Time for Revenge

Chapter 1

Chauffeur Ryan Cross looked in his rear-view mirror at the haggard face of the 33-year-old in the back seat.

She'd just emerged from the high-powered divorce settlement scrap between the legal team representing her and the other representing Ryan's employer, her arrogant husband.

Juno Rich, looking shell-shocked and, as yet unannounced by the media, had been heavily enriched to the tune of almost $9 million. Rather than looking victorious, she looked defeated.

"Juno, I think..."

"Ryan, how dare you. I remain Mrs Rich to you. Be aware of your position otherwise you're fired."

The shaggy brown-haired driver was undeterred.

"Stupid you are not, Juno and therefore don't spurn the guy capable of leading you back to normality. You need a crutch and I'm your best chance."

"That is preposterous. I have my friends, many of them."

"Raymond's friends you mean. Do you expect them to be disloyal to him and support you at his expense?"

Juno's brief bout of aggression subsided and she stuffed a lace-fringed handkerchief across her lips, her shoulders slumping.

She looked pathetic.

Finally, she capitulated, "What do you suggest?"

"Place yourself in my hands for one week and follow my instructions unless you find them reprehensible."

"That's absurd."

"That's one way of looking at it," Ryan said grimly. "Get yourself a shrink. I'm driving you home and then that's it. I quit and will move out this afternoon."

That was greeted in silence.

Ryan looked in the mirror and saw the handkerchief was again stuffed across her lips. He sighed thinking some women appeared to consider it acceptable to wallow in despair.

The recently retired foreign mercenary was surprised his choice had back-fired: Raymond Rich had offered to keep him on and had said facetiously, "Or perhaps you prefer driving Juno? She'll come out of this cashed up sufficiently to continue the limo way of life; I've seen the way you look at her."

Ryan had said demurely, "Men, including chauffeurs, find glancing at beautiful women irresistible."

Raymond, a little over twenty years older than his wife, chuckled and said, "Then you stay on with her. She mightn't take you to her bed but at least I'll feel more comfortable with her being under your protection; she'll be without friends now. I'll take you back if it doesn't work out because chauffeurs who also are top-rated bodyguards are as scarce as hair on a gigolo's chest."

They laughed and the publisher smirked at acknowledgment of his humour.

When Raymond moved out and Ryan stayed, Juno didn't comment until she came through the kitchen that first evening without her husband and saw Ryan having his meal. Only when she called him to drive her somewhere did he enquire, "Am I now in your employ?"

"Yes."

"Okay, that suits me."

"Continue to call me Mrs Rich until the divorce comes through. I trust you will keep freeloaders and beggars out of my life?"

"As you wish."

She said sternly, "As you wish Mrs Rich."

"As you wish, I said. If that doesn't suit fire me."

"Keep your hat on Ryan," she said, obviously already out of her brief state of depression. "I was simply expressing a personal preference, that's all."

"Very well Mrs Rich."

He'd caught her grin in the rear mirror.

As the white limo swept up the wide driveway to the hilltop mansion overlooking Sydney Harbour, that day's negotiations between husband and wife had unexpectedly finalised with agreement on settlement on the split of declared marital assets.

Juno, breaking the lengthy silence, said, "All right,"

"All right what?"

"I'll do what you want as it's the only offer I have. Let's start our expanded association from 8:00 in the morning."

"It starts now. Pack one bag of beach resort clothing and bring your make-up box. That's all, we leave in fifteen minutes."

"I have tickets for the ballet tonight and..."

"Fifteen minutes and we're out of here."

"Very well. Where are we off to?"

"I don't know yet."

"Christ," she groaned.

As Juno disappeared into the house, Ryan made a call.

"Yes Ryan?" his Aunt Helen answered. "Be brief; I'm at a luncheon."

"May I have the beach house for the next five days?"

She said of course, adding he knew where they kept the key and she expected to find the place as tidy as she'd left it. Helen then cut the call.

Ryan went to the kitchen and briefed the cook/housekeeper and the gardener that he and Mrs Rich would be away for a week; they had his cell phone number and they were to keep the property secure.

"I don't take orders from you," Mrs Pope said, eyeing him firmly.

"Mrs Rich may or may not brief you. If she doesn't, you have your instructions," Ryan said moving out to his stand-alone accommodation to pack. He wished it would be a dirty week of boozing and lust but suspected it would be rather like dealing with a stroppy teenager showing signs of self-destruct.

He returned to the limo expecting to wait for half an hour or so but was surprised to see Juno's two bags behind the vehicle and she was already seated.

"Did you brief Mrs Pope?"

"Yes."

"Good boy. Where're we going?"

"To the river mouth, my aunt's beach house."

"Oh, I only brought good clothes with me, but that will do."

They drove up to the beach house and parked. The garage was not long enough for the limo.

Juno said, "Omigod, just look at this place. I'd imaged it would be more like a shack. Just who is your aunt?"

"Helen Cross."

"Omigod, you mean the famous surgeon?"

"Yeah, my mother's married sister."

"Then who is your father? Raymond interviewed you for this position, not me."

"I prefer not to identify him. He's big in business but never financially helped my mother to raise me and when she died suddenly, he never came hunting for me to take me under his care. I've not spoken to him since the day he abandoned mum and me eight months before her death."

"Omigod, what a soulless man.

"My father is an asshole; his good nature was destroyed by my mother's infidelity and so she was partly to blame for the split in our family. Aunt Helen became my legal guardian and I agreed to change my surname to Cross to avoid embarrassing questions at school why was my surname different to my adopted parents.

"Then after you graduated from college you entered the Army, was promoted into the Special Services Force and on leaving the army with rank of Lieutenant Colonel, according to what my husband told me, you became a military adviser for hire to any country recruiting experts for covert operations."

"Something like that; I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Ooh," Juno giggled. "I'll have to get you drunk for you to spill the beans."

"Oh yeah, and if that leaked back to certain people I'd mysteriously go missing."

"What do you mean?"

Juno saw Ryan's eyes.

"That's cannot be Ryan, this is the 21st Century."

"I'll show you to your suite."

They had a quick tour and Ryan led Juno into the master bedroom. It was almost up to the standard of her own bedroom.

"You have this, I'm only the chauffeur."

He walked away saying lunch in fifteen minutes.

A couple of hours after lunch, Juno arrived at the pool in a yellow bikini that looked good against her olive skin (her mother was Greek). She had a great body but it was Ryan's body that received all the attention when he rose to greet her. He was in beautiful condition, muscle and sinews showed neatly assembled rather than being overdone from too much time at the gym.

But what really caught Juno's eye was a single thick red scar over his left shoulder and another scar over his right rib cage.

"Those scars," she whispered.

He grinned and said work-related incidents.

"How."

"A piece of shrapnel tore over my shoulder and I took a bullet initially aimed at my heart to scrape my ribs because my thrown knife reached the throat of the guy with the handgun just as he fired."

Juno blanched and he led her to a deck chair saying she was in danger of falling out of her top.

"Would that be any interest to you?"

"Wine?" he asked. "A very dry white," leaving her in no doubt that was the only comment forthcoming.

Ryan was on his thirtieth length of the pool when Juno finished her second glass of wine and yawned.

It was dusk when she felt herself being shaken awake.

"The first stage of your therapy is complete," he smiled.

"Therapy?"

"Yes, taking you away to another environment to have you relax and stop thinking about 'it', is part of the plan."

"By 'it' you mean the divorce?"

"Exactly, but let's not mention that or him while we are here, okay?"

"Agreed, so what now: seduction?"

He remained straight-faced.

"The word I used was therapy. I just want you to wind down which might only take two or three days and then we'll discuss our possible future."

"Our future?"

"Yes, I'm thinking of putting you back into business. You were never meant to be a lady."

Juno giggled and said, "Thank you very much!"

"Relax and don't think about my comment of you going back into business until you feel ready for serious discussion. You'll know that time has come for that discussion when you really want me to call you Juno. Do nothing to hasten to that point; just allow it to envelop you."

"Yes master."

"Good and now just relax. Read in the library. I'll be in the gym for half an hour and then will make dinner. You are on meals tomorrow."

* * *

On the third day at the beach, they had crossed the sand bar at the river mouth in calm seas in the Cross' runabout.

Juno, who'd never previously been fishing, almost fell out of the small boat in excitement when she hooked a fish and her rod tip arched towards the water.

Ten minutes later, under Ryan's encouragement and guidance, they boated a black bream of about 3 kg. She was so excited until Ryan handed her a knife and told her to cut it across the bottom of the gills to bleed it into the fish box.

"No."

"Don't be a baby."

"All right, tell me what to do."

She made the cut, grimacing. Ryan had already clubbed the fish to death.

"Now gut it and pull out its entrails and let them fall into the sea."

"Ugh!"

"Go on, a fisher is responsible for his or her catch."

"You're a real swine, Ryan."

"I know," he grinned.

He finished by cutting off the head but making her toss it into the water. A large and darkish shape appeared from under the boat and came up and took the morsel that by then was at least 7 to 8 metres below the surface.

"Oh God, what's that?" Juno yelled, grabbing on to Ryan.

"It's just a big fish on clean-up duty," he laughed, pushing her away. "Come on, we'll go back in now. We have enough off your catch for several meals."

Juno washed herself and then said, "That was a shark, wasn't it?"

Ryan just grinned. She splashed water at him from the bucketful he'd hauled out of the sea for her to sluice the rear of the boat clean.

He grinned.

She smiled slyly, "Call me Juno from now on. Does that mean we have sex?"

"Let's consider that as a climax to our stay on Friday night. There is no need to rush into it."

"May I stand alongside you and hug you."

"I suppose so."

"God, you play hard to get," Juno said, snuggling into him at the wheel." I've become so lonely."

"I know. We are now in the transition period of you shaking off you past and that includes your social past. Got it?"

"Yes, but if I run across friends made in my time with Raymond, there's no need to shun them, is there?"

"Of course not, but I suggest you don't accept any invitations from them nor contact any of those people. In my opinion, you need to make a total cut and manage your new life with or without me. I intend sticking around until you're on a roll. We'll begin talking about that over sundowner drinks this evening."

"Right, then I'm going to reward you with a really big salary rise."

Ryan convinced Juno to shelve that consideration until they had completed the next phase of her rehabilitation of living life without her outgoing husband.

* * *

On mid-morning Saturday, Ryan drove Juno home.

She was sitting in the front of the limo with him and she now possessed a business plan that excited her beyond belief. During the night, Ryan entered her bedroom and they had sex that had left them both near-exhausted.

When she awoke at dawn, she'd found he'd left her bed and she groaned in disappointment.

Juno felt like yelling to him to return but decided against that; he was managing her very well. She no longer felt depressed and useless. The chains had been severed.

The car would be returned to the leasing company on Monday, the current lease term was almost up and so there should not be any penalty to pay. Ryan was authorized to negotiate a down-sized and less eye-catching vehicle on lease to Juno until her company was formed when the lease would be transferred to the company.

The mansion was already on the market for sale and Juno would receive half of the net proceeds and the other half would go to her husband. Thanks to Ryan, everything was falling into place and she was ready to soar but knowing it would take time to establish: they would be launching into publishing.

Approval to register her company as Juno Publications Limited was in the hands of her lawyer.

The proposed category would be 'Hot romances; nothing depraved'.

Although Ryan said their project would put them in competition with Raymond Rich Publications Limited, Juno saw his eyes narrow when he made that comment. She believed that after Raymond dumped her, Ryan considered her husband was a skunk.

Juno and Ryan had looked at several options of her starting up in business and after 15 intensive hours over two days, they found themselves virtually back at square one and agreed her best bet was to return to publishing.

She'd been senior editor of fiction for Raymond Rich Publications when Raymond divorced his second wife after having commenced an affair with Juno. Eventually they were married and she was appointed editor-in-chief of all divisions.

"It's logical that you enter book publishing," Ryan had yawned. "You have a MA in English literature, have had two novels published and eight years working up the ladder in the fiction department of a large publishing company."

"Your ex cannot construe this as an act of vengeance for him taking up with his current fiction senior editor, as clearly in comparative size, your start-up company would be like a herring aligning with a shark."

"Agreed," Juno sighed. "Who can argue against that logic? When are we to have sex again?"

Ryan yawned. "There's no hurry is there?"

"No," Juno shrugged, appearing to be lying.

"Then perhaps the next round could be when you receive notification that your company has been registered under the name you submitted for approval."

"I doubt that I can wait that long."

"Then go find someone else."

Juno called him 'a mean bastard' and turned silent for a while.

Finally, she said, "I'd like us to live together until my confidence and self-belief are back fully."

"Okay, then let's do that as soon as your mansion sells. I have a rather lovely apartment because I didn't come back from overseas service anywhere near penniless. You can have the guest room if you are still awaiting notification of company registration."

"Oh, fuck me," Juno wailed in despair. "I want sex with you every day."

"That possibly could happen, eventually," Ryan said dryly.

They both broke into laughter, knowing the ground rules were set.

* * *

Juno was fascinated by the emerging depth of character, knowledge and leadership skills of her chauffeur Ryan Rogan Cross, and clearly, he was her trusted confidant following the collapse of her marriage.

Eighteen months of being chauffeured by this man Ryan while her husband was at work, had driven Juno almost to distraction when gazing at his long fingers on the steering wheel and his neatly squared-off hair at the nape of his noticeably straight back. He was so secretive, so frugal in speech and so dissociated from her that at times that she'd become almost frustrated beyond belief. But thankfully they now acted like friends and at last had engaged in sex that had calmed her state of mind almost beyond belief.

She knew her husband had used a little-known recruitment firm to find this so-called 'especially equipped' chauffeur after Raymond was attacked and savagely beaten while about to enter his car in the so-called secured basement car lot under his office building.

Then on another evening when Raymond was driving her home after a celebrity dinner for best-selling authors, their car had been almost run off the road. The SUV that had pushed them almost into a street pole accelerated past them but then swung in front of their vehicle and stopped. Two men emerged from that aggressively-driven vehicle carrying baseball bats.

Juno recalled that terrible moment. She was screaming while Raymond was muttering oaths.

Just as the threatening men began separating, moving to each side of the car, Raymond rammed his foot down on the accelerator pedal and sent the two villains scramble sideways and they were bumped off the car without denting front panels. No report of the incident was reported in next morning's newspapers about the incident, suggesting that the two had not being seriously injured and had no wish to make themselves known to the police.

Two weeks later she was introduced to Ryan Cross and Raymond told her, "You can trust Ryan with your life."

Well, right now she was trusting Ryan with a sizeable chunk of her fortune, still being assembled, and had even allowed him to penetrate her body, just the once so far, but that was his choice, not hers.

His degree was in business management and it did not surprise her that his input into the concept of a business initiative suitable for her was superior to hers. Well, he'd had all that Army training and his undercover missions overseas to sharpen his mind. But he even was all over her when it came to writing a draft business plan but at least he had the grace to say he hadn't a clue about book publishing, and in fact said that several times, bless him.

What worried Juno was why had such a guy with obvious business talent not entered business management when retiring from his mercenary and probably illegal activities in countries overseas, instead choosing to be a muscle-man driver and minder for her husband, albeit as a rather fat salary.

Then, an even greater unanswered question: why had Ryan chosen to switch across to her rather than stay with 'the boss'? It made a nonsense of why he'd been hired by Raymond as a minder. Also, she was confusing about why had Ryan chosen not to pound her at will once he'd been taken aboard, so to speak? He certainly was a manly man and she could vouch for that. Oh yes!

Juno decided she needed Ryan right now. He undoubtedly was pulling her back from the brink, revving her up to seize life again for reasons best known to himself. She'd dump him as soon as she could: his possible sinister intrusion into her life unnerved her a little.

Three weeks later, a chance disclosure unravelled the mystery for her.

She and Ryan were having a drink during intermission at the opera when he mentioned his mother had worked as a publicist for the rebuilt Opera House from just prior to it's re-opening. On the way, out he showed her his mother's name on the plaque in the main foyer, listing the board of the company, architects, builders and senior executives of the opera company at the time of the opening and the board chairman was named as Adair Rich.

"Mum left us shortly after the opening of the Opera House," he'd said sadly. "I was fourteen and no longer emotionally in need of a mother, but it was tough on my two younger siblings. The shock, public humiliation and large gap left in my father's life hardened and soured him, permanently."