Revenge At The Altar. Louise Fuller
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Controlling her emotions, she closed her chequebook with exaggerated care and looked up at him. ‘Why are you here, Max?’
He shrugged. ‘Isn’t that obvious? I’m a shareholder and a director now, so I thought we should talk.’
‘You could have just telephoned,’ she snapped.
‘What?’ His mouth curved up at one corner. ‘And miss all the fun.’ He let his eyes home in on the pulse beating at the base of her throat. ‘Besides, I wanted to choose my office.’
She watched almost hypnotised as he gestured lazily around the room. ‘Pick out a desk...wallpaper maybe...’
Folding her arms to stop her hands shaking, she glowered at him. The shock of everything—her father’s phone message, Max buying the shares, his sudden and unwelcome reappearance in her life—was suddenly too much to endure a moment longer.
‘Just stop it, okay? Stop it. This is insane. You can’t seriously expect to work here. Or want to.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Is there a problem?’
She looked at him in disbelief. ‘Yes, of course there’s a problem. You and me...our history—’
Breaking off, she fought to control the sudden jab of pain at the memory of just how cruelly one-sided that history had been.
‘I don’t care how many shares you buy, you are not stepping foot in this boardroom again. So how much is it?’ She forced a business-like tone into her voice. ‘How much do you want?’
She waited for his reply but it didn’t come. And then, as the silence seemed to stretch beyond all normal limits, she felt her spine stiffen with horror as slowly he shook his head.
‘I don’t want and I certainly don’t need your money.’
Watching the doubt and confusion in her eyes, he felt suddenly immensely satisfied. Buying the shares had been an act of insanity on so many levels, but now, having Margot in front of him, knowing that his mere presence had dragged her here, it all felt worth it.
Colour was spreading slowly over her cheeks.
‘Take the cheque or don’t—I don’t care.’ She lifted her chin. ‘But either way this conversation is over. And now I suggest you leave before I have you removed—’
‘That’s not going to happen.’ His voice sounded normal—pleasant, even—but she felt a shiver of apprehension, for there was a strand of steel running through every syllable that matched the combative glint in his eyes.
‘I’m not just the hired help now, baby. I’m CEO of a global wine business. More importantly, as of today, I’m a bona fide director of this company.’
He paused, and she felt as if the air was being sucked out of the room as he let his gaze linger on her face. Pulse racing, she realised that only a very foolish woman would underestimate a man like Max Montigny.
‘Your company.’
He lounged back, and suddenly her heart was thumping against her ribs.
‘Although that may be about to change.’
‘What do you mean?’ Her voice was like a whisper. She cleared her throat. ‘What are you talking about?’
He shrugged. ‘Right now you might live in the big chateau, have a private jet and a chauffeur-driven limousine, but I’ve seen your accounts.’
She frowned, started to object, but he simply smiled and she fell silent, for there was something knowing in the gaze that was making her skin start to prickle with fear and apprehension.
‘Your father showed them to me. And they make pretty bleak reading. Desperate, in fact. Oh, it all looks good on the outside, but you’re haemorrhaging money.’
Margot could feel the colour draining from her face. His words were detonating inside her head like grenades. Suddenly she was deaf, dazed, reeling blindly through the dust and rubble of the mess she had sought so hard to contain, struggling to breathe.
‘That’s not true,’ she said hoarsely. Her lungs felt as though they were being squeezed in a vice. ‘We’ve just had a difficult few months—
‘More like five years.’ He stared at her for a long moment, his gaze impassive. ‘You asked me why I’m here. Well, that’s it. That’s why. Your family is about to be ruined and I want to be here to see it.’
He stared at her steadily, his eyes straight and unblinking, and Margot stared back at him, stilled, almost mesmerised by his words. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about retribution. You and your family ruined my life, and now I get to watch your world implode.’
Margot shook her head. Stiffening her shoulders, she forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘No, you seduced me, and then you asked me to marry you just so you could get your hands on my money.’
For a moment he didn’t reply, then he shrugged, and it was that offhand gesture—the casual dismissal of the way he’d broken her heart—that told her more clearly than any words that he was being serious.
Watching the light fade from Margot’s eyes, Max told himself he didn’t care. She deserved everything that was coming. They all did.
‘And I paid for that. You and your family made sure I lost everything. I couldn’t even get a reference. No vineyard would touch me.’
Remembering the shock and helplessness he’d felt in the hours and days following Margot’s rejection, he bit down hard, using the pain of the past to block out her pale, stunned face.
‘Now it’s your turn.’
He leaned back against the leather upholstery, his eyes never leaving hers.
‘I only bought shares in your company to get a ringside seat.’
MARGOT SAT FROZEN, mute with shock, her heart lurching inside her chest like a ship at sea in a storm.
‘How dare you?’ Blood was drumming in her ears, and her body vibrated with anger and disbelief. ‘How dare you stand here in my boardroom and—?’
‘Easily.’
She watched in mute horror as Max stood up and, raising his arms above his head, stretched his shoulders and neck. His apparent serenity only exacerbated the anxiety that was hammering against her ribcage.
‘And I’ll find it easier still to stand in your office and watch the administrators repossess that beautiful custom-made Parnian desk of yours.’
He was walking towards her now, and suddenly her breath was coming thick and fast.
‘That won’t happen.’