Hot Revenge Box Set 2

Still steaming from my shower, my hair turbaned into a towel, I examine the two dresses I brought with me. I’m not sure how formal the Threesome are with dinner, so I packed choices.

I hold them up to Ryan. “Which dress do you think I should wear? Christmas red with sparkly bits, or classic ‘little black dress’?”

“Not the red,” says Ryan. “That satin will show every mark.”

“Why should it get marked? We're only having dinner.”

He sits on the edge of the bed, tugging off his boots and smiling away from me. “I’m going for my shower.”

?

Mmmm…

Standing in front of the mirror, I switch on the hair-drier, brushing through my long locks, easing them to lie as I want, slightly covering my left cheek.

Ryan comes up close behind me. Taking me by the shoulders, he presses lips to the cheek, then in the mirror, his eyes meet mine. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious about it. It barely shows. And in any case, you are still a beautiful woman; the most beautiful I know.”

“I… I still prefer to cover it if I can,” I stutter. I angle my face to the mirror, tracing a fingertip down the jagged red scar down the side of my face.

After my time in hospital, my months invalided, all my other injuries healed, but this…

An extra layer of foundation…

And some blusher…

Then no-one will see it…

*****

“Dinner is served!” James’ voice reverberates from the kitchen.

We head for the dining room. Out in the hall, Charlotte and Mitch descend the stairs, Mitch carrying Cara.

Mitch looks amazing. In a dress of jade, her hair is set in an elaborately up-style and at her neck she wears the silver and emerald necklace. The matching combs glint green against her copper-red hair.

Charlotte looks equally good. Although she still has much of her ‘pregnant shape’, the gown she wears emphasises her height and her much-expanded bosom but drapes smoothly over her expanded stomach.

Michael and Larry enter together, wearing their sweaters in a kind of protective fraternity, Rudolph side by side with the penguin, each refusing to meet each other’s eyes. Charlotte and Mitch exchange giggles as their men sit beside them.

Richard and Beth join us, she leaning on his arm, waddling a bit as he guides her to sit next to Charlotte. But Beth too, for all her advanced pregnancy, looks spectacular, in a dress chosen to make the best of her inflated stomach and bosom.

Michael aims a finger at Richard. “If you think you’re getting away with the suit and shirt, you’re mistaken. If the rest of us have to dress like idiots, so do you.”

Mitch turns to him, her voice all innocence. “Idiots, Michael?”

He turns to her, bowing elaborately. “My apologies, Mitch. If the rest of us have to meet your high sartorial standards, so does Richard.” He turns back to Beth’s elegantly dressed husband. “Go and change.”

James enters carrying a platter of smoked salmon, bedded on a green salad and dressed with sliced lemons.

Richard demurs, smirking…. “The meal’s arrived. If I take the time to change, the food will be cold.”

Michael takes on a quite untypical heartless tone. “Smoked salmon doesn’t go cold. Neither does melon. We’ll wait.”

James, Rudolph staring out from his chest, sets down the platter. “I’ll be back in in a sec with the soup. It’s just under the grill now.”

Hope lights up Richard’s face but Michael interrupts, “Just hold the soup for five minutes will you, James. Richard wants to change into something more appropriate. We don’t want his starter to go cold.”

James measures the billionaire’s perfectly cut, hand-stitched suit with his eye and his face stone-walls. “Yes, quite right. We’ll wait for you, Richard.”

Next to me Ryan, in his silk shirt and tie, lets out a slow release of air.

“Just realising what a narrow escape you had?” I murmur.

He scratches his nose and sniffs. “Mmmph…”

clattering back down the stairs, James gives a satisfied chuckle and vanishes from the dining room. Five minutes later, at

down, centre-table then takes his place, then glances up. “It

face almost

offers up a bottle. “Red or white,

“Red for me, please.”

the table,

serves the food. “Larry, French onion soup, melon

his

He’s always watching her…

radiating good humour as he serves himself a generous helping, squeezing lemon

down sidelong at his plate, her mouth twisting. “I don’t

crinkling, drawls, “Mitch is sensitive to anything of this sort.

melon. “You’ve visited Scandinavia, Larry?

table to Richard’s sweater, then he twists side-on to face Mitch. “Did I ever tell

at her teeth, then props her chin on a fist. “No, I don’t think you

swallows, then sits back in his chair, punctuating his words with his fork. “Well, you see, in Sweden, they have much the same idea as here about Santa Claus. Over there, they call him Jultomten. Or just Tomten… Anyway, Tomten gives presents to all the…” He makes air commas with paired fingers… “… good little boys and girls, but whereas Father Christmas here comes in the night down the chimney and leaves the presents under the

staring at her father as though she has

how often Santa ever visited

…

Or him?

the house on Christmas Eve to meet the children. So…” He stabs at another slice

here? Of course, all the kids say, ‘Yes’. So, then he’ll sit them on his knee…” Larry shifts to a fake and slightly comic Swedish accent… “So, Inga… You have been a good little girl?

another mouthful of wine. “And of course, it would be rude not to offer Tomten hospitality, so the parents will give him a slice of cake or stollen,

good so far…” says Mitch, her

He grins and takes another swig of

he setting out to get drunk? Or just trying to

Or… actually, genuinely, relaxing?

what you might call professional

in paired hands. “I’m beginning to see where

nods a grin at him. “So, if Tomten has, say, twenty bookings on Christmas Eve, by the end of the afternoon, he’s visited twenty houses,

finger at him…” …

Christmas Eve night, it’s not that uncommon to visit the town centre in Sweden to find two dozen Father Christmases, complete

out laughing. Mitch gets a fit

been to Sweden, Mitch?” I

Larry took me to Finland

“Really? That sounds marvellous.”

slowly. “One of the

over the table, topping up her glass. “But you didn’t take

of it I liked. I remember there was a tiny little cafe. It only had a couple of chairs and those were outside on the street. There must have been two feet of

the tall, fair-haired man next to her, and her

still, watching her parents, all

is still speaking. “…So, yes, the salmon soup was great.

suppressing a smile. “In fact…” he says… “… If I am not much mistaken...” He hesitates, glances at Charlotte, and then very obviously, closes his

down to her plate. Blinking, she sips at her wine. “Yes,” she mumbles. It sounds like a confession.

obviously…” His voice turns dry… “… I was missing certain crucial information

and Michael exchange

missing

are you both talking

shouldn’t have said anything. It’s not for me to speak unless your mother

has when she’s not happy about something. “Whatever it is, it sounds important.” Her words shift to a hiss.

Wishing he’d not spoken?

a hand on her shoulder. “Calm down, Babe. Sometimes people have private stuff between them. You know that.

mind. It’s just a bit… er…

Michael. “Since it’s a day for embarrassing confessions…” Then he turns, aiming his words at Charlotte. “Twenty-six years

round. “Why did you choose

raises hands to heaven. “It was Christmas. She wanted snow…” Everyone

had the opportunity. So, I took her to Helsinki for Christmas. Everything was new to her and at first, meals-wise, she stayed with what was familiar; porridge and fruit for breakfast. That kind of thing. But after a few days of playing safe, she decided to get adventurous