Revenge With Benefits

Will she reap the benefits of betrayal...

with a man impossible to resist?

Reeling from a bad divorce, Zoe Alston makes a pact with two women similarly scorned. Her mission: take down gorgeous businessman Ryan Dailey by sabotaging his sister’s political campaign. The problem: the white-hot chemistry sizzling between them. Now she’s caught between her promise and the man who’s bringing her back to life. How far will she go for revenge...or love?

CAT SCHIELD has been reading and writing romance since high school. Although she graduated from college with a BA in business, her idea of a perfect career was writing books for Mills & Boon. And now, after winning the Romance Writers of America 2010 Golden Heart® Award for Best Contemporary Series Romance, that dream has come true. Cat lives in Minnesota with her daughter, Emily, and their Burmese cat. When she’s not writing sexy, romantic stories for Mills & Boon Desire, she can be found sailing with friends on the St. Croix River, or in more exotic locales, like the Caribbean and Europe. She loves to hear from readers. Find her at catschield.net and follow her on Twitter, @catschield.

Also by Cat Schield

At Odds with the Heiress

A Merger by Marriage

A Taste of Temptation

The Black Sheep’s Secret Child

Little Secret, Red Hot Scandal

The Heir Affair

Upstairs Downstairs Baby

Substitute Seduction

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk

Revenge with Benefits

Cat Schield

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-09209-8

REVENGE WITH BENEFITS

© 2019 Catherine Schield

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Version: 2020-03-02

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Epilogue

About the Publisher

Prologue

While the keynote speaker for the Beautiful Women Taking Charge event droned on, Everly Briggs contemplated Zoe Crosby and recognized the former Charleston, South Carolina trophy wife was the weak link in her plan.

Before the networking function Everly had researched the attendees and settled on two women recently wronged by the men in their lives. Over cocktails, Everly had chatted up both women, sharing her own tale of how her sister had been wronged by wealthy entrepreneur Ryan Dailey. In addition to Zoe Crosby, she’d encouraged London McCaffrey to pour out her heartbreak after Linc Thurston broke off their engagement.

“We’ve each been the victim of a wealthy, powerful man,” Everly said, thinking that was most true of Zoe. Her ex-husband had hired Charleston’s most ruthless divorce attorney and rumor had it that Zoe’s settlement was going to be eaten up by her lawyer’s fees. “Don’t you think it’s time we get a little payback?”

“Anything we try would only end up making things worse for us,” Zoe said, her hesitation grating on Everly’s nerves.

Up until this moment, Zoe Crosby had been listening and nodding sympathetically. Before meeting her, Everly figured if anyone would want to take down a powerful man it would be a wife who’d been cheated on by one, then cast aside and forced to defend her honor in divorce court.

Instead, Everly was starting to understand why Tristan Crosby had treated his wife with such disdain. The woman was too soft, too passive. She lacked fire and purpose. Well, Everly would just have to stir up the socialite’s indignation over how she’d been treated and drive Zoe into the revenge scheme.

“Not if we go after each other’s men,” Everly explained, gratified to see London McCaffrey nodding in understanding. Zoe still looked worried, so Everly continued to lay out her plan. “Think about it,” she said, fighting to keep impatience out of her voice. “We’re strangers at a cocktail party. Who would ever connect us? I go after Linc. London goes after Tristan and, Zoe, you go after Ryan.”

“When you say ‘go after,’” Zoe said cautiously, “what do you have in mind?”

Everly resisted the urge to roll her eyes. From the first she’d suspected Zoe would be too timid to make a good revenge partner, but at least the socialite could be manipulated into doing as Everly wanted.

“In Ryan’s case, his sister is running for state senate,” Everly said, deciding she’d better monitor Zoe’s part of the plan to make sure Ryan Dailey paid dearly for putting her sister in jail.

After all, he was responsible for breaking Kelly’s heart and driving her to act out against his firm by deleting millions of dollars worth of engineering drawings. If he hadn’t led her sister on, Everly was convinced Kelly never would’ve snapped like that.

Zoe’s frown deepened at Everly’s suggestion that she go after Ryan indirectly. “I thought we were supposed to be going after the men. I don’t feel comfortable.”

“Since Ryan destroyed my sister’s life,” Everly explained with elaborate patience even as her irritation reached a boiling point, “it only seems fair that we ruin his sister’s chances at being elected.” Her pause was too brief to give Zoe a chance to argue further. “Getting at Ryan through his sister is the best way to go. Okay?”

Zoe’s abbreviated nod didn’t fill Everly with confidence. Well, if the socialite couldn’t do what needed to be done, Everly would just have to take care of things herself.

One

Fingers biting into the armrest of the hair salon’s cheap vinyl chair, Zoe Crosby—Alston, she reminded herself yet again—stared at her reflection. As of today it was official. Forevermore she would check the divorced box on every survey form or application that asked her marital status. Even though for the last year she’d told herself it wasn’t her fault, the shame of failure sent heat rushing over her skin, leaving her feeling sweaty and miserable.

“Are you sure about this?” the stylist asked, her face screwed into doubtful lines. Penny raked her fingers through Zoe’s long, silky hair. “Your hair is so gorgeous. The caramel color with the paler blond streaks. Are you sure you don’t want me to take an inch off and call it good?”

Zoe set her jaw and shook her head. “No. I want you to shave it all off.”

The stylist looked even more pained, if that was possible. “It’s none of my business, and you are beautiful enough to wear your hair whatever length you want, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t talk you out of doing something that radical.”

Tristan had been very particular about her hair. He’d wanted it to end exactly at her nipples, deeming it the perfect length. She was not allowed to have bangs or layers. Just a silky, straight curtain with blunt ends. She hadn’t been allowed to curl it or to put it up when he’d been around. It was just one of the many ways he’d controlled her.

Zoe sighed, her courage deflating. She’d marched into the hair salon after deciding to shave her head as a middle finger salute to her ex. Tristan couldn’t control her anymore and that was empowering, but maybe getting rid of all her hair was a bit extreme. Still, she needed to do something to mark the day that she was utterly and joyfully free of Tristan Crosby. Her gaze swept the photos of women modeling various haircuts lining the walls, snagging on one in particular.

“What about that?” She pointed to a brunette sporting a short, spiky cut. “Only I’d like to go platinum blond.”

The stylist looked relieved. “With your bone structure, that look would be fantastic on you.”

“Do it.”

An hour and a half later Zoe regarded her reflection and didn’t recognize herself. Gone was the traditional wife of a successful Charleston businessman with her sweater sets and pretty floral dresses. In her place was an edgy replacement in a graphic T-shirt and torn black jeans. Zoe shivered as she raked her fingers through her new do.

Tristan would hate her dramatic transformation.

But then dismay flooded her. When would she stop running all her decisions through the filter of pleasing her ex-husband? All the more reason to make the change. She needed to think about what made her happy.

Plus, she had another reason for altering her appearance.

With step one of her transformation complete, Zoe exited the salon and popped into a drugstore to purchase lipstick and an eye shadow kit in smoky shades that Tristan Crosby’s ex-wife would never have been allowed to wear. In the parking lot, she sat in her car and applied the makeup.

Drawing confidence from her new look, Zoe put her car in gear and headed to the campaign headquarters for Susannah Dailey-Kirby’s state senate race. She intended to volunteer for the campaign, making herself indispensable and gathering as much dirt as she could to take down Ryan Dailey’s twin.

Everly had suggested the strategy to get back at him for Everly’s sister, Kelly.

At the time Zoe had been happy for the input. She’d had absolutely no idea how one went about seeking revenge. Her time married to Tristan had been all about surviving his psychological battery, leaving her little energy for schemes or the gumption to carry them out.

Yet that wasn’t completely true. As a safety net, she’d managed to siphon off tens of thousands of dollars from her allowance during her marriage. Having grown up not exactly poor but with a family that lived paycheck to paycheck, she’d liked the idea of financial independence that ready access to the secret stash offered her.

She should have realized Tristan would view any attempt at self-sufficiency as a threat to his power. When he’d found out, he’d reclaimed her stash and monitored her spending more closely. But instead of intimidating her, his actions had made her more determined, and less trusting of her so-called friends and allies.

The crushing loneliness of being married to Tristan was almost as bad as the emotional and psychological abuse he’d heaped on her. Maybe she shouldn’t have let Tristan convince her to quit college after her junior year. But she’d chosen to plan an elaborate wedding instead of finishing her degree. Floating down the aisle mere months before her twenty-first birthday, she’d actually believed the rest of her life would be like a fairy tale. And in some ways it had. Only she hadn’t been the lucky princess rescued by Prince Charming. Tristan had turned out to be more like the evil king who overtaxed the peasants and punished his subjects whenever the mood struck him.

She’d had no real friends, as was glaringly obvious in the wake of her separation from Tristan and subsequent divorce. No one had stepped up to support or to help her. She’d become a pariah in their tight social circles as Tristan had leaked false stories of her infidelity. No one had cared or believed her when she’d denied the allegations. It was one thing if a man strayed, but unseemly for a Southern woman.

Zoe came out of her reverie as she neared North Charleston. Susannah Dailey-Kirby’s campaign headquarters wasn’t far from the humane society where Zoe volunteered once a week, loving the time she got to spend with the animals. She’d grown up with dogs and cats, but Tristan had refused to allow her to have a pet.

After parking her car in the strip mall parking lot, Zoe strode along the sidewalk in the direction of the campaign’s storefront. For the last week or so she’d been sitting at the fast-food franchise across the street, contemplating the comings and goings of the staff and gathering courage to make her approach. In the weeks since she’d agreed to the revenge bargain, her enthusiasm for the project had waned.

But she’d made a promise and staying true to her commitments was an intrinsic element of her personality she couldn’t just set aside. She couldn’t help it, even when that trait had kept her in a bad marriage past all self-preservation. She’d meant it when she’d stood before family and friends and pledged to love, honor and cherish Tristan until death. That he’d done everything to destroy her good intentions hadn’t lessened her dedication to her vows. No doubt she’d still be married and miserable if he hadn’t decided to cast her aside.

Some days it was hard for her to distinguish whether the brunt of her anger over the failure of her marriage was directed at Tristan or herself. The rational part of her mind blamed Tristan’s unreasonable expectations, but her emotions turned the fault on her shortcomings.

Approaching the campaign headquarters, Zoe took a deep breath and held it while she pushed all doubts and worries out of her mind. She needed to focus on the task at hand or everything would be lost.

She’d decided to keep her backstory vague, because she didn’t want to talk about her ex-husband or the messy divorce he’d put her through. She was restarting her life as Zoe Alston and that opened up a whole range of possibilities. But first she had to see her commitment through.

Gathering a deep breath for courage, Zoe pushed through the front door, expecting the campaign office to be buzzing despite the election being a year off. But the space she entered was static and tense, as if she’d burst onto the scene of a tragedy.

A tiny bell had rung as she’d entered, but no one had noticed. The same chime sounded now as the door swung shut behind her. The campaign staff remained focused on a large TV. Feeling like an intruder, she advanced two steps into the room and then hesitated, unsure if she should continue or retreat. She’d obviously stumbled into something dire.

Four people stood in a semicircle surrounding a tall, slender man with thick, neatly combed gray hair. Phones rang at several desks but no one paid them any heed. In fact, the staffers’ only reaction was to dial the TV volume up.

Zoe shifted her focus from the campaign workers to the news footage that held their attention. It took her a couple of seconds to realize that someone new had entered the race and apparently this was very bad indeed. Realizing this was not a good time for her to approach the campaign team about volunteering, she started to pivot back the way she’d come and promptly collided with someone.

Like the campaign staff, she’d been so focused on the television coverage she hadn’t noticed the tinkling bell. Now, however, as her nose took a hit from the man’s cologne, her senses went on full alert. She was still reeling from the masculine scent of him as her right shoulder impacted with his rock-solid chest. It was like hitting a wall. Zoe bounced off him like a kitten off a mastiff.

She stumbled and might’ve fallen had he not caught her by the arm. His fingers were strong. His grip firm and steadying. It sent her heart sprinting as he guided her back the way she’d come. Her brain struggled to catch up with the to-and-fro movements of her body and decode the electric jolt she felt when he’d first touched her.

Her gaze collided with pale gray eyes of incredible intensity. For a moment she was utterly mesmerized. And then recognition flared. She gulped in panic.

Ryan Dailey.

Less than thirty seconds had passed since she’d initiated her part of the revenge plot and already she’d bumped into her target. And what an unexpected encounter it was shaping up to be.

The man’s sharp jawline, hawkish gaze, impossibly wide shoulders and sensual grin packed a solid wallop. Tingles raced across her nerve endings as heat built beneath her skin. It raced past her throat and exploded in her cheeks.

“You okay?” Ryan Dailey asked, his deep, rich voice rumbling against her eardrums and awakening queer flutters in her stomach.

“Yeah.” It was all she could manage.

“I’m Ryan Dailey,” he said, letting his focus flow over her white-blond spikes, dark plum lips and edgy bohemian outfit. “Susannah’s brother.”

While he checked her out, she took in his custom navy suit, white shirt and pale blue tie. Even with the four-inch heels on her ankle boots making her about five-nine, the man towered over her. Yet despite his imposing stature, she didn’t experience the bitter taste of anxiety her ex-husband had often awakened.

But that didn’t mean she felt calm.

“I’m Zoe...” Her mind froze before she could add her last name. For eight years she’d gone by Zoe Crosby. Those days were done.

“Nice to meet you, Zoe,” Ryan said, smoothly filling in the awkward gap. The way his gray eyes sharpened with interest, he seemed to mean it.

“Nice to meet you, too.” She couldn’t seem to peel her gaze free, but had enough presence of mind to lift her elbow and alert him that she no longer needed his continued support.

His steely fingers relaxed and slid away, but her skin prickled beneath her black leather jacket as she continued to react to the pressure of his touch.

“You’re new to Susannah’s campaign,” he remarked.

“What makes you say that?”

“If you’d been around before, I would’ve noticed you.”

His comment reawakened those anxious flutters in her stomach. The interest in his eyes was a little too keen, so Zoe settled deeper into playing her role of eager volunteer with nothing to hide.

“I’m really interested in volunteering for the campaign, but it seems like today might not be the best day to be here.” She indicated the cluster of staff and then glanced toward the front door. “They seem really busy. Maybe I’ll come back another time.”

“Don’t go.” His cajoling smile sent a lance of delight through her. “Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

Zoe found herself smiling in return. “How about I wait right here and if they have time, you wave me over.”

Offering her a brief nod, he moved past her.

Zoe stared after him, appalled and thrilled in turns.

That was Ryan Dailey?

Despite her promise to stay, she slipped out the front door, sucking in a huge breath of air as she escaped the charged atmosphere. No wonder Everly had suggested Zoe focus on the sister. Taking down such a formidable man would’ve been beyond Zoe’s abilities even if she hadn’t been brought low by her ex-husband’s cold-blooded machinations.

Yet, Ryan Dailey wasn’t Tristan. He didn’t seem the sort who took pleasure in being ruthless. That didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous, especially given what had happened to Everly’s sister, but Zoe didn’t sense she was in peril.

At least not yet.

* * *

Interesting, Ryan mused. Bumping into her had stirred something that had been missing from his life for a long time. Lust. When was the last time he’d noticed a woman and wanted to put his mark on her? To take her to bed and satisfy a basic physical need, indulge in a whole host of dirty fantasies?

The chemistry between them had shivered across his nerve endings and rattled his bones. As he headed to the back of the office, he continued to be aware of her presence. He rubbed his chest where her shoulder had struck him. The spot seemed to buzz in the aftermath of the contact. In fact, the collision had started a chain reaction through his body.

But the uptick in Ryan’s mood faded fast as he approached the campaign staffers huddled in front of the TV. The news segment on Lyle Abernathy entering the state senate race was over, but the strategizing about how to handle things was just getting started.

Ryan joined the group, noting Gil Moore’s grim expression. “Hi, Gil.”

“Hey, Ryan. I take it you heard.”

“About Abernathy? Yeah.”

“It’s going to be bad,” the campaign manager said.

“How’s Susannah doing?”

“You know her motto. Never let them see you sweat.”

Ryan acknowledged Gil’s words with a nod. “Someone is here to volunteer. Her name is...” Ryan turned to where he’d left Zoe standing only to discover she’d gone. “Damn it.”

He couldn’t believe he was panicking. It spoke to the strong effect she had on him. Now that she’d bolted, he couldn’t bear the thought that he’d never see her again.

“Looks like she took off.”

“She didn’t think her timing was right.”

“Hopefully we haven’t scared her off for good,” Gil said. “Did you get a name?”

“Zoe.” It wasn’t much. Definitely not enough to track her down. “If she comes back, can you let me know? She has really short blond hair and a black leather jacket. Sort of a bohemian style.”

Gil nodded. “We’ll keep a lookout.”

“Thanks.” Ryan was grateful the campaign manager didn’t ask any more questions. “I’d better go find out how Susannah’s doing.”

He headed towards his twin sister’s office near the back of the building. On entering, he found her seated at her desk, staring at her computer. Her long black hair lay in a sleek curtain against her royal blue suit. Her beautiful face was relaxed; she looked not the least bit flustered that her campaign had just gotten that much harder.