Exquisite Revenge

Jesse closed her eyes on the starry sky outside and shut down inside. She retreated back to a place she knew, where she was icy and removed from anything too painful.

When she finally got to Britain, on the plane that had been waiting for her in Athens, the woman at Immigration said officiously, ‘You need a licence for that animal—he needs to be checked and given shots and registered.’

Jesse shook her head, the thought of being separated from Tigger breaking through the ice. ‘I didn’t realise. I’ve never owned a pet before …’

The immigration official looked from Jesse’s red eyes and puffy face to the tiny ball of fur miaowing pathetically occasionally. She sighed and looked at her watch. It was four a.m., and Jesse was the only passenger.

‘I could lose my job for this, but I’m going to pretend I didn’t see him.’ She waggled a finger at Jesse and looked stern. ‘But I’m going to check on the system to make sure you get him thoroughly checked and properly registered, so

make sure you do.’

Jesse started crying all over again at the woman’s kindness.

There was no ice left to cloak herself with; she was a mess.

Two Months Later …

Jesse took a deep breath and looked at herself in the floor-length mirror in her bedroom. The dress was a deep blue colour, and silk. It was a feat of designing that Jesse didn’t understand. All she knew was that it showed far more skin than she was comfortable with. Practically her whole back was bare, apart from one strip of material connecting the front to the back, and it was very low-cut at the front.

Her fingers itched to take it off and put on a familiar dress suit, but then she remembered the spurt of something very illicit when she’d spotted it in the window of the shop in town that afternoon. She’d been trying it on before she’d even registered her intent, and the shop assistant had said, ‘The dress was made for you. You have the perfect figure to carry it off …’

Jesse knew it was just sales patter, but for a brief moment she’d felt something close to how she’d felt when Luc had looked at her naked body: beautiful and sensual.

Luc. Jesse shut the closet door on her reflection with force and hunted for the shoes she’d bought to go with the dress, resolutely pushing thoughts of him out of her mind with an effort. She was going to a charity auction tonight, in aid of a cause she supported. It was her first opportunity to be the kind of woman she’d always envied … And just like that her rebellious thoughts zeroed in on Luc again.

Ever since that Friday, which she’d dubbed Black Friday in her head, she’d been waiting for Luc to appear, thumping on her door or storming her offices. Demanding retribution. But the days and weeks had passed and he hadn’t materialised.

Jesse had battled with a maelstrom of emotions when it had become clear that Luc had clearly washed his hands of her. If she’d needed confirmation of how little he would have cared for her under normal circumstances this was it. He didn’t even care enough to punish her for thwarting his own plans for revenge.

Adding to the mix of emotions was the evidence she’d sought that had confirmed Luc’s story was real. Every word. His father had been the poor but proud Spanish foreman at one of her father’s construction sites and his wife a quiet Frenchwoman. And his sister did indeed have special needs. Jesse had unearthed some pictures of him attending charity functions in aid of research into autism.

As for her father—he was well and truly finished. He was in hock to too many people, and a trial looked increasingly likely as all his various tax and fraud transgressions came to light. Not to mention mounting lawsuits from various employees who’d been intimidated into silence before, and were now coming forward with stories of harrassment, unfair dismissal and worse.

Even his wife was selling her story to the papers, depicting a tale of violent abuse for years. All his assets had been seized, and he was being watched to make sure he didn’t flee the country.

Jesse had expected at least a feeling of euphoric triumph to know she’d finally seen to her father’s end, but since it had happened she’d felt curiously empty and flat. On some level she did finally feel a sense of peace as if all that anger and rage and hurt had dissipated at last and been rendered impotent, but with shameful predictability her mind kept deviating not to her father or to the new lease of life she now faced, but to someone else …

The night after Luc had returned from the island he’d been splashed all over the news, appearing at a royal gala auction in aid of numerous charities with a stunning and recently Oscar-nominated actress on his arm. Since then he seemed to have been wining and dining a steady stream of women, each more beautiful than the last.

The press were in a frenzy. Luc Sanchis had never gone so overtly public before, and they couldn’t get enough of it.

For a second Jesse stopped and closed her eyes, putting a hand to her chest as pain gripped her—she had to stop thinking about him. But it was impossible. She saw him everywhere, but paler imitations of him: today in the shop she’d nearly had a heart attack when a tall, dark, broad man had come in with his lover, a hand low on her back in a sexy caress. But it hadn’t been him.

At night it was worse, when in dreams she relived in lurid detail every moment of those days on the island. She’d told him everything. Nothing had been sacred when she’d been indulging in a fantasy world and had forgotten why they were there in the first place.

Just then she felt a tugging sensation on the end of her dress and looked down to see Tigger about to sink a claw into the material. Jesse caught him up in her hands.

‘Oh, no, you don’t …’

She snuggled her face into his fur, relishing his warmth. He’d already grown and put on weight. She’d taken him to the vet and he’d been microchipped, vaccinated and even issued with his own passport. He was now a fully registered pet.

Jesse did feel pangs of guilt that she’d taken him from Luc, but she’d been in such turmoil that night as she’d got ready to leave that she hadn’t been able to ignore the visceral impulse to take him with her. She needed him.

When he scrambled to be free again Jesse followed him out of her bedroom to the main living area. She took in the couch and table that had been delivered that week. And the TV.

Emotion made her chest tight. Finally she was beginning to move on with her life. She had a level of closure. What she’d always wanted. But, as much as she’d have liked to ascribe this long-overdue metamorphosis to seeing her father brought to justice, Jesse had to face the very uncomfortable suspicion that it had a lot more to do with Luc Sanchis and the change he’d precipitated within her on the island.

She heard the intercom announcing that her taxi had arrived and turned away from her thoughts with relief. She tried to ignore the giant-sized ache of loneliness in her chest. She also tried to ignore the fluttering of anticipation in her belly that just possibly Luc might have been invited to the event …