A Vengeful Affair Read online

  Vivian hated Easton Finn for all he had done to Javier, and she hated herself for being part of it. Yes, there was no way she could have known. She had been doing what she did for Molly, her best friend.

  But in no way did that knowledge bring her any relief, because she didn’t want to have been the instrument who hurt Javier even more than he’d already been hurt.

  She had to set things straight, although she didn’t know how she could even begin.

  Vivian took a big gulp from her water bottle and wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand. “Javier, we can’t just not talk.” She stopped short.

  “There’s nothing to talk about. You asked me a question, and I answered it. That’s all.” He came to a halt and looked at her over his shoulder. Then he shook his head, as if thinking to himself, and continued to hike.

  She called after him. “You can’t honestly expect me to stay quiet about this.” Sweat dripped from her neck down her tank top. He didn’t respond, and Vivian resumed walking with a deep sigh.

  Sun rays slipped from in between long leaves of the tall, arched lime trees, shining down on the bushes. A light breeze swept over her skin, relieving the heat for a moment. She smelled moist earth and tree sap. Anyone else would rave about the outstanding air quality, about what a beautiful day it was to hike outdoors, but it didn’t matter to her. The air was heavy and stuffy, which was just how she felt.

  She struggled to match Javier’s strides. He marched like an athlete, with power and agility.

  “Javier, can you please slow down?” she finally asked after an hour of torture.

  “Just keep up the pace,” he replied without looking back.

  “I want to get there alive,” she panted. “Is this a punishment?”

  “No.”

  She didn’t believe him.

  “I swear to you, I didn’t know who he was.” She said it loud enough to bring Javier to a temporary halt. His back stiffened, his hands stilling alongside his body. “I know it’s none of my business, but—”

  “It’s not,” he replied angrily, without looking back.

  He strode off again. If anything, he walked even faster.

  “You just won’t talk to me. Nice.” Vivian shook her head. “Well, if training for a marathon is the only way…” she muttered under her breath.

  Propelled by an instinct that she could no longer control, she increased her speed, pushing past her own limits. Her heart hammered in her chest, and as she surged forward, gravel flew down the slope beneath her feet.

  “Vivian,” he shouted as she ran past him. She was past caring.

  She ran ahead, cold sweat breaking out on her skin and her mouth dry as her breath came in short pants. She heard him catching up, but she ran as fast as she could.

  For a single moment, it was all so simple. Her hair flying in the wind, caressing her face, the threads of light coming through the treetops of the forest…

  Javier swore loudly behind her.

  She turned to see him hopping on one foot, trying to maintain balance as he clutched the other in both hands.

  “What happened?”

  He hobbled to a rock and sat down. “My foot hit a rock, and my ankle turned. I didn’t see it in my way.” He wrinkled his forehead when he removed his shoe and peeled his sock off.

  Blood covered the top of his foot, and his toes were already turning purple. Although he tried to breathe normally, there was no doubt he was in a lot of pain.

  Vivian’s stomach tightened. “Is it broken?” She kneeled down next to him.

  “I doubt it,” he muttered.

  Vivian outlined the bruised and bloodied area very gently with the tips of her fingers. He suppressed a groan.

  “You’re in pain.”

  “It’s just an ache,” he said. “I’ll feel better soon.”

  It was so like Javier to conceal his vulnerability. He was always so strong and in control, she could only imagine that admitting pain and suffering—even if it was only physical suffering—didn’t come easily for him.

  “You can’t keep on hiking.”

  “What other option do we have? We are three hours away from the bed-and-breakfast and still a couple of hours from the campsite where we should find Laura.”

  Vivian shook her head. There was no way he could walk for two more hours with his foot bruised and swollen. “Stay right there,” she said.

  She left to look for help—although of what kind, she wasn’t sure.

  …

  Javier opened his mouth to call her back, but she disappeared faster than his stock price would fall if he lost the merger.

  Gone. She was gone.

  She had probably taken off to get the advantage over him. She would find Molly’s mother, talk to her, and somehow convince her to say something that would screw him over at the end. By the time Javier found them, it would be too late.

  He’d almost believed her frightened eyes when she told him she didn’t know Easton was his stepfather. She had never mentioned their relationship to him. It was not as though he considered Easton his stepfather, anyway. Javier hadn’t seen the man face-to-face in a very long time, and he had heard that Easton and his mother had divorced nastily years ago.

  The thought of Vivian sleeping with Easton and helping him destroy the merger Javier had so carefully crafted made him pound his fist into the ground.

  He stood up, shifting his weight to his healthy foot. Pain shot up his leg, although it was nothing compared to the ache in his chest. What felt like over fifteen minutes had passed, and Vivian had not returned. She had betrayed him again.

  He wasn’t going to stand and wait. Hurt or not, he was going to—

  “Javier.”

  He turned around to see Vivian running his way, panting. Her tank top clung to her sweaty skin, her chest heaving.

  She’d come back. He smiled before he could stop himself, and a dangerous combination of warmth and relief filled his heart. She’d come back for him.

  Damn her.

  “I saw the sign for a bed-and-breakfast only a mile to the south. If you can walk that far, we can go there to get you an ice pack, ibuprofen, and some rest. We might be able to call for help from there.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. I just need to rest,” he said.

  Vivian picked up the backpack from the ground and closed the gap between them, sliding her arm around his waist.

  “Come on, then.”

  He stepped back. “Vivian, I’m not about to lean on you. I’m too heavy.”

  “I won’t break.” She smiled, tightening her arm around his waist. Javier took a deep breath. Her arms were around him, and the top of her head was under his chin. Javier swallowed.

  He would make her think she was helping him without overloading her. Shifting his weight to the healthy foot, he leaned on her superficially. Sharp pain shot through his ankle.

  Vivian caught on to his plan immediately. “Javier, it’s okay. Lean on me.” She positioned herself next to him so he could lean on her shoulder for help without exerting himself too much.

  He finally accepted her assistance.

  When had he last been injured? He didn’t want to think about it… It was too long ago. The woman who was supposed to help him then, his mother, had downplayed his pain and asked one of the maids to care for him. The staff members had turned over regularly, never staying long enough to get close to a child who often had unexplained injuries and whose parents traveled a great deal.

  He hated for any woman to see him weak. Truth be told, if they had been in the city, there was no way he would have relied on her.

  Although the pain remained, something akin to peace blanketed him as they moved through the woods. He focused on the sounds of their clothes rubbing together, the imprint their shoes made on the ground. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw a light, barely visible circle of dust in their wake.

  A voice inside him whispered that dust wasn’t the only thing he was leaving behind.
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br />   Chapter Ten

  Vivian glanced around the timber cottage. It was small but luxurious, with an old-world charm. The big four-poster bed was covered with an elegant bedspread and embroidered pillows, and white rugs accented the dark wood floor. Vintage lamps added to the ambience, casting a soft glow on either side of the bed. Lace curtains framed the window, which unveiled a faraway valley hemmed in by snowcapped mountains.

  “I can hold the ice packs myself,” Javier said. He shot her an amused look from his position lying on the chaise longue.

  “Of course.” Vivian folded her arms. “There’s not a doctor close by, but the clerk said someone can look at your foot tomorrow.”

  “I don’t need a doctor. The ibuprofen you gave me is kicking in, and these help.” He sat up and pointed at the ice packs on his foot and ankle.

  Vivian nodded. She walked to the carafe by the bedside table, poured some water into a glass, and drank it in a few big, noisy gulps.

  “Do you need anything else?” she asked him, pouring herself more water.

  For one moment, she imagined in his reply. You. You are all I need.

  No, the thought was foolish. If the past day was anything to go by, all he wanted was for her to be gone. And sadly, not even that realization kept her pulse from racing when he stood up.

  “A shower.”

  “Do you need any help?”

  “I’ll manage.” He had to hop on his good foot, but he reached the bathroom without much difficulty.

  A few minutes later, his phone rang on the white dresser. He’d placed it there before he sat. Vivian hadn’t given it much thought. She glanced down at it without picking it up and saw the caller ID: Edouard Broussard.

  The Frenchman probably wondered if they’d found Molly’s mother yet. Or maybe he had news to share with them. Vivian’s fingers itched to answer, but she resisted. No more secrets.

  When Javier joined her in the room a moment later, he wore only a fluffy towel wrapped around his waist. From the ankle up, the man looked as if nothing had ever been wrong with him.

  Vivian blinked, trying to calm her response. How could any woman resist the temptation of approaching him, running her fingers through the damp curls of his chest hair, nuzzling her lips along the curve of his neck, and caressing every bit of his freshly washed body?

  “Your phone rang,” she said quickly, hoping to take her mind off his body. “It was Edouard.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “What did he want?”

  “I didn’t answer.”

  He rested both hands on his waist for a moment. His eyes fixed nowhere in particular. Then he moved. “Let’s find out.”

  On speakerphone, they explained that finding Laura’s mother had become a bigger task than they had expected. Together, the three of them decided that since Laura was going to be at her campsite for another night, a slight delay would be acceptable. Javier and Vivian would spend the night at the cottage and resume their journey in the morning.

  Edouard told them Matt Smith had denied having anything to do with hiring men to stalk Molly, as well as any personal involvement with her. Edouard had run a background check on Matt and found nothing. The Frenchman was adamant that finding Laura remained a priority. He didn’t want any loose ends, lest the story leak to the press.

  After they hung up, Vivian turned to go into the bathroom.

  “Thank you,” Javier said.

  She imagined he thanked her for waiting for him to talk to Edouard.

  When she returned wearing a soft robe she had found in the bathroom, she dried her hair with her towel and wondered why he’d really thanked her. Might he be warming up to her? The thought encouraged her to try to talk to him. What could he do, anyway? Run?

  A knock sounded at the door, and she opened it. The clerk from reception presented a small tray filled with cold cuts, tea sandwiches, and juices—the food she had ordered when they checked in.

  “I’m glad this isn’t awkward,” she joked, with a glance at the heart-shaped sandwiches. She set the tray on the top of the coffee table, and she and Javier ate in silence.

  “Are you feeling any better?” she asked between bites. “You look better.”

  “I’m good.”

  “Javier…I have to tell you something.”

  He bit into an apple. “Isn’t this fortunate timing, since I’m stranded?”

  She laughed, enjoying the momentary glimpse of the old Javier. Then she sobered, afraid to lose the courage she’d needed to bring up the subject. “I don’t know if there will ever be a good time to try to convince you I didn’t know Easton was your stepfather and that I never slept with him.”

  “What difference does it make? In less than twenty-four hours, this will all be sorted, and we won’t have to see each other again.”

  “I don’t mind if you hate me for lying to you in the beginning, or for believing my friend. But I can’t stand that you think I’d knowingly partner up with the man who destroyed your childhood.” Her voice wavered.

  “Didn’t Molly know? When she first met with him?”

  “I don’t know. She didn’t tell me about him or what she was doing until after it happened and she was fired. I learned most of it all at once.”

  “Well, don’t you wonder why that is? Since you two were close?”

  “Perhaps she thought she could do it on her own.”

  He crossed his arms and assessed her. Vivian wasn’t sure if he believed her—or if he liked what he saw. She held the robe closed over her chest when she shifted in her seat.

  “My point is, I’m sorry about Easton. But I’m curious… Didn’t your mother ever notice your injuries? Didn’t she know?”

  “I don’t want your pity,” he said flatly. “Talking about it is pointless.”

  “Quite the contrary. You have to talk about these things.”

  He shook his head, avoiding looking at her. “It’s all in the past.”

  “It’s part of who you are. The scar on your chin isn’t the only one you have,” Vivian insisted.

  She didn’t believe for one second that it was in the past.

  When he finally spoke, his accent was pronounced. “She pretended she didn’t know. She didn’t think of it as child abuse. Her husband kept saying I needed discipline, and that was how he’d been brought up. So when I had a purple spot on my legs or arms, she just looked away.”

  Tears filled her eyes. “Did it happen often?” His gaze skimmed her face. Pain hid below the control he was trying so hard to keep. “She should have defended you,” Vivian said.

  “She was blinded by whatever twisted feelings she had for him. She didn’t want to jeopardize her marriage by siding with her son.” He stood up.

  “I’m so sorry.” Vivian moved to embrace him from behind, wrapping her arms around his waist. Thoughts of this man as a young boy being beaten in the household where he should have been safe and nurtured haunted her.

  When he tried to disentangle her arms from around him, she only held on tighter, resting her head on his shoulder.

  He stiffened, then relaxed for a moment. This time he succeeded in turning around and freeing his arms enough to hold her.

  Vivian sniffed. She was a mess, tears flowing down her cheeks as Javier looked down at her. No more contempt shadowed his eyes, no more hidden feelings. A lonely tear made its way down his cheek, but there was something more than sorrow in his eyes. She couldn’t quite understand what it was. He stared at her and held her gaze. She didn’t dare move.

  And then he gently stepped back and moved a few feet away.

  “Javier, please…” she started, unsure of what she asked for.

  She gazed up at him. He wore a towel around his waist, and she was still in her robe. Yet when she had embraced him, she had been engulfed by the desire to reach to a part of him that he kept hidden from her—though not as deeply as he thought.

  Now a different kind of heat flooded her at the sight of his taut nipples, his wide chest, and the tanned, broad sho
ulders in front of her. Vivian wiped the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

  If awareness had ever crackled between a man and a woman, she witnessed it at that moment. His eyes raked over her. “I want you, Vivian.” His admission sliced through the silence. “That’s all I know right now. But I don’t know if I can forget all you’ve done.”

  Vivian chose to ignore everything after the words I want you. She didn’t want to talk or to dissect any more old wounds—his or hers. Her eyes skimmed to the bed, her heart thumping. This was it.

  “I want you, too, in all sorts of ways.”

  “Take your robe off,” he demanded.

  She was more than happy to comply with his request. The softness of the cotton sliding down her skin left a trail of goose bumps behind. Vivian knew the fabric wasn’t to blame, but rather Javier’s blatant appreciation.

  When the robe had pooled at her feet, she raised her eyes to meet his. Heat coiled low in her stomach. She enjoyed watching his Adam’s apple bob. The gleam in his eyes. That self-control of his threatening to slip away.

  She smiled at the wave of empowerment that swept through her as he closed the short distance between them. Maybe he could just take her up against the wall to give her the release her body craved. Though judging by the way his lips twitched, the heat of his eyes trailing down her figure, Javier had different plans.

  Sheer delight coursed through her when their bodies met, skin to skin, man to woman. He lowered his head and branded her mouth in a kiss that was almost violent. Vivian’s skin tingled, her hands linked around his neck, her fingertips gliding over his smooth skin. Their tongues swirled together, wrestling.

  This kiss tasted not of guilt, not of doubt, not of pain.

  He caressed her shoulders, her lower back. Finally his hands cupped her bare bottom, pulling her to him. A tortured gasp escaped her lips when she felt a hard bulge under the towel he still wore.

  He shifted his weight slightly from one side to the other, and she managed to tear her lips from his. “Your foot. Is it all right?”

  “I don’t give a damn about my foot.”

  With darkened eyes, he smiled at her—the most sensual smile she’d ever seen. She touched his chest, tugging her fingers through the hair and caressing his nipples, making him groan. His towel slipped to the floor and covered her feet.