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Subtle Revenge
Carole Mortimer
MILLS & BOON
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
LORI fought against the darkness, knowing what it would bring, knowing she couldn’t face the nightmare again tonight. But it came anyway, bringing with it the desolation and loss she had never been able to accept.
The blackness cleared, giving way to a hazy greyness, as she saw her father’s anguished face, her mother’s grief, and finally Nigel’s contempt.
‘You should have told me,’ he accused, his handsome face flushed.
Then came her own voice, crying out to him, pleading with him not to condemn her for the past.
He looked at her with cold blue eyes, his suit superbly tailored, his blond hair neatly styled. ‘You know I can’t marry you now.’
‘No!’ This time she cried out in earnest, thrashing about in the bed as she tried to reach the man in her dream, the man she loved. ‘Nigel, I love you,’ she begged. ‘Don’t leave me. Everyone has left me, my father, my mother—you can’t leave me too!’
‘Watch me,’ he said in a chilling voice. ‘Watch me walk out of the door and never look back. And next time you aim for respectability make sure you tell the man involved the truth about yourself. Because if you don’t, I will.’
‘No! Nigel, please,’ she clutched on to his arm, feeling him flinch with the disgust with which he now held her, shaking her off. ‘Nigel, you love me!’
‘I loved Lori Parker, not Lorraine Chisholm. I could never love Lorraine Chisholm. Never!’ he added vehemently.
She fell at his feet, sobbing, clutching at his legs as he tried to walk away. ‘Nigel, don’t go!’ she sobbed.
‘I have to.’ He shook her off as if she were no more than a wearisome dog. ‘No decent man in his right mind would want to have you as his wife.’
No decent man, no decent man … As his wife, as his wife …
‘Lori, wake up!’ Someone was shaking her shoulder. ‘Lori, open your eyes. You’re having a bad dream. Lori!’ Again the shake on the shoulder, harder this time.
She forced herself through the realms of sleep, opening her eyes with effort, the greyness fading to give way to bright sunshine, the concerned face of her flatmate, Sally, gazing down at her worriedly.
‘Are you all right?’ Sally frowned. ‘You were screaming so loud I thought someone was attacking you!’
Lori raised herself up on her elbows, pushing the red-gold hair back from her face, blinking long lashes over shadowed brown eyes. ‘I should be so lucky,’ she said ruefully. ‘Just a nightmare.’
Sally moved back with a shrug, sitting on the single bed across from Lori’s. ‘It sounded real enough to me.’
‘Nightmares always do,’ Lori threw back the covers and swung her long legs to the floor. ‘They always seem very real too, that’s why they’re so frightening.’
Sally stood up, a small, slightly plump girl with straight blonde hair down to her shoulders. ‘This one sounded a real horror story,’ she grimaced.
‘It was.’ Lori stretched with feigned nonchalance. ‘But I’ve forgotten what it was about now,’ she lied, knowing that particular horror would never leave her.
‘You have?’ Sally seemed doubtful too.
‘Mm.’ Lori stood up, padding over to the dressing-table to take her clean underwear from the top drawer. She was a tall girl, five feet eight inches in her bare feet, and the masculine pyjamas made her look slimmer than ever, and if it weren’t for the rich cloud of red-gold hair that framed her beautiful face she could almost have looked boyish. Without her make-up she looked younger than her twenty-four years, her lashes naturally long and dark, her eyes a deep rich brown, her nose small and straight, her mouth a perfect bow, although she smiled little. She was aware of the fact that men were attracted to her combination of fiery appearance and icy manner, although very few of them ever got further than the first date.
‘Then you won’t remember who Nigel is?’ Sally queried softly.
‘Nigel?’ She froze, then quickly regained her composure, concentrating deeply on finding the green bikini briefs that matched the bra she had already found. ‘Nigel who?’ she mumbled.
‘I was hoping you could tell me that.’ Her friend and flatmate eyed her curiously. ‘You kept calling out his name in your sleep.’
‘But
