Free Her Perfect Revenge by Anna Mara Page A

What was going on? And what was that niggling thought in the back of her brain that was trying to push its way through the thick, London fog her mind had become when 'he' had walked into the room?
    "No, I had no idea," Bill smiled sweetly as he turned to William. "You didn't tell me… dad."
    "Didn't I?" William innocently looked back at his son—as innocently as he could ever remember being—which was never.
    "No. I would have remembered," Bill gritted his teeth behind a phony smile.
    "No matter." William sipped his drink. "I thought we could all have dinner together and discuss… things. Why? Is there a problem?" He challenged his son.
    "No, no problem." Bill grinned back, trying to appear cool and unruffled.
    Christina wasn't really paying attention. She was trying to remember something William had said when the rat bastard had walked in and she'd lost her focus. Something about her? Or was it about Bill? Or about her and Bill? Something about—suddenly, Christina gasped loudly. It was about her and Bill—and their marriage? Her stunned eyes swiveled to William.
    "What did you…?" She never finished the sentence because at that instant, Bill rushed forward and pulled her tense body to his, planting a big, passionate kiss on her lips. Taken by surprise, Christina just let it happen. Two seconds later, Bill pulled back from her bewildered face.
    "Darling, I need to speak to you in private." Smiling at his father, he grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the French doors, which led outside into the gardens of the estate. If they were being chased by a pack of tigers, they couldn't have moved any faster.
    Christina was so flabbergasted by what was happening that she didn't even think to snatch her wrist out of his hand. In fact, her mind was completely focused on valiantly trying not to spill the contents of her martini glass.
    Too late. The alcoholic concoction left a trail of spots across the expensive carpet as her drink sloshed from side to side of its crystal rim.
    In a millisecond, they were outside and Bill marched her further away from the house and out of view of William.
    William watched them leave and then burst out laughing. He lifted his glass high in the air in a mocking toast. "Thank you, dear boy. I needed that." He continued to laugh as he made his way to the drinks trolley for a refill.
     
     
    * * *
    Christina was marched across the vast expanse of green lawn like a parent marching a three-year-old away from the candy aisle. And she, still holding onto that damn martini for dear life, was too confused to do anything about it. Her brain felt like it had been put in a blender.
    They reached the edges of the large, Romanesque swimming pool and Bill finally released her wrist. He was breathing heavily and beads of sweat were starting to form on his brow. He frantically searched Christina's eyes.
    "Look, whatever my father told you, I can explain."
    Christina stared into those gorgeous, devious, evil, green eyes of his—and she was transported back in time to that crushing day at Cloverdale High. She was frozen.
    Bill, too, was frozen as he stared back at this beautiful creature that now had the power to explode his privileged world apart. He waited for some response from her, anything that would tell him to proceed with his explanations and damage control.
    They each held their breaths as the moment stretched to infinity.
    Suddenly, Christina's brain synapses began to fire up again. Had William actually said something about her marriage—to his son? And had Bill actually called her 'darling'? And—oh my God—had he actually 'kissed' her with those vile, disgusting, drunken, 'who knows-where-they've-been' lips of his? She stared at Bill in total shock.
    Bill was still waiting for Christina to say something. His eyes searched her face and he became frantic at her silence, "Christina?"
    And on hearing her sweet name coming out of his filthy mouth, Christina instinctively did the only thing she could