Love Thy Nemesis

By LM Tate

Independent, feisty, shop owner Rachel Edwards has officially sworn off men, and having spent the past year building up her life following trauma from her past relationship, she is strictly on a dating hiatus.

Living in a beautiful home in a new town, Rachel is finally piecing her life back together and has no room for distractions. Focused on carving her place in the antiques business, she's determined not to let her new Scottish neighbour, the arrogant Liam McKenzie, disrupt her plans.

On first sight they despite each other, and her neighbour warns her off his property but when Rachel's dangerous ex-fiancé returns, Liam is the only one she can turn to. As much as she loathes it, her nemesis may be her only saviour. Forced to accept an offer to move into his house, will her impenetrable walls survive the inferno between them.

• Language: English
• Publisher: LM Tate
• Release date: Jan 21, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215445419

LM Tate

I'm a book addict who lives and breathes romance. I have just released my third book Love Thy Nemesis. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for checking out my page.

Book preview

LOVE THY NEMESIS

L. M. TATE

Contents

Title page

Copyright

Acknowledgement

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Other books by L.M. Tate

Copyright © 2023 L. M. Tate

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Characters, places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author.

Acknowledgement

Thank you as ever to my husband for helping me achieve my dream, believing in me and keeping me going. I would also like to say a huge thank you everyone who took the time to read my previous books and for joining me on this incredible journey.

Chapter 1

I was finally comfortable with saying I loved my life. For the past year I’d spent a lot of time re-building my world, and my heart while I was at it. As I stood in the bedroom of my beautiful house which I’d spent the past twelve months renovating, I realised how lucky I was. Having come out of the other side of a toxic relationship, I was a much stronger person. My personal walls were as impenetrable as the ones inside my home, and while both had taken a lot of restoring, the effort had been worth every last bit of sweat. Looking at my reflection in the antique mirror above my dressing table, my green eyes peered back at me with hope and excitement. The fire in them that was almost extinguished the year before had returned and it was amazing how time could heal. Even my wavy red hair seemed bouncier and more vibrant. My inner Jessica Rabbit was back and nobody was ever taking her away again. I covered my lips in shiny red gloss and gave an air kiss to the mirror. Why not? I lived alone and could do what I wanted. In fact, I could run around my house naked and nobody would know. There was only one house next to mine on the idyllic tree-lined street where I lived and that was currently unoccupied, so I could actually dance around the garden wearing absolutely nothing and not one person would see me. That was what I loved about living there. The peaceful solitude. That and the fact that my house dated back to the Victorian era. As a lover of history and seller of rare antiques, it was just a delight to my sensibilities.

You, Rachel Edwards, are a strong, independent and talented woman with a lot to be proud of, I said to my reflection as I pulled my shoulders back. It was my morning mantra. Although I had started speaking the words to myself when I bought the house just over a year ago, they were finally feeling true. I closed my eyes and channeled my inner vixen, a bit of Samantha from Sex and the City, only minus the trail of men of course. Relationships were off the menu for me. I was working on myself, my antiques business and my beautiful house. They were my priorities right now. Taking a deep breath, I opened my eyes again. I could even bring myself to glance down at the scar that was just visible under my left ear. It was just a war wound to me now and a reminder that I was a survivor.

I also knew how lucky I was. After opening a small antiques shop called Treasure it Always six months ago, I already knew it was exactly what I was meant to be doing with my life. In fact, today was a very important day. I had sourced a sought-after artefact for a client and if the negotiations went well, it would be a huge boost to the finances of my business. As I pulled up outside the shop in my classic green 1961 Riley car, my employee and good friend Andrea Spencer was already pulling up the shutters. Andrea was my only staff member and was just as fanatical about antiques as I was. Since coming to work for me five months ago, she’d quickly become a close friend and a real asset to the shop. Luckily for me, after having a child to her long-term husband Raymond, she had decided she wanted to take a step back from her corporate job and work part-time. Also, even luckier for me, she had a real eye for antiques.

Morning. So what time is Mr Gregory getting here? Andrea asked me excitedly as I helped her with the last shutter.

Eleven o’clock, I replied with a tense smile and fought back the nerves.

I’d taken a risk in procuring the sculpture Mr Gregory had requested and I just hoped it paid off. Mr Gregory was a shrewd man in his early seventies who enjoyed luxury. Although I wasn’t sure exactly what Mr Gregory had done to earn his money in his younger years, I hear that he mixed in nefarious circles. He wanted the artefact and it was worth a lot of money so I was fairly reassured that he wouldn’t back out. I wasn’t greedy but I needed to hold my nerve to make sure I got the price it was worth. It was my first big sale and would keep the business going for a good while.

In that dress, I bet you could get him to sell his soul, Andrea commented cheekily as we walked into the shop.

Ew, don’t even go there. He’s older than my dad, I replied, feeling a little queasy.

Doesn’t matter. The parts still function. In fact I heard… I held my hand up and cut her off before she could continue.

No. Don’t want to know. I have zero interest in what happens with men’s bodies.

You know you can’t avoid nature forever, Andrea sing-songed.

Are we still talking about Mr Gregory? If so, yes I can avoid it. The conversation is making me feel a bit ill.

Andrea sighed. I’m talking about nature in general, as in men. I know you’re anti-men but you can’t deny they exist.

As one of the lucky women who had found a loyal and loving partner with her husband Raymond, Andrea had rose-tinted glasses when it came to men. My experience had taught me a different lesson. I hadn’t shared my history with her but she knew it was a touchy subject for me. It still didn’t stop her pushing me on it.

I’m not anti-men. For other women, they are fine. Your Raymond is one in a million. My dad is also one in a million. They’re the only two good ones out there that I know of, I replied with conviction.

She shook her head at me. That’s because you’re not willing to get to know anyone new. You just wait. Someone will come along and rock your world Rachel. It will happen. This big wall you’ve built will come crumbling down. It was strange that she mentioned my wall when I had been thinking about the very same thing that morning.

That’s ridiculous. My wall is shiny, solid steel. Nobody can climb up it. If they try, they’ll slip and fall flat on their face.

Andrea looked at me and burst out laughing. You’re so weird. Shiny steel wall? We’ll see, she said doubtfully. Even though she was my employee, Andrea was forthright with her opinions. She called it as it was and I liked that. We were similar in that way.

Mr Gregory arrived exactly on time and his expression gave nothing away, as he predictably but disappointingly offered me a lower price than I asked for. I’d worked hard to get the sculpture knowing how much he wanted it and while I couldn’t afford to lose the deal, I needed to hold my nerve. It was an ugly sculpture but it was worth a lot of money. I clenched the pen I was holding and gave a stiff smile.

That’s thirty percent less than my asking price. I could get more than the amount I asked for it, I replied politely. It was true but it would take a while until a buyer came through who wanted this particular piece. I’d offered Mr Gregory a reasonable price in the hope of a quick sale and it would still leave me enough to make a good profit. I wondered if my risk in buying the sculpture was going to backfire.

Mr Gregory raised an eyebrow. That may be true but who would buy it? Just because I’m interested doesn’t mean anyone else will be. I have an acquired taste. He was fairly well spoken but he still had a hint of an Irish accent. Dressed in a dark suit, grey overcoat and trilby he was very smart but the rumour was that in his younger years he was a bare-knuckle fighter. Glancing down at his giant mallet-like hands, I wouldn’t have been surprised. I pondered cutting my losses and accepting the price he’d given me. However, it would leave me without a profit and if I wanted to succeed in this business, I couldn’t roll over because people had an intimidating reputation.

Pulling my shoulders back, I imagined I was Ellen Ripley facing off a scary alien, only it was in the form of Mr Gregory. He was not going to beat me. Actually I’ve already had someone else interested in the sculpture. Technically, I’d mentioned it to another customer and they had shown a mild interest, so it wasn’t a complete lie.

Mr Gregory narrowed his eyes at me, trying to decipher if I was lying. After a pause, he said, I’ll offer you seventy percent of your asking price.

Ninety percent, I counter offered and tried to hold my nerve. I would lose a lot of money if he didn’t buy the sculpture but I also knew how much he wanted the piece. There was also a stubborn part of me that I thought I had lost a year ago, that wouldn’t back down easily. With surprise, I realised it was the return of my backbone, and the thought made me feel extremely proud. I know I can actually get more than my asking price but I’m happy to have a quick sale.

Eighty percent and that’s my final offer, he said. His tone told me he wouldn’t tolerate further haggling and I figured that his offer still made me a decent profit.

You have a deal, I said smiling professionally and held my hand out.

His huge hand engulfed mine and his handshake was strong but I kept my shoulders pulled back with my smile in place. If his reputation was true, he probably could have come in, threatened me and taken the sculpture. I knew I was in rocky territory but that was the risk in the antiques business. There was also the possibility that he realised if he wanted other rare items, he may need me again. Deal, he replied a little begrudgingly but there was something else in the way he looked at me, respect maybe.

It was nice doing business with you Mr Gregory. I’ll arrange delivery for you this week, I said as he walked out.

You do that, he replied with a dismissive wave.

Andrea squealed when he left and I breathed out the oxygen I’d been holding in. That was amazing, she said. You have some balls of steal. You do realise he’s like a big gangster around here.

Is that actually true? I asked. When she nodded at me, I realised how lucky I was to get the sale.

Well I admit I was bricking it a little bit but we’ve got to start as we mean to go on. I can’t afford to be intimidated by people in this business.

You were cool as a cucumber. I’m in awe, Andrea replied dramatically.

I rolled my eyes but was secretly delighted and relieved at the sale. The happy buzz stayed with me all day and gave me some reassurance that my business venture would work.

As I pulled into my driveway that evening, I switched off my car and stared at the home that was all mine. I took a moment to appreciate how lucky I was. Feeling on a high after my sale, I couldn’t help but smile as I walked towards my front door. Life was finally coming together after all my hard work. It was almost eight in the evening, so my plan was to relax with a good book and glass of wine. As I reached out to put my key in the front door, my smile faltered as a blast of loud music boomed from next door. Confused, I looked over at the large detached house which had been empty for months. The bass of the dance music filled the air like there was a rave happening inside the house, though my view of the building was somewhat obstructed by the huge trees and tall fence between our homes. My temper flared at the audacity of whoever was playing the awful music, thinking they could just come along to a quiet neighbourhood and ruin the peace with that noise. Huffing, I opened my front door and even with all my windows closed I could still hear the noise pollution. It suddenly got louder as though the front door of the house had been opened and I heard squeals of female laughter. Yes, it had to be a party. Maybe the owner had hired it out as a one-off or had a teenage son and it was their birthday or something, I tried to convince myself, hoping it wouldn’t last all night.

Pouring myself a large glass of wine, I switched on the television and put the volume up but there was a constant boom that vibrated through my house which even made my lovely sash windows rattle. After an hour and numerous failed attempts at reading my book, I flung the historical novel on the table.

Right that’s it. I’ve had enough, I said to myself. Angrily, I stormed out of the house and through my front garden where the music was even louder. The other neighbours lived further up the road and didn’t seem to be affected by the noise at all. Opening the tall iron gate to the house next door, I marched up to the large front door. The house was bigger than mine. In fact it was more like a creepy mansion. It needed a lot of work, I observed and it was definitely not as well-looked after nor as pretty as my home. What was the point in having such a big, old beautiful building if you weren’t going to look after it? Dance music vibrated through the front door as I rang the bell. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Lurch would have answered. After five minutes, I was still waiting for someone to answer. Annoyed, I rang the bell again and waited another five minutes. If possible, the horrible music seemed to get louder as people inside the house were laughing and screaming. I could feel my temper rising. There was still no answer so I kept my finger on the doorbell making it ring continuously and with my other hand, started banging hard on the front door. I nearly fell forward when the door was suddenly pulled open in front of me.

What is it? a tall well-built man, though nothing like Lurch, barked at me in a slight Scottish accent. Why are you ringing the bell like that? His frosty blue eyes looked down at me like he wanted to commit murder and I had a feeling the exact same expression was on my face.

I’m ringing the bell because nobody answered the door which I’m not surprised at given how loud that music is, I shouted.

He stared at me like I was an annoyance and I straightened my shoulders, my backbone tingling. What the hell has it got to do with you?, he asked annoyed. I’m in my own house. So go away and stop ringing the doorbell. As he went to shut the door, I put my foot in the way to wedge it open and I heard him growl in frustration.

Don’t speak to me like that, I said snootily, pointing my finger at him but wanting to slap him. This is a quiet, respectable neighbourhood not the back end of bloody Soho. Turn that awful music down. I placed my hands on my hips now as I glared up at him. My heart was racing in indignation at his rude tone.

Don’t tell me what to do in my own house. The music isn’t awful, that’s the best DJ in the UK in there. The disrepectful man moved forward and towered over me. Everything about him was intimidating from his short dark military haircut to his muscles practically popping out of his dark shirt but I was beyond annoyed. If I wasn’t going to let a gangster try to intimidate me into lowering my price on a sculpture, I certainly wasn’t going to take any rubbish from this behemoth with no brains. It was my worst nightmare. The brute actually lived there.

You’ve been here two minutes and think you can take over. Well you can’t. There are rules in suburban neighbourhoods. If you don’t turn that down, I’ll phone the police.

Right. I’ve had enough of your nonsense. You’ve had your say, now go away. He had the cheek to shoo me away from his doorstep.

Not until you turn the music down. I mean it, I’ll phone the police, I threatened.

I’m a club owner, I know the rules around noise pollution. The police won’t do anything. There’s no anti-social behaviour, just people having a good time. Apart from me, having to stand out here, with you.

We’ll see about that, I warned.

Go for it, he said over his shoulder as he walked back inside. Oh and while you’re at it, get a life. He slammed the front door on me. If that was the way he wanted to play it, then he left me no choice but to phone the police.

Moron, I shouted at the closed front door and stormed down the steps. I left his garden gate open, as he didn’t deserve the courtesy of me closing it after myself. What an arrogant, pigheaded man, I muttered to myself as I walked back into my house on a mission to find my phone. Twenty minutes later I was feeling deflated, tired and even more annoyed after a conversation with the police. Apparently, I shouldn’t have called the emergency line and even the local community police wouldn’t be able to do anything about the noise as it was a council issue. It would be my priority first thing in the morning to call the council. In fact it was going to be my mission to ensure that awful man wasn’t in my lovely neighbourhood for long.

Chapter 2

After the worst night’s sleep ever, caused by having to listen to the booming bass from next door until the early hours of the morning, I woke up feeling like my head was in a vice and I also wanted to throttle someone. I wouldn’t say I’d ever suffered from anger issues but a certain smug Scottish neighbour had my blood boiling. I was still seething from the way he had spoken to me.

It took two cups of coffee before my brain