A Vengeful Affair Read online

  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.

  She closed her eyes, feigning sleep.

  “It’s hot in here.”

  Vivian opened her eyes. The pitch blackness gave her no view of what he was wearing…or not wearing. The floor creaked under his bare feet, and as he moved closer, her heart beat faster.

  “No air-conditioning,” Vivian said. “I checked.”

  “I will open the window.” He turned her bedside lamp on.

  The light exposed his silk boxers. It also exposed his bare chest, and a throbbing commenced at the juncture of her thighs.

  He wasn’t paying her any attention. She propped herself up on her elbows, raising her eyes to the large window over the bed. He would have to step onto the bed to reach it.

  And that’s exactly what he did.

  “I can move,” she offered, pulling the coverlet up when his foot eased down on the mattress.

  “This will only take a second.”

  One painful second.

  Washing her underwear instead of wearing it had not been a good idea. Vivian tightened her legs together, wanting to erase the moisture between them just as she wished she could erase the memories of his shaft thrusting deep and hard into her, his hot tongue teasing the dark corners inside her mouth.

  “Much better,” Javier said when he popped the window open and a light breeze swept in, the scent of lime trees scenting the fresh air.

  He returned to his chair.

  She broke the silence. “Good night, Javier.”

  He didn’t respond.

  …

  Bright sunlight shone on Vivian’s face. She rubbed the back of her hand over her eyes and opened them slowly to take in the morning.

  With a yawn, she sat up in the bed, legs crossed and arms wide above her head like a lazy cat stretching. A cough from the other side of the room reminded her she was not alone, and she quickly covered herself with a sheet before glancing across at Javier.

  “G-good morning.”

  He stood, looking away. His hair was wet, and he wore his suit trousers and white shirt again.

  “Did I oversleep? How long—”

  “I just returned from the reception area. I brought you something to eat.” He pointed at the small tray on the top of the dresser. There was a small cup of coffee, a sandwich, and an apple.

  “Thank you.”

  “I have a map. I bought some essentials from the desk attendant.” He zipped a sturdy green backpack closed as he spoke. “We still need to stop at a store to get the right clothes to go into the forest.”

  “Do you have any idea where Laura is?”

  “He showed me on the map where she usually goes. It’s a popular camping site.”

  She nodded, reluctant to get out of the bed. Of course she wanted to know if Laura had anything important to say that Vivian already didn’t know about Molly. But at the same time, a part of her warned that finding Laura meant she wouldn’t see Javier again.

  “I’ll wait for you outside.” He grabbed the backpack and closed the door behind him.

  When she dressed and emerged from the room, Javier led her to a small hiking shop. “We don’t have much time,” he said. The shop had some good and even expensive brands, and the racks were crowded. Javier picked out a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt with the efficiency that was his trademark. Never mind that he had never been to this shop. He worked his way around the rack until he’d selected a few items. “These should work,” he announced.

  “You’re not going to try them on?”

  “No need.” He went through the racks opposite her and removed a few hangers. He handed her a white-and-green-striped tank top and a pair of faded jeans. “These will do for you.”

  “What are you, a salesman?” Vivian glanced at the randomly picked pieces, hoping the jeans would fit. She was enjoying this no-frills Javier. One day he sent for extravagant clothes for her in a five-star hotel, the next he was picking the first thing off the rack and not even letting her try it on.

  “I’m good at making assumptions. Most of the time.” The hint of sarcasm in his voice brought her back to reality.

  “Javier, can’t we just be cordial with each other? Soon this will all be over.” Vivian held the top over her upper body.

  “It isn’t only about what I want to get, Vivian.” Javier’s hands tightened around the jeans he carried. “It’s also about what I don’t wish Easton to have.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t want to fail.” His eyes fixed on the floor for a moment. When he raised his gaze to hers, she saw an uncharacteristic hint of fear in his eyes. “If I can’t get the merger and he does…” He trailed off, as if the prospect were too unbearable for him to speak it out loud.

  Vivian’s breath caught. She looked around them, wishing they were alone. The store clerk had her eyes glued to the small television on the counter. There were a couple of other customers trying on hiking shoes as they spoke in German.

  She stepped closer to Javier. “Why does it matter so much? If he gets it?”

  She had asked him this before, and her chances of getting an answer now
were no better. As Vivian watched, the lines of Javier’s face tightened, and his eyes seemed to stare past her for a moment before he turned back to her and gave her his fiercest glare.

  “Because that man ruined my childhood. In a sick way, he inspired me to strive for success, and as soon as I could make my own decisions, I left my past behind and never looked back. Acquiring Broussard’s company will make my wealth far greater than his. I am half his age. It will destroy him.”

  His words echoed in her head, and she found herself staring at the scar on his chin. Her voice wavered when she asked, “Is he your stepfather?”

  Javier shrugged. She had her answer.

  Oh, no.

  Her knees weakened, and she plopped down on a nearby wooden bench.

  Easton Finn was his stepfather. That was why Javier had looked at her with such disgust. He thought Easton was her lover. Not only did he hate her, but he believed she had slept with the man who had been trying to ruin his life ever since he was a child.

  “Javier…I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” She struggled to lift her voice above a whisper.

  “We don’t have time for this.” He picked up a pair of women’s hiking shoes and leaned down. Vivian blinked when he took her shoes off and swiftly worked the hiking shoes onto her feet. “These fit.” He stood up again, gathering the items and removing his wallet to pay for them.

  He turned his back to her.

  “Javier.”

  “Vivian.” It was a command, an order to compose herself. “We will change in the fitting rooms and depart from here.”

  She followed his lead, and within minutes they had both changed into the outdoor clothes. Javier drove the car to a lot by the woods, and they parked and walked into the woods in silence. The tension suffocated her. As they hiked, her mind raced. She stared at Javier’s back encased in an ordinary cotton shirt, the faded jeans that clung to his long legs, and she thought about the terrible truth she had just discovered.

  With every step they took, the tightness in her throat increased. It all made sense now. Easton Finn really wanted to destroy Javier—not only to take his merger but to humiliate him, personally and emotionally. And she had been his instrument.