Rachel Crawford found herself laughing as she got off the phone with Nicholas Grey's social secretary. The arrogant playboy still thought she was the same girl he had humiliated four years ago. She had been a girl then, she was a woman now. A woman who was now seriously thinking about revenge.
She could easily have her revenge on him, now that she was a reporter, dig up some real dirt on him, and splatter it all over the news, and she did know there was dirt to be dug up on him, a man as rich as that had to have secrets he did not want to see the light.
"Mommy, mommy, I got an 'A'," David, her three-year-old son said, running into the room.
Rachel beamed with pride at her son. "Well of course you did! You're a smart, smart little boy."
He giggled.
"Now come give momma a hug." She waited till he pushed his little body into her outstretched arms, before she squeezed him, tightly. "I love you Hun." Her voice had gotten rough with emotion as she added that last bit.
She finally pulled him away from her a bit, but only so he could see the pride shining in her eyes. She was really proud of him, and she loved him.
David was all she had, even if he did rind her a lot of his arrogant playboy of a father. The hair colour was hers, but the jet black eyes, and the rest of his colouring, not to talk of the aristocratic nose, the jawline that was already looking powerful, even at his tender age, the shape of his mouth – it was all Nicholas Grey.
She had done a fine job hiding him away from Grey, which meant hiding him from the press. She had backdated his age by one year, to throw speculators off Nicholas's scent, causing him to be placed in a class one-year ahead of him, still he was doing so well.
Rachel was supposed to meet Nicholas by four, briefly for a rehearsal of their interview that was going to be live. It was already three-twenty, and she was waiting for her babysitter to arrive before she left.
The doorbell chimed, and Rachel let out a breath, relieved. She had started worrying she would end up late, and lateness would not do anything for the nerves she felt at meeting Nicholas again.
"Hi Miss Crawford –"
"Nonsense. Call me Rachel."
"Hi Rachel," Tessa, her teenage babysitter tried again. "It's a pleasure to babysit for you. I've watched several of your interviews on TV, and I swear, I'm a real fan!"
Rachel smiled politely and nodded. "Thank you, Tessa. Your words mean a lot to me."
Because she was running out of time, Rachel hurriedly left instructions for Tessa, then she was out of her house, the ride she had ordered already waiting outside.
Rachel had deliberately decided not to drive over to The View, the exotic hotel bar she was meeting Nicholas. She wanted nothing to trouble her mind, she needed to appear as calm and in control as possible.
He was sitting by an antique fire place, dressed in black, and looking as handsome as ever. Rachel slid her off her Armani coat to reveal her custom-made spaghetti strap red dress that set off the fire in her eyes, contrasting perfectly with her honey-toned skin.
"Rachel." Nicholas said, walking up to her, to claps the hand she stretched out for a handshake firmly in his, and then he brought it to his lips.
She shivered as his lips brushed her fingers, ever so lightly, and because she was annoyed with herself at her reaction to him, her tone was brisk.
"It's so nice of you to invite me over Mr. Grey. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the career boost."
Nicholas couldn't hold back his grin. She sounded all prim and proper now, a far cry from the dishevelled girl who had crashed his wedding, dressed like a street urchin, and spouting nonsense about love. He wanted to see how sophisticated she had become in bed.
Nicholas thoughts were mirrored in his expression. He hadn't even leered at her in any way, but something about the way his eyes darkened, the ghost of a smile that curved his lips, something about his general demeanour exuded his sex appeal.
"Perhaps, we can head over to our table so that we can get down to business," Rachel said, ruffled. She always lapsed into old-fashioned formalities when she was nervous. She needed to remember why she was here, to finally have her vengeance on Nicholas, not sleep with him. But then she could still have her revenge, even if she slept with him again.
"Would you marry me Rachel?" Nicholas asked softly, making her gasp, and choke on her own saliva. These were the very words she had fantasized about him telling her, when she had just discovered she was pregnant, but not any more. Now she wanted her revenge.
Nicholas himself was surprised by his own outburst. Sure, he had meant to put the question to her, but not like that. Be careful old boy, he warned himself. Or you might end up thinking it's a real marriage when she says yes. And she would say yes, Nicholas was sure of it.
"I wouldn't marry you, not if you were the last man on earth, not if marrying you was the only thing that could save my life."
Nicholas grinned. "If you're so sure you'd not get married to me, why are you protesting so much – of course, I didn't believe all that rubbish you were spouting earlier about love," he continued, cutting her off when she would have replied. "I do however, remember how fast a million dollars silenced your complaints that day, so I'd offer you a hundred million. Stay married to me till I find your replacement, and the money is yours."
Rachel slapped him, hard, smiling in satisfaction when she saw the blood on his lower lip. "Take your money and shove it up your ass!"
Anger entered those charcoal eyes, and then it vanished as a slow smile spread on his lips, lighting his eyes with – oh gosh – sex appeal.
"Do you know what a gentleman should do to a lady that slaps him?" He didn't wait for her to reply, but yanked her against him, his lips devouring hers with a hunger that refused to be satisfied.
When Nicholas finally tore his mouth from hers, Rachel was ashamed of her uneven breathing, the trembling in her hands.
"I came to discuss your interview Nicholas."
"Ah!" He noted her use of his first name. "And I have decided you should marry me – you can have the interview too, if you insist."
"I have said I won't marry you!" Rachel snapped. She was not thinking only of herself, she was thinking about how impossible it would be to hide David from Nick if they were married.
Nicholas's eyes darkened even more, and when he pulled her against himself again, she saw the ruthlessness in his eyes. This was the ruthless man who had started a company from scratch and turned it into one of the best in the world. This man got whatever he wanted, and this time, he had decided he wanted her.
"You don't have a choice in this matter Sweetheart. In fact, I'd have a marriage contract drawn out tomorrow, and you'd sign it, or else…"
Her eyes challenged him. "Or else what?" Rachel was vaguely aware that she wouldn't have had the nerve to dare him four years ago.
He bent a bit so that his lips grazed her ear. "Or else, I'd set my hounds on you. I'd dig so deep into your past, you wouldn't like what I'd find."
Rachel shivered at his threat, but he couldn't possibly know about David. "I'd sign your contract tomorrow, and make it a hundred and fifty million."
Nicholas stepped back to observe her. What had done it for her, the money or his threat? He was beginning to wonder just what she was so keen on hiding about her past. He was damn sure going to find out.
Rachel Crawford was thinking her own thoughts, she was thinking of how she'd bring Nicholas to his knees, make him regret the day he hurt her.
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