Free Vendetta by Susan Napier

temporarily. She pulled the door softly to, and switched on the light.
    There was a computer work-station and various unidentifiable pieces of electronic equipment, and a big desk strewn with papers.
    Vivian ignored the wall of shelves lined with jars and tubes of dubious-looking specimens, her heart sinking at the sight of the heavy steel combination-safe on the floor.
    She went over to the desk. Only the top drawer was locked and she rifled quickly through the others, finding mostly stationery and files of scientific papers and journals. Nothing that might tell her more about Nicholas the man . No stray photographs of his wife or son. No photos of any other kind either…
    Adrenalin spurted through her veins and her sweaty hands shook as she unlocked the top drawer and sat down on the big swivel chair behind the desk to reach inside.
    The first thing she touched was a small medicine bottle, and her fingers tightened around the amber glass as shepicked it up and read the typed label: chloral hydrate. Her soft mouth tightened and she pushed the half-full bottle into her trouser pocket, intending to dump the contents at the first opportunity.
    Her heart gave a nervous convulsion when she saw what the drug had been sitting on—the settlement contract, signed, witnessed, dated—intact and still viable…
    She lifted it out and weighed it in her hands. But no…even if she took it, where could she hide it? The fact that Nicholas hadn’t already destroyed it was surely a hopeful sign. As long as it lay here undisturbed, Marvel-Mitchell Realties still had a future.
    She put the contract back, her breath fluttering as she slid it to one side and saw her forlorn dis-engagement ring crowning one very distinctive, disturbingly erotic photograph. She tried not to look at the haunting image, afraid to touch it lest she become further victim to her depraved fascination with Nicholas Thorne.
    But where were the others Nicholas had taunted her with? The wedding was supposed to be the day after tomorrow. If only she could continue to stave off disaster until the ceremony was over! She didn’t want her wedding-present to Peter and Janna to be a bunch of pornographic photographs and a threat of financial ruin. She could just imagine the poor vicar’s face if he caught a glimpse of any of those pictures. She would never be able to hold up her head in church again!
    However much she longed to believe that her brief presence here had taken the edge off Nicholas’s bitterness, had softened and changed him, she didn’t dare take the risk of relying on her increasingly biased judgement where he was concerned. Only when Janna and Peterwere safely and securely married would Vivian let herself take the gamble of trusting Nicholas, telling him the truth and hoping that he would justify her faith in his basic humanity.
    She scrabbled frantically through the drawer, reaching deep into the back where she found something firmly wedged. She pulled it out.
    A cellphone. She flicked a switch. A working cellphone.
    Civilisation was only a single telephone call away.
    The alternatives bolted through her brain in the space of a split second. She didn’t have to go through with it. She could call Peter—call the cops. She could cause a scandal. Make a great deal of misery for everyone concerned, but save herself.
    And perhaps drive Nicholas out of her life forever…
    She let the telephone clatter back into the drawer at the same instant that she became aware of another presence in the room.
    She hadn’t heard him on the stairs and now she saw why. His feet were bare as he crossed the uneven wooden floor, not making a sound. He wore only a white towelling robe and his hair drifted in damp clumps across his brow.
    He was breathing hard. And he was angry.
    ‘Careless of me.’ Nicholas leant over and slammed the drawer viciously shut, nearly catching her guilty fingers in the process.
    ‘And even more careless of you to be caught.’ He locked it and