A Vengeful Affair (11 page)

“I didn’t know you were so altruistic.” Her voice carried sarcasm, or perhaps surprise. He couldn’t really tell any longer.

“I’m fair. What did Easton promise you, money?” The anger rose up—anger with himself for his inability to drop the subject. It was the idea of Easton being involved. Easton and Vivian.

“Money doesn’t interest me.”

“Why not? Do you have plenty of it?” He wondered if Easton had bought her jewelry or other expensive gifts. His chest tightened as he imagined Vivian in bed with the old bastard.

He would not allow himself to care who she’d slept with.

“I don’t have plenty of it.” She gave him a dismissive shrug, as if she didn’t care or money didn’t matter to her.

What a joke.

The flight attendant entered the cabin, smiling as she handed him a glass of scotch and gave Vivian a glass of orange juice. He usually didn’t drink during the day, but he needed something to settle the turmoil of his feelings.

He watched her as she drank her juice, torn between wanting her to disappear from his life and wanting her so badly it was a physical ache.

Wanting her after everything she’d done—it was a new low. But the idea of pulling her to him, ripping her clothes off, and taking her in the most primitive fashion wouldn’t leave his mind. Whatever sexual spell she’d spun around him was still pulsing, just like a part of him he wished wasn’t.

Javier pulled the tray closer over his erection. His own body had betrayed him.

“How can you be loyal to a lover who didn’t care if you slept with another man?” He had to know.

“Who, Easton?” She flipped the pages of a business magazine she had picked out from the built-in shelf next to the window. “He wasn’t my lover.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I told you there was no man in my life, remember?”

“Well, he is nothing but a dirtbag. Not a man. But still, that’s just terminology.”

“I didn’t lie to you about him.” She closed the magazine and glanced around before her blue eyes found his.

“What else didn’t you lie about?”

It didn’t matter anymore, but he wanted to know it all. “Your parents? Your upbringing?” His voice rose as he spoke.

“I didn’t lie about my parents or my life in general. I lied about why I was in your office, and it grew from there. But I did that because I had a purpose.”

Javier managed a terse laugh. “How did you meet Easton?”

“Molly approached him because she knew he was also very interested in the merger. After her funeral, he came to me—the only time we’ve met in person—and proposed that I continue what she’d started.”

“You’ve met him in person only once?” Javier snorted. “I don’t buy it.”

“I’m not going to keep apologizing to you for lying,” Vivian said. “You obviously hate me and don’t believe anything I say…and I don’t care what you think of me at this point.” She gave him a long, assessing look before opening the magazine again.

“Now that I can believe,” he said drily, raising his glass of scotch in a toast.

The jet landed smoothly forty minutes later, and they swiftly passed through immigration. The top-of-the-line German sedan Javier had requested from the rental desk as they traveled was waiting.

“No limo this time?” Vivian asked.

“The fewer people are involved in this, the better.”

Why is she so worried about being alone with me?

Javier shook his head. She wasn’t. Maybe she had counted on having either the bodyguard or a chauffeur around to distract him, or hoped she might persuade them to help her send Easton a message.

Javier held the steering wheel tightly as they turned onto the main road to the city.

It was a cool, sunny day, and Lake Zurich was crowded. Children chattered and squealed as they cheekily threw food to the ducks on the lake. A couple of stylishly dressed women walked their tiny dogs around the plaza, and cars fought for parking spaces. The traffic was slow and chaotic, just as he had expected. Downtown, tourists hopped on the city trolley, which made annoying, continuous stops. Blue-collar workers took the train to get into the city. It seemed that everywhere he looked, everyone was rushing to get somewhere.

Infierno.
None of it took his mind off the woman sitting next to him. He could not get the dreadful image of Vivian with Easton out of his head. He needed to focus on securing his merger without allowing himself to be distracted by her presence, either in his head or by his side.

“It’s daytime. What if she’s working?” Vivian asked when he parked on the street in a middle-class neighborhood.

“Then I will find out where she works.” Javier got out of the car.

They walked in silence on the narrow sidewalk of an even narrower street, past a couple of restaurants and flower shops, until they reached a faded brown townhouse and Javier confirmed the number above the door.

He buzzed the intercom, but there was no answer. As he sighed in frustration, an elderly woman carrying a bag of groceries approached the narrow iron gate. She opened the door with an access key, and when Javier heard the clicking noise, he opened the door wide for her, smiling politely.

She smiled back and mumbled a thank-you as she walked in. Javier pretended to look for his keys until the lady was out of sight, then caught the door before it fully closed. He looked at Vivian as they entered the building.

“No elevator. Great.” She shuddered at the sight of an old stairwell. “What floor does she live on?”

“Fourth.” Javier regretted letting her walk ahead of him as they climbed the stairs. They were careful to stay a few steps behind the old lady, who had also taken the stairs. The last thing they needed was unwanted attention.

He looked away from Vivian’s perfectly rounded bottom, which swayed with every step.

The narrow stairwell seemed to close in on him, as he wondered what it would be like to take her right here against the wall or on the steps. To rid his body of the poisonous need.

To his relief, they soon reached the fourth floor.

“Maybe she’s out,” Vivian said after she knocked on the door a few times. “Or working.”

He spotted the lady across the hall, still fighting to find the key in her purse while balancing grocery bags. Vivian approached her and stretched her hand out with a warm smile. “Here, I can help,” she offered.

The lady handed her the bags, and after retrieving the apartment key in her purse, she opened her arms to get her bags back. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Vivian carefully handed them back. “By the way, do you know what time the lady from 4C will return? I was a friend of her daughter’s.”

The old lady smiled. “Laura’s on vacation. She left for Zuoz to go hiking. She does that every year in the spring.”

“Do you know where she stays in Zuoz?” Javier asked.

The lady wrinkled her forehead in thought. “A cozy little place that has a statue of two birds at the entrance. But I don’t know the name.”

“Thank you,” Vivian said.

“I’ll tell her you stopped by.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Javier said. “We’ll go and visit her in Zuoz.”

Chapter Nine

“We’re here,” Javier said, and Vivian woke, startled and disoriented. Her last memory before her lids closed had been of the pastel colors of the sunset over peaceful countryside, which, along with the slowed rhythm of the car, had lulled her into a doze.

She followed Javier from the car and smiled at the entrance to a dark-brown lodge with a medium-sized stone statue of two kissing birds in the front garden. If things weren’t so strained between them, she would have congratulated him on his acute sense of direction, as he had only glanced at the map once before finding the street filled with bed-and-breakfasts.

At the run-down reception area, Javier spoke in German with the receptionist. Vivian picked up a brochure for visitors and pretended to read while she watched Javier.

She knew Molly hadn’t committed suicide. Aside from that truth, all she had were questions. Did Molly have an affair with someone else? Could there be another explanation? Would Edouard get something out of Javier’s investigator?

“Vivian,” Javier called. “Laura Richardson isn’t here.”

“She’s not?” Vivian blinked out of her trance.

“She’s been staying here, but she has gone hiking in the woods for a couple of days.”

Vivian looked at the forest through the big window. Darkness blanketed the trees. “She went in there.”

Javier nodded. “Yes. And so will we.”

“I don’t think so.” Vivian crossed her arms. “It’s getting dark.” The prospect of adventuring into the gloomy forest with Javier after such a long day was not at all favorable. She hadn’t eaten on the flight. Her anxiety had been stronger than any desire for food. Now she was starving. “If we succeed at anything apart from dying of exhaustion, it will be scaring her to death. We can’t turn up in the middle of the night.”

“Are you trying to delay this from happening?” Javier stepped closer, his mocking, disbelieving eyes capturing hers.

“I’m starving. And not dressed to wander into the woods.” She smoothed her dress with her hands and avoided looking at his dark gray suit, which fit his large body perfectly.

Javier paused for a moment, then turned to speak to the receptionist. He tucked a key ring into his pocket and turned back to her.

“All right. There’s a restaurant down the street. We can eat something, then sleep and depart to look for her tomorrow, first thing in the morning.”

“Thank you.” Vivian smiled with relief, but he didn’t smile in return.

They chose to stroll to the restaurant. Javier was silent as they made their way to the Italian bistro.

Vivian took in the tall streetlamps shining down a street filled with cozy bistros, small antique shops, and a crowded plaza, where some people enjoyed the breezy evening and chatted.

During their meal, Javier checked the voice mails and text messages on his phone and completely ignored her. She pondered. Should she eat in silence and pretend not to care? But the day had been long. Her defenses were long since exhausted, and after all, she had told him the truth. She’d unlocked all the secrets of her motives for him. Why shouldn’t he do the same?

“Why does this merger matter so much to you?” she asked.

He raised his eyes from the phone to hers, frowning slightly. “I’m not in the mood for small talk.”

“It can’t be just the money. You’re a wealthy man.”

He sat up straight, flashing her a look full of contempt. He was not the least bit interested in having this conversation with her.

“I told you what moved me,” she pressed. “I want know that the reason you’ve done all you’ve done to protect this merger isn’t just money.”

After all, I’ve risked everything. I’ve gone against one of the most powerful men in England, who now hates me and has assured me he will make my life hell.

She didn’t even want to think about what that would entail.

“Why?” he asked. “Does everything need a noble reason to justify it?”

Earlier, he’d made a point of warning her that if the merger fell through, people would lose their jobs. She felt enough guilt about that to fill Lake Zurich. But she knew creating or saving jobs hadn’t been his motivation. Something else had triggered his relentless pursuit of the Broussard empire.

“No, not everything.” She shrugged, her fingers playing with her fork over her half-eaten pasta.

“Even if I did have a reason, why would I share it with you?”

“Sharing real feelings doesn’t make you inferior, Javier.”

For several minutes, he didn’t say anything. While he finished eating, his eyes fixed on something past her, something that wasn’t there, she let herself feel how much she missed him. How she missed the little time she had spent with what she thought of as the real Javier—the man behind the mask, who had problems and traumas and insecurities like anyone else. The man who had made her feel important and cherished when he’d opened the gate to his past, something he obviously didn’t do often.

That man is gone.

Javier pushed to his feet. “Time to go.” He took out a few bills and placed them on the table.

As they headed back, Vivian dwelled on her memories of their short days in Paris. The way her skin had responded to his touch. How he’d helped her to overcome old insecurities.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts, she inhaled in shock when Javier’s arm snaked around her waist and he pulled her off the street into a dark alley.

His hand covered her mouth. “Shh.”

He was dangerously close, and she looked past him. She could make out nothing but the Dumpster nearby and a couple of sleeping alley cats. A ray of light from the streetlamp showed the worry etched on his face.

When he removed his hand from her mouth, she whispered, “What are you doing?”

Javier looked over his shoulder, and so did she. A man was walking down the street they had been on. Javier must have known who he was and why he was important, but Vivian had no idea what was happening.

Not that she minded being close to him once again. Her body responded to his with an unsettling tingle in the pit of her stomach.

As if he’d sensed it, he stepped back.

“Javier, what is it?”

“I’m making sure we aren’t being followed,” he said. “That man was at the restaurant, and he left right after we did.”

Vivian shook her head. “Why would we be followed?”

“Maybe Easton doesn’t want me to find Molly’s mother. Maybe he’s found her already and paid her off.”

He kept looking at the man, and to Vivian’s relief, a woman and a laughing child joined him, and they walked to a sedan parked off the narrow street. Javier sighed.

“Javier, you need some rest. I’m not an idiot. I gather that Easton isn’t a good man, but—”

“
Now
you agree with me,” he said drily. They left the alley and began walking back to the bed-and-breakfast.

Vivian glared back at him, and even in the dim light, she could see his dark eyes blaze with resentment. “He could have pretended not to know me when he saw me earlier in Edouard’s office,” she pointed out. “But he made sure he called me by name. He wanted to expose me to you. He wanted for you to know that I was part of his plan.”

He nodded.

Well, at least they agreed about one thing.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. “If he hadn’t exposed you, would you have told me?” he asked.

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No.”

“Then he achieved what he wanted to.”

“You’ve done that yourself, Vivian.”

She stopped in front of him and looked up into his face. “Javier.” He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “You said Molly was a one-night stand for you. She led me to believe you two had an affair. Is there a possibility she fell for you and you didn’t acknowledge it?”

“I’d had a few drinks, but I didn’t behave irresponsibly. When we slept together, I told her I didn’t have any more to give. I didn’t deceive her.”

He didn’t have any more to give Molly, or anyone? The question burned at the tip of her tongue. But judging by the seriousness in his expression and the way he picked up his pace, Javier was done with personal conversation.

She couldn’t worry about losing him. She’d never had him to lose, not really. All she had was a crazy attraction that had nothing to do with reason, and a suffocating sense of missed opportunity that could never turn into anything more. Sadly for her, she didn’t even have an opportunity at the moment to deal with these emotions.

By the time they reached the front door of the cabin, Vivian craved solitude. All she wanted was to close the door of a room, undress, and take a long, hot shower. And cry. She could already feel her cheeks hardening, the warm pressure building beneath her forehead. All the tears she’d held back during the course of the day begged for release. “What time do we need to leave tomorrow?”

“Early. I will wake you if you are still sleeping.”

“Okay. May I have my room key?” She stretched out her hand.

Javier took a key from his pocket. “Our room. We are sharing it.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Vivian didn’t even try to hide her nervousness. It was too late for that.

“Neither do I.” He opened the door wide and signaled with his hands for her to go inside. “But I don’t trust you, so I have no option.”

The small room was quite different from the luxurious suite they’d shared in Paris. The furniture had seen better days. Her gaze moved from the narrow entrance to the wooden chest with a round mirror, to…
one
queen-size bed adorned with a light-green coverlet.

She looked for another bed, but all she could see was a recliner in one corner, a bedside table with an old-fashioned alarm clock and a lamp, and the bathroom door.

She cleared her throat. “This isn’t going to work.”

“I’ll sleep on the chair.”

She couldn’t
not
notice his slightly husky tone when he pointed to the recliner.

“You won’t fit in it.” The thought of his large body cramped on the recliner was absurd.

More absurd was the fantasy of her naked body straddling his on that recliner, his strong hands on each side of her waist while she threw her head back with a moan of pure pleasure. He would lick her neck, pinch her hardened nipples, and kiss her.

Vivian blinked the insane image away and cleared her throat again.

“I’ll manage,” he said casually. “Do you want to use the bathroom first? I want to go to sleep.” Though he was a billionaire used to the best things in life, his practical sense impressed her. He didn’t make a big deal about the drab room. Even she felt like complaining…but not a word from him. He was willing to fold his large body up in an old, cramped recliner.

Or maybe he just wants to go to sleep?

Vivian disappeared into the small, functional bathroom. She took a shower and hand-washed her bra and panties.

They had left Paris in such a hurry they hadn’t packed, and there were no stores open in Zuoz at that time of the evening. She had no option but to wrap herself in a towel. It barely covered her thighs. To her relief, when she passed Javier by, he busied himself with sliding his fingers over the touch screen of his phone. The floor creaked when she was just a couple of steps away from the bed.

He shifted, lifting his eyes from the phone. Slowly, very slowly, his stare rose from her legs up her bare thighs, over her chest, to linger on her face.

Her throat closed as his eyes met hers and their gazes locked together for a few seconds.

Sexy.

Dangerous.

Forbidden.

She couldn’t look at him and forget how insanely hot he looked naked. The way his long fingers moved inside her. His hands, relentlessly exploring every part of her body. Making her feel like an empowered, desired, strong woman.

Making her feel.

As if snapping out of a trance, Javier stood up.

He passed by her close enough that she could smell the mixture of his minty aftershave, which still lingered from the morning, and his own male scent. He shut the bathroom door behind him, and soon she heard the water running. Vivian got on the bed, discarded her towel over the side, and quickly pulled the thin sheet and coverlet up over her nakedness.

But not even her nakedness saved her from the scorching sensation blanketing her body. She looked around, hoping to find an air-conditioning unit, even one of those old, loud ones that looked as if they had been fabricated a couple of centuries ago. Even a slow-motion fan would do.

Nothing.

She stared at the ceiling, then around her bed and beyond. No fan.

She had counted on more time to prepare herself for what was to come—ten minutes or longer, although even that would not have been enough. But sooner than she’d wished, she heard the sharp creak of the faucet being turned off. She turned the lamp off just before the door opened, and his steps approached.