, but that was all. At first I hated it that he didn’t acknowledge me. Then I didn’t want to be associated with him. But now that’s all gone. It’ll be all over the papers that I’m Henry Field’s son. There’ll be constant speculation as to whether or not he influenced my success in any way. My reputation will come under scrutiny all over again.’ Zach gestured to Ashling. ‘You might look the part this evening, but you’ve just proved that you really don’t belong in this world.’

If he’d slapped her across the face it wouldn’t have had the same impact. He might as well have taken out a knife and sliced her heart wide open.

Ashling couldn’t breathe for a long moment, so sharp was the pain. Then she said shakily, ‘I knew it. You got this dress on purpose, to try and see if I could fit in. Was it some kind of an audition to see if I was suitable for a wider public audience?’

‘Well, if it was, you failed.’

Ashling shook her head. ‘I didn’t ask for this, Zach. I thought we were done.’

He closed the distance between them so fast, she took a step back.

‘Don’t make me prove you a liar, Ashling. When I turned up at your door you were with me all the way.’

She really didn’t need to be reminded of the relief she’d felt right now. ‘I meant I didn’t ask to be a part of your world. I know it would never work.’

Zach made a rude sound. ‘The innocent ingénue is back, I see.’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Elena Stephanides has been in touch, looking for your contact details. Apparently you were discussing her investing in a business, the setting up of a yoga studio?’

Ashling’s mind was blank for a moment—and then she remembered. It had been a very innocent conversation that she’d passed off as nonsense at the time. Flattered but embarrassed.

She shook her head. ‘That was nothing. Is nothing. She was complimentary about my yoga teaching. I told her I had a pipedream to one day own my own studio... I had no idea she’d actually follow up on it.’

Zach made another sound. ‘Kind of convenient to have a conversation about “nothing” with one of the wealthiest women in Europe, though.’

The pain deepened and spread throughout Ashling’s body, turning her blood cold. ‘I knew you were cynical, Zach, but that is...beyond...’

Zach tugged at his bow-tie, undid his top button. Even now, in the midst of all this, Ashling could still be aware of him. Those long fingers.

‘It’s not cynical. It’s how the world works.’

‘Your world. Not mine.’

Zach took down his hand, leaving the bow-tie rakishly undone. ‘Oh, yes—because your world is so much more worthy. Because you get enjoyment out of earthy, basic pleasures. Because you’re not corrupted by ambition and success and wealth.’

Before she could respond he went on.

‘And yet you took to the billionaire lifestyle without too much of a struggle.’ He put his hands out, ‘Now that we know where we both stand, maybe we can revisit that audition to be my mistress. After all, I don’t think we’re quite done, are we?’

Ashling was so angry and hurt she was dizzy with it. ‘Whatever I felt for you is dead, Zach. I could never want someone so cruel, so cynical—’

She was in his arms and his mouth was on hers before she had time to take another breath.

Ashling managed to resist for about one second, while the anger raged, but then Zach’s mouth softened, his arm relaxed infinitesimally, and desire overtook the rage, blazing up in a storm of want and need and hurt and anger. Because even in the midst of her pain she understood his.

Her arms climbed around his neck, her body straining against his, and then he pulled back. He put his hands on her arms, held her away from him. She could feel her hair unravelling. The flowers lay at her feet, wilted. Mocking.

She pulled back too, with a jerky move. ‘I think we are done, actually. Goodbye, Zach.’

Ashling turned and walked from the room on very wobbly legs. She went upstairs, changed into her own clothes. Left the dress and the jewellery behind.

This time when she went downstairs there was no disapproving Peters, no sign of Zach.

She opened the door and walked to the nearest tube station and went home.

Zach heard the front door opening and closing. He knew she was gone.

It was only now that the volatile mix of inarticulate rage and lust was finally clearing from his brain. Except when he thought of seeing his father raise his hand to strike Ashling he felt the anger rise again. Not even anger. Murderous rage.

His insides turned to ice. No. Not going there.

And then all he could see was Ashling standing in front of him just now. Looking pale. Stricken. Mouth swollen from his kiss. He’d had to put her away from him. He’d been afraid that he wouldn’t be able to stop kissing her, and that was all he had intended. To make a point. It had been very important not to expose himself.

There was a bitter taste in his mouth. Four years ago he’d stood in a room and felt the judgement and condemnation of his peers. He’d thought he might never recover. It had happened again this evening. With possibly worse repercussions. He had more to lose now. A lot more.

But instead of that being his focus all he could feel were the four walls of the empty room closing in around him and the sensation that, whatever damage had been done in that ballroom full of his peers this evening, somehow the real damage had been done here in this room.

And then he told himself he was being ridiculous. The only damage he needed to worry about was damage limitation. Putting Ashling out of his head once and for all. She was right—they were done. He didn’t need a lover who tied him up in so many knots he couldn’t think straight. Or a lover who waded in to fight battles he’d been fighting on his own for years.

He didn’t need any of that.

He didn’t need her.

He didn’t need anyone.

In a bid to prove something to himself, Zach went upstairs, taking the stairs two at a time. He found the dress Ashling had been wearing hanging up in the wardrobe. Something about that detail irritated him intensely.

And then he looked around for the sheen of cool, pale pearls. He saw the box and picked it up, opening it. It was empty.

Annoyingly, his first reaction wasn’t a sense of vindication because she’d taken the jewellery—after all, he’d told her it was a gift. But he was disappointed.

He was almost out of the room before something caught the corner of his eye. He stopped. The bracelet and earrings were on the top of a chest of drawers, neatly lined up. She hadn’t taken them.