A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,82

you off to in such a rush?” she snapped.

“We’re not married anymore, Melinda. That’s frankly none of your business.”

“A woman, then. One of your usual bimbos?” she sneered.

Like he planned to share the intimate details of his love life with her? He clenched his jaw against the angry retort struggling to escape his mouth and turned to leave.

Behind him, she commented snidely, “Face it, Gabe, you’re never going to find happiness with a woman. You never have quite been able to give them what they really need.”

He paused. Looked back over his shoulder. Smiled. “Thank you for that note of derision. It was exactly what I needed from you.” He nodded pleasantly. He had indeed meant the comment sincerely. She was making it easy for him to cut whatever remaining emotional ties lingered between them. And it felt good. Really good.

Melinda’s ability to snare people in her web and hold them there was truly extraordinary. She was a master at manipulating people, and had just demonstrated her uncanny ability to put her finger on people’s Achilles’ heels and exploit them to her own advantage. He would be forever grateful to Willa for proving Melinda wrong. It felt like a ten-ton weight had lifted off his chest now that he no longer believed the crap his ex-wife spouted at him about his inadequacies with relationships. He was finally free of her web.

More power to Melinda and her head games. She may have survived a horrific ordeal, but he was done with her.

* * *

The bitch was alive? Not possible! Her car went off the cliff!

Noooooo! The scream echoed off the vehicle’s interior. Fists pounded the steering wheel until blood came. Crimson. Mesmerizing. Beautiful. It should have been her blood. Willa Merris’s blood. It would be her blood soon. Very soon. Speculative eyes studied the security guard lounging against the stucco wall of the hospital. A hundred to one that one of the windows above the guy was her room.

There were ways to get around security guards, though. A giggle escaped at how easy it really was to fool them. The giggle turned into laughter and the laughter to hysteria. Oh, yes. Little Willa would pay for surviving, most of all.

* * *

Gabe tossed and turned most of the night, fretting over Willa. It was enlightening how his worried thoughts never once turned to his ex-wife. No question about it. He was slam-dunk, plumb-tuckered in love with Willa Merris. A goner. And nothing had ever felt half this great in his entire life.

Melinda would no doubt accuse him of having a midlife crisis. Part of him replied that if she was right, bring it on. But most of him knew without a doubt the accusation would not be true. His emotional growth had frozen in his late twenties when he’d gotten tangled up with Melinda. Willa had set him free and got him moving forward again. Finally.

When light finally began to show dully around the curtains, he threw on jogging clothes and went for a run to work off some of the residual stress of nearly losing Willa last night. It was a cloudy, threatening morning with heavy gray clouds scudding low across the sky. He’d gone several brisk miles and circled back to his house when he spotted the white news van parked in front of it. Paula Craddock got out as he approached.

“Don’t you ever give up?” he asked her.

“Never. I always get my story.”

“What story are you after this time?”

“What’s going on between you and Willa Merris?”

“I thought you were a hard news reporter. Isn’t that a little too gossip-column for you? What happened? Did you get demoted to the society page?”

“Avoiding the question, are we? Then am I to assume you two are having an affair?”

“I believe one of the parties in a relationship has to be married for it to qualify as an affair, Ms. Craddock.”

“I’m going to report that you two are an item,” she threatened.

He shrugged. “You can report whatever you want. Just remember my attorneys will hold you to the strictest interpretation of what constitutes slander or libel.”

He’d had enough of her, and jogged up his sidewalk to his front door. She called after him, “I always get my story, Gabe. You can’t stop me.”

Whatever. He slammed the door on her threats and took a quick shower. He grabbed a bagel on his way out the door and was relieved that the news van had disappeared by the time he pulled out of his