The Temptress (14 page)

‘Lulu, seriously, if he recognises you, you could
say you were on your way to a fancy dress party and it was cancelled at the
last minute. Say what a small world it is that you bumped into him here, giving
you an opening to do your job. You’re
The Temptress
, you think on your
feet, you weave a magic spell around the men you’re sent in to snare, you can
do this. Think of the money,’ Henry urged. I closed my eyes and took a deep
breath. I’d agreed to this for Tristan, to make sure our future was secure,
that hadn’t changed. Just because it was Luc, didn’t mean that had to change.
If I worked for MI5 I doubted I’d have the choice to back out, the mission was
all that mattered.

‘Please think of the money, I have a bet riding
on you winning,’ advised Mike.

‘Me too,’ agreed Henry.

‘That makes three of us,’ I sighed, with a
resigned chuckle. ‘If something goes wrong, you’d better be ready to get me the
hell out of there, Mike,’ I warned as I straightened up, prepared to go back in
and finish this.

‘You got it boss. He’s got it bad, turned away
another woman while you’ve been in there, then picked up your champagne and
book from the table to put next to him on the bar. He’s still looking around
waiting for you to come back. You’re in.’

‘Great,’ I replied, as I opened the door,
butterflies roving in my stomach. I knew I had to do it, if I walked away and
let Frankie try, I’d always wonder if he’d realised it was me. If that
chemistry was just one sided. I wanted to know what he’d done in the last six
years, how he’d ended up with an awful wife like that, why he hadn’t left her.
The Luc I knew would never be in a sexless relationship. He was the very
definition of sex. Part of me hoped that he had realised it was me, that I’d
got to him as badly as he had to me, that he still wanted me too. He was my
biggest regret in life. I’d always berated myself for sneaking out of his room
that morning and not leaving my number. I’d often wondered how different things
might have been if I’d waited for him to wake up that day. ‘Anything you two
hear tonight is
strictly
confidential, got it?’

‘Got it,’ they both replied. I sighed heavily,
then shook myself down, tucking my clutch up under my arm and walked back into
the bar, heading straight back to my table, as I would have done had I not been
aware that my drink had been moved. I feigned a look of surprise, then glanced
up at the bar, in an instant Luc was off his seat and at my side. Had he always
been that tall? He cut such an imposing figure in his suit with that broad
chest. I stifled a groan as his irresistible scent assaulted my nostrils again,
that heady mix of spice and masculinity.

‘Mademoiselle, I feared for the safety of your
unattended book and drink, I moved them to the bar for safe keeping.’ His voice
had only matured and deepened in the passing years, the sound of it sent
shockwaves through my body, converging between my thighs. God damn it, one sentence
in his sexy accent and my knickers were already wet.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I smiled, sliding
effortlessly into an Essex accent, to try and throw him off my scent. ‘Mr …?’

‘Luc, just Luc,’ he replied, as he reached for
my hand. I stifled a gasp as his fingers wrapped around it, raising it to his
full soft lips as he lay a gentle kiss on my knuckles. A kiss I felt on my
lips, both sets, as crackles of sexual energy permeated my skin. ‘Enchanté, Mrs
…?’ he asked, his eyes studying mine intently. Could it really be that he
didn’t recognise me? Part of me was disappointed, part of me wanted him to have
that instant reaction to me, for him to feel that need for me that he had all
those years ago. The other part of me was relieved that my disguise had saved
me.

‘
Miss
Granger,’ I replied. ‘Isabelle
Granger, but please call me Isabelle. A pleasure to meet you.’

‘I notice that you are drinking alone,’ he
observed, with a puzzled look on his face.

‘I am, a party was cancelled at the last minute,
I was already dressed up, so I decided to come and have a few drinks with a
good book.’

‘I too am all alone,’ he replied and I held
back a frown at the hint of sadness I heard in his voice. ‘Would you care to
join me at the bar? I’d be happy to buy you more champagne in exchange for some
company.’

‘As long as I’m not imposing,’ I replied with a
forced smile. Good God, this couldn’t be more polite and different from our
first conversation if we tried. Did he really feel nothing for me anymore? Or
had his marital years with that bitch beaten the desire out of him?
He came
to me with a broken heart
, she’d told me. I wonder who’d had the capacity
to shatter the man who’d admitted he craved sex like a drug. I was immediately
hit with a surge of jealousy to think of him falling for someone, at the
thought of his hands and mouth on another woman’s skin. I blinked a few times
as I tried to breathe calmly, I had a job to do. I followed him to the bar and
as he adjusted the stool for me, instinctively my hand slipped into his jacket
pocket and pulled out his card without him noticing.

‘Nicely done, Lulu, not lost your edge,’
chuckled Henry, who was obviously observing on the cameras.

‘What edge?’ asked Mike, as I reached for my
clutch with my right hand, lowered it and secured his room key to the back of
it with my thumb, keeping it out of sight.

‘Get with the program, she just swiped his
card, she has it in her right hand, behind her clutch bag. Approach the bar,
stand next to her to order a drink. You can accidently give her a gentle knock,
forcing her to turn to look at you. Her body will block his view of her passing
the card over to you.’

I smiled as Luc offered me his hand to help me
up onto my stool, focussing all of my energy on not reacting to his touch, the
feel of his skin on mine sending shockwaves through my body. He was so close I
could almost lean forwards and kiss him. My eyes lingered on his lips for a
moment, wondering if they still tasted as good. I watched him step back and
bring his stool a little closer, before he sat down, sideways to the bar to
face me. I twisted around and put my clutch on the bar, covering his card and
picked up my champagne before turning back to face him. He had his cognac in
his right hand, his left elbow on the granite bar, his long index finger caressing
his sensuous lips. I blinked to snap myself out of an inappropriate stare at
that face, that face that I saw every single day, that
beautiful
face
that haunted me. I dropped my eyes to see his thighs were parted and I took a
quick gulp of champagne to quell my urge to groan, as I saw he was hard and it
was every bit as impressive as I’d remembered.

‘So,
Isabelle,
’ he purred in that
delicious accent. ‘I see that you are a fan of modern art?’

‘I am,’ I nodded.

‘Quite a coincidence, moi aussi. I am too.’

‘Really?’ I smiled, pleased the research we had
been given was at least valid, even if they’d fucked up with that damn photo.
If I’d seen it was Luc, I’d have aborted immediately. ‘The old masters may have
been skilled, but they really don’t do it for me.’

‘And what, pray tell,
does
it for you?’
he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone. I smiled as Henry’s voice told me
that Mike was behind me at the bar.

‘I’m a fan of Peter Smith actually,’ I replied,
going with the truth. It was hard enough sitting here with him so close, trying
to squash my urges and desire for him, listening to Mike and Henry and
focussing on the plan that was being carried out, without the addition of lying
on top of it all. I jolted violently forwards as Mike elbowed me hard in the
back of my shoulder, my champagne sloshing over the rim of my glass. Luc cursed
under his breath and I quickly spun around to glare at Mike, using my turned
body to hide me sliding the card from under my bag and into his hand. Mission
accomplished, but I was going to bruise he’d been so forceful.

‘I’m so sorry, did I spill your drink? Let me
get you another,’ he offered, as he quickly tucked the card into his pocket,
following Henry’s prompt in our ears.

‘Not necessary,’ Luc replied from behind me, ‘I
have it covered.’ I quickly looked around to see him reaching for his pocket,
for the card that was no longer in there. I reached out and grabbed his hand,
making him jerk his head up in surprise, as I felt that surge of sexual electricity
again.

‘Please, that’s not necessary. I should buy you
one for being so kind, looking after my things and inviting me to join you.’

‘I’ll get you both one, for the inconvenience,’
offered Mike behind me, at Henry’s insistence. Thank God Henry was part of
this, or it would have been a complete disaster.

‘That’s very kind of you,’ I smiled over my
shoulder, then looked back at Luc, my fingers still wrapped around his as he sat
motionless, staring at them. He slowly lifted his head, looking slightly dazed
and nodded his consent. I reluctantly let go of his hand and sat back as Mike
asked the barman to replenish our glasses. That was usually the hardest part,
the swipe, but I had a feeling the distraction was going to be even harder.
‘So, Luc. You know of Peter Smith?’

‘I do not,’ he replied, as he drained the last
of his cognac and ran his tongue over his lips.

‘Then let me show you,’ I offered, grateful for
something to detract from my reaction to being so close to him. I opened the
book, an actual favourite of mine, the spine creases showing which pages I
loved the best. I went straight to the section in question and slid the book
over to him, to let him look.

‘Thank you,’ he nodded at Mike, as our new drinks
were placed in front of us.

‘Yes, thank you,’ I smiled, looking round at
him and giving him my best
please hurry
look. I wasn’t sure how much
longer I could do this.

‘You’re welcome,’ he nodded and knocked back
his water, with a grimace, then headed out. I tried to focus on Luc, instead of
the noise of Henry directing Mike and telling him where he should dip his head
or face a certain way to avoid the cameras. It had been a long time since I’d
had to focus on two conversations at the same time and make sure not to react
to the one going on in my ear.

‘He is very … quirky,’ Luc nodded, as he
studied my picture. ‘An almost childlike quality in the characters he has
created.’

‘I think that’s why I love them so much,
they’re light hearted and fun, but with a clear message,’ I replied. I’d put a
few in Tristan’s bedroom, as well as my own and the lounge.

‘And you are light hearted and fun too?’ he
asked, as he closed the book and slid it back to me. I felt like his eyes were
burning right through me, that he could see exactly who I was beneath my
disguise. But if he did, what would he have to gain by not saying anything?
‘The choice of art can say a lot about its owner.’

‘I suppose I am light hearted and fun sometimes,
aren’t we all? Aren’t you?’

‘Maybe, once upon a time,’ he smiled sadly, his
adorable dimples appearing, dimples I’d kissed. Dimples I longed to kiss again.

‘What changed?’

‘I got married,’ he stated factually, with no
emotion as he shrugged. He picked up his third drink and swirled it around the
glass. He was definitely rattled by something. Was it me? His wife had said he
usually sat with one cognac for the night. Three at most. In half an hour he’d
drunk two already.

‘And here I was thinking marriage was the
epitome of happiness.’

‘So it should be, with the right person,’ he
agreed with a nod.

‘And you’re not with the right person?’ I
didn’t need to ask, I already knew. Mrs. Le Grand wasn’t the woman for him. I’d
never met a more mismatched couple in my life. What had she done to suppress
his fire and passion?

‘Will it sound like a cliché if I tell a
beautiful woman I met in a bar, that no, I am not with the right person and that
my wife doesn’t understand me?’ he smiled sadly again, but this time a little
warmth appeared in his eyes. Well he may not have had me up against the wall,
telling me what he wanted to do to my body, but he’d called me beautiful. It
was a start.

‘Even if it is a cliché, it doesn’t make it any
the less true, does it?’

‘No, it does not, but as you English say, I
have made my bed, I must lie in it.’

‘Is France really that backwards that you don’t
have divorce over there?’ I smiled.

‘What makes you think I am French?’ he queried,
as he did that sexy frown I loved so much, the one that creased his dark brows
and furrowed his forehead.

‘Please, your English is impeccable, but while you
may not be able to hear your own accent, trust me, we can.’

‘That bad?’ he chuckled, with a shake of his
head.

‘That
good
, it’s very sexy,’ I replied,
without thinking. I blushed as he laughed.

‘You find the French accent sexy?’ he asked,
his lips curving up into a smile. Now I was getting somewhere, this was
beginning to look like the man that I’d met.

‘Show me a woman who doesn’t,’ I replied,
pleased to hear that Mike was in Luc’s room at work already. ‘That and the fact
that you’re not totally repulsive makes for quite a heady mix, as can be
attested by the daggers being thrown my way by all of the other jealous women
in the bar, who wished they were sitting here talking to you right now.’

‘There are other women in the bar? I can’t say
I’d noticed,’ he murmured, as he looked at me intently over the rim of his
glass.

‘Very smooth,’ I replied with a blush and a
flutter of my heart, remembering that was what Coco had said about him the day
he sent over the Champagne.
Smooth.
He frowned again and tilted his head
to the side.

‘Have we met before?’ he asked in a suddenly serious
tone, making my heart race a little faster.