In the Rich Man's World

She’d trusted him.

Trusted him with the most painful part of her life. And he’d chewed it up whole and spat it in her face, prostituted her with a pay-off—an article she hadn’t, in the end, even particularly wanted.

For a small moment she was tempted to drag out the torture, to barge into his room and confront the woman she knew was in there, to force him to admit what Amelia already knew. But she couldn’t bring herself to suffer the indignity of being proved right, to choke back tears as he humiliated her all over again.

If she were even to attempt a retreat with her dignity apparently intact, somehow she had to do this—somehow she had to look him in the eye and deliver the biggest lie of her life.

‘This isn’t a great time for me, Amelia. Something unexpected came up…’ His voice was low and urgent, and again he briefly checked over his shoulder. ‘Can we maybe catch up later?’

‘Later is no good for me, Vaughan,’ Amelia responded firmly, registering the dart of confusion in his eyes at her clipped, assured voice. ‘The office just called. They need me to head back to Sydney—something big just came up.’

‘And you have to go right now?’

‘Right now,’ Amelia confirmed, a brittle smile flashing on her face as Vaughan briefly eyed the bulging suitcase on the floor beside her before turning his gaze back to her. ‘I just stopped by to say goodbye.’

‘Then call me when you get back to your home—’ Vaughan started, and a frown formed between his eyes as Amelia shook her head.

‘Look, Vaughan, like I said, something big just came up. I could be stuck in the office for hours. I might even have to go on assignment. So I’ve no idea when I’m going to get back.’ Glancing down at her watch, she gave what she hoped was a convincing wince. ‘I’d better rush if I’m going to get my flight.’

Vaughan’s frown deepened as Amelia shook her head and somehow managed a kind but slightly patronising smile.

‘Let’s not go making promises we can’t keep. Let’s not pretend that last night was anything more than…’ She allowed him a tiny pause, a brief moment to let it sink in, because it wouldn’t be easy for a man like Vaughan to fathom that a woman was actually rejecting him, Amelia realised. Like Taylor, he was completely used to getting his own way—flashing a winning smile and instantly being forgiven. But, as much as Taylor’s infidelity had hurt, Vaughan’s abuse of her trust had cut her to the core, shredded every fibre of her faith; yet somehow from agony came strength; somehow the torture of his betrayal allowed her to draw on an inner reserve, to look him in the eye and lie outright.

‘It was business, Vaughan.’

He shook his head in vehement denial, the colour draining out of his already ashen face. His face quilted with raw emotion and, forgetting the door he held, he instinctively reached out for her, grabbing her upper arm, shaking her, his eyes imploring her to take back what she had just said.

‘That was never business. What we had last night was way more than that, and you know it, Amelia.’ His voice was rising now. A housekeeper passing with her trolley looked over in concern, and Amelia watched as Vaughan struggled to hold it together, dropping her arm from his vice-like grip, swallowing down hard to rid his voice of coarse emotion. ‘That wasn’t just business.’

‘No, Vaughan, you’re right.’ She gave a small shrug and, bending over, picked up her case. ‘It was pleasurable too. Unlike yourself, I can actually manage to mix the two.’

‘So that’s it?’ Bewildered, he shook his head, and Amelia knew she’d thrown him into confusion, could see the utter abhorrence in his eyes that a woman could so easily turn the tables on him. ‘You were using me?’

‘We were using each other, Vaughan,’ Amelia explained, apparently patiently, though her heart was hammering in her chest, bile rising in her throat as she cheapened herself to his level. But not for a second did she reveal it, standing not very tall, but somehow proud as Vaughan received a small taste of the medicine that over the years he’d so regularly given out. ‘I’ve got the story I wanted and you’ve got the press on your side—for now, at least.’

It gave her the first stab of pleasure she’d felt since seeing him in the foyer, a tiny hint of bitter joy in reprisal, and it stirred her on to twist the knife in its final turn.

‘It’s been nice, Vaughan.’

Offering her hand, she wondered if he’d take it, wondered if he’d recover his ego quickly enough to attempt the upper hand. But Vaughan was clearly struggling, raking his hand through his hair, his breath coming loud and harsh as he turned to the door that had slammed behind him. For a tiny instant Amelia actually felt sorry for him, watching this dignified, proud man rummaging in his pockets for the swipe card, then standing back as the housekeeper who had been hovering moved to let him in, then stepped back again as the door opened of its own accord.

‘What’s going on?’

Dark hair still wet from the shower spilled down over olive shoulders, and the face devoid of make-up was nothing short of exquisite. Somehow Amelia processed these facts. Somehow she managed to stand as gravity lost its pull. Those exotic eyes she had viewed from a distance in the foyer were even more beautiful close up, with flecks of gold in their feline depths as she slowly took in the scene, then looked up to Vaughan, demanding an explanation.

‘Is there a problem?’

If this woman couldn’t work it out for herself then Amelia wasn’t going to enlighten her—which maybe went against the grain of sisterhood, but frankly, at that moment in time, Amelia didn’t care.

‘There’s no problem, Liza.’ Vaughan offered a reassuring smile. ‘Amelia’s just a journalist, sniffing around for a story.’ Navy eyes that had once adored her stared at her now with disgust. ‘Isn’t that right?’

‘But what does she want?’ Liza demanded, wary eyes slanting more suspiciously now—only not at Vaughan, but directly at Amelia. ‘Don’t you lot have any respect for other people’s privacy? There’s a “Do Not Disturb” sign on the door—how dare you just intrude…?’

‘It’s okay, Liza.’ His voice was supremely gentle as he guided her back inside—an utter contrast to the black look of hatred he was shooting at Amelia. ‘It’s nothing for you to worry about; nothing at all.’

Slamming the door in her face, he left her standing. And despite what he’d done, despite the pain he’d caused, somehow he’d still managed to win. Somehow he’d managed to turn the tables on her. His rejection, his outright abhorrence towards her, was such a far cry from anything she could have imagined. The pain in his eyes, the lack of dignity in his defeat…

In one fell swoop he’d soured her tiny taste of victory—and worst of all, Amelia realised as she stood there, shocked and reeling, had been the softness in his voice when he’d spoken to Liza. The protectiveness of his gestures had cut her to the core.

It was jealousy that was choking her as she gathered up her case and stumbled to the lift, jealousy seeping from every pore, every fibre in her body, as she hobbled like a wounded animal along the long, lonely corridor.

Vaughan Mason was a bare-faced liar, a cruel, vindictive bastard, and yet…

Punching the lift button, leaning back against the cool glass mirrors, finally she gave in to the tears that would surely choke her…

She wanted it to be her.

Wanted Vaughan to be wrapping his arms around her. Wanted Vaughan shooing away the world for her when it all got too close.

Vaughan Mason was the man she truly loved.

CHAPTER TEN

‘SORRY, there’s absolutely nothing.’ The ground stewardess tapped away at her computer one more time for luck. ‘I’m afraid Friday night out of Melbourne is possibly the worst time to get a cancellation. There’s nothing till the red-eye tomorrow at six a.m.’

‘That’s fine.’ Amelia ran a tired hand through her hair. ‘If you can book me on that, it would be great.’

Perhaps the stewardess had expected a wail of protest, a demand to see her supervisor, because when Amelia meekly accepted she offered her first smile. ‘You can check your luggage in now, if you like.’ As she snapped a label around Amelia’s case, her smile moved to sympathetic. ‘Do you want me to call the airport hotel? See if I can get you a room?’

Amelia shook her head. ‘I’ll just wait in the terminal.’

And she would. Because time seemed to have taken on no meaning now. There was no point paying for a bed she surely wouldn’t use, and—bizarrely—she didn’t want today to be over. Didn’t want to close her eyes on a day that had started so perfectly and ended in disaster. Didn’t want to go to sleep tonight because that would mean she’d have to wake up tomorrow, wake up and move on to the next phase of her life. And right now she wasn’t ready to face her grief alone.

But sitting at a café, drinking coffee after coffee, listening to the piped music, Amelia decided that Melbourne Airport was perhaps the loneliest place she’d ever been.

Hordes of people milled around, with trolleys clipping ankles, children dodging parents, reunited couples embracing, tearful lovers parting, and she watched it all. Occasionally she headed outside to stand in the warm night air, staring at the illuminated glass tunnel that led towards the terminals, remembering walking along it with Vaughan at the start of their adventure, remembering how good her life had been the last time she’d been there—the broad set of his shoulders as she’d clipped along behind, laughing at some throwaway comment Vaughan had made. She was scarcely able to comprehend that it had been just a few short days he had been in her world; that a man she had known for such a short space of time could be etched on her heart for ever.