A Vengeful Affair Read online

  Javier’s tight nod echoed her suspicion.

  “Laura, do you think Molly would have killed herself?” Javier asked.

  “I dwelled on it a lot. No mother wants to bury her own daughter.” Laura blinked back tears. “That’s not how it’s supposed to happen.”

  “Will you fly back to London and talk to the police? If you tell them what you know, we can try to look for security tapes from Molly’s building to see if we can identify the men who followed her, or if Easton came inside her apartment the night she died. Maybe her former neighbors know something. Since the police ruled it a suicide so quickly, they might have missed something.”

  Laura’s eyes widened. “Do you think there’s a chance she was…murdered?”

  “I don’t know,” Javier said. “But if she really was bullied into suicide, someone will pay for it.”

  “I’ll fly to London.” Laura stood up. “I’ll do whatever it takes.”

  And with that statement, the wheels got in motion quickly. Javier called for a helicopter, and the three of them hiked back to the bed-and-breakfast, which was near the closest area it could land safely to pick them up.

  A wide range of emotions darted at Vivian’s heart long after the conversation had ended. Resentment at her friend for not trusting her the way she should have. Relief at the way Javier was acting, making it his mission to make the responsible party pay for Molly’s death. Pain, because she knew deep inside that once this all came to an end, Javier would walk out of her life.

  One more person she loved who would leave her.

  Her parents. Her biological father. Molly.

  Molly. Now more than ever, Vivian wanted closure.

  During the time it took for a helicopter to appear to take them all to Zurich, Vivian thought about what she would say. Finding the right words was hard, especially considering that Javier would not look at her. He stood with his arms crossed, gazing at the vast infinitude of green and at the mountains.

  His profile was hard and unsmiling.

  I owe him a proper apology.

  A lesser man might have been happy that he had secured his merger, regardless of the cost. But Javier wasn’t the cold individual he pretended to be.

  They landed on the tarmac in Zurich, only to board his private jet immediately. Javier and Vivian went on to Paris to meet with Edouard as planned. Laura was sent on a direct flight to London, where she would go to the police early the next morning. She seemed determined to do whatever she could to help. Vivian understood that Laura had been too caught up in her feelings of loss and guilt to imagine that Molly’s death had been caused by anything other than suicide.

  Javier made a few phone calls, pulled a few strings, and got in touch with a criminal lawyer. He also asked his investigator to find security tapes from Molly’s building and the nearby cross streets, businesses, and ATMs, any of which might have caught footage of Easton or the two men.

  On the jet to Paris, they were alone for the first time since that hour in the woods. Vivian’s anxiety grew, but it wasn’t until Javier chose a leather chair a couple of rows away from hers that she knew for certain he was avoiding her at any cost.

  After takeoff, she unbuckled her seat belt and moved to the empty seat beside his.

  “Javier, first of all, I want to thank you for doing this.” She watched him, holding her breath as his gaze drifted from his magazine to her face.

  “I have my own interest, too. If Easton is guilty. I’m no saint.”

  “I still say thank you. I’m sorry I’ve delayed your merger, and that I thought you were this horrible person.” She swallowed. “After my mother and stepfather died, I looked for my biological father. When I was a child, my mother made me promise never look for him. But I needed to connect with someone, I felt so alone, and I broke that promise. I looked for him, and he couldn’t have cared less about me.” Vivian pulled the words from deep inside. “With Molly’s death…I wanted her to be avenged, yes. But I’ve realized I also wanted to follow through with a promise that involved someone else.”

  “Vivian—” he started, but she put her hand over his and continued.

  “I’m truly sorry for compromising your merger. I hope you still get it.”

  She looked down. Her hand was caught in his, and a wave of awareness traveled up her arm and through the rest of her body. Javier clasped her hand tight, his eyes on hers, but when she thought he was about to lean down to kiss her, he withdrew his hand. Pressing his lips together, he returned his attention to the magazine.

  “I know you are sorry, Vivian. But that doesn’t change anything.”

  It doesn’t change anything.

  Of course.

  The words stayed with Vivian, hammering in her brain as they left the jet and traveled by car to the Broussard office, where she sat opposite the old man across the antique table.

  Javier stood, arms crossed, leaning against a floor-to-ceiling shelf stacked with leather-bound books. While the recording played for Edouard, the only voice she heard was Javier’s.

  It doesn’t change anything.

  But the words didn’t make sense.

  A part of her couldn’t believe she was just another woman in his life. They had made love, he had savagely taken her in the woods in the morning after declaring he couldn’t stop wanting her.

  Could everything that had passed between them really have been about the merger? Now that he’d gotten what he wanted, she was of no use?

  “I definitely have enough to proceed with the merger.” Edouard’s clipped voice brought her back to reality.

  She glanced over her shoulder at Javier. A glint of satisfaction flashed in his eyes, but he didn’t smile.

  “Thank you, Edouard,” Vivian said. “You sending us off to meet Laura helped us to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.”

  “I’m glad. According to Javier, the wheels are in motion to figure out what happened to Molly. Let us hope the prosecutors will find enough evidence to file charges against Easton.”

  “They will,” Javier said from behind her.

  “I’m also glad you didn’t close the deal with Easton,” Vivian added.

  Edouard chuckled. “I never seriously considered him. I don’t appreciate his business ethics.” He glanced at Javier. “Or his personal ethics.”

  “But then why?” Vivian asked.

  “It got you running, didn’t it?” He smiled. “I always believed in Javier. Nevertheless, if there was a thread of doubt that could harm my foundation or legacy, it needed to be chased down.”

  “I’m sorry for any inconvenience I’ve caused,” Vivian said.

  Edouard stood up, his face unreadable. Unsure, she followed his cue, wondering if he would throw her out of his office. It seemed possible.

  “Vivian, you are a loyal friend, and you did what you thought was right,” Edouard said gently, his features softening. A part of her wanted to cling to the instant relief pouring through her, while another warned her it was too soon.

  Edouard reached over and embraced her, the kind gesture causing tears to fill her eyes. She held him back with more than an appropriate amount of enthusiasm, pressing her lips together and closing her eyes to keep the tears from rolling down her flushed cheeks.

  Funny that although she could count on one hand the times she’d met Edouard, a sense of belonging suffused her as they bid farewell.

  “I’m glad I had the opportunity to meet you.” Edouard patted her back when she straightened up and wiped at her tears. “I admire brave hearts. If we only acted on what had been proven right, we wouldn’t ever achieve anything or try new things.”

  “Thank you.” Edouard had a point…

  Javier cleared his throat.

  “Don’t you agree?” Edouard turned to Javier, who had his arms lazily crossed over his broad chest and a face as hard as marble. He made no verbal response. There was only the enigmatic glint flashing in his eyes. Edouard shook his head in disapproval and asked Vivian, “Will you be all right
, my dear?”

  Her lips formed a tremulous smile. She didn’t know how to reply. From now on, her life would never be the same, on so many levels. She knew she needed to make a complete assessment of her past and present, to analyze her actions and the reasons behind them. She could barely begin to think about it now. Within the course of a few days, her whole life had changed—the friend she thought she knew, the man she had met and fallen in love with, the possible legal repercussions of what she had done.

  After all, Edouard’s understanding and generosity were one thing. But how about Javier’s? He had been silent about possible implications.

  “I’ll be fine,” Vivian said simply, wishing she could believe her own choked words.

  “I have to make some calls,” Edouard said. “Javier, could you please show Vivian out?”

  “It will be my pleasure.” Javier’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

  Javier held the door open for her and led the way. The beige walls of the hallway seemed to become narrower and narrower. Vivian felt a lump of heat traveling all the way from her knotted stomach up to her throat.

  I have to do something. This is my last chance.

  “My jet will take you back to London,” Javier said as they approached the elevators. “When you reach the lobby, the driver will be waiting for you. Your belongings will be in the car.”

  Vivian mumbled a thank-you, her palms dampening. She stared at the closed elevator doors. They were on the top floor, and it would take a few moments for the elevator to arrive.

  “Human Resources will contact you and take care of whatever dues are owed to you,” he continued.

  Her job… In the middle of all the changes of the past several hours, her job as a receptionist hadn’t even entered her mind. She’d only applied for it because of her desire for revenge. She had other plans for her career, anyway.

  She gathered that Javier didn’t plan to take any legal action as retaliation for the delay in his merger. Yet her termination had a far stronger implication. He wouldn’t trust her to work for him, and she understood that. But it also meant she wasn’t going to see him anymore.

  No more Javier, not even from behind a reception desk.

  No more kissing his tantalizing, full lips.

  No more talking and sharing with him about things from her past, things that had made her feel unappreciated and singled out until she had heard herself speak them aloud and begun to question them.

  “Javier.” His name slipped from her parted lips before she knew what she would say. She swung around to face him.

  Javier arched an eyebrow.

  Vivian took in the sight of his intriguing black eyes, his granite-like features, his provocative full lips closed. He appeared calm and unstressed.

  Look at him, Vivian, because after this moment, he’ll only be a haunting memory and a face printed in the newspapers for you.

  Would he forget her quickly?

  The elevator halted at the floor with a tone that put her senses on full alert.

  She glanced at the empty space inside, with its rail and mirror in the middle and no one to take anywhere.

  She looked at Javier, who remained standing beside her. He could have shown her to the elevators and left, but he stood…and waited. He stood by her side, and that had to count for something. Maybe this was her time to be vulnerable, just as he had in confiding in her about his past.

  I won’t leave Paris without trying.

  Overwhelmed by everything she wanted to say, she closed the distance between them.

  He didn’t move.

  Vivian stared at his firmly shut lips, his implacable features. He looked down at her, and his thick eyelashes nearly covered his eyes, concealing whatever emotion was hidden behind them. She inhaled his minty, masculine scent one last time.

  Before she could change her mind, she covered his lips with hers, her arms wrapping around his neck the same way they had when he had been the one initiating their kisses. The feel of his body, his heat trapped under his clothes, and the passion pulsating in her veins encouraged her to run her tongue across his upper lip.

  He didn’t react.

  She rubbed her lips on his. He suppressed a groan.

  “I love you,” Vivian whispered close to his mouth, stripping herself bare.

  She…loved him? The realization hit her with the force of an emotional slap.

  There was no more denying it to herself. The attraction she had at first found disturbing had turned into a torrid passion and now into a love that made her heart tighten with pain every time she thought about parting from him.

  How would she go on without seeing him? How had she allowed a man she barely knew to affect her this much?

  Well, in her defense, she hadn’t. She’d tried to put up a wall, to constantly remind herself that they sought different things, that he was not the man for her.

  Just her luck, none of it had worked.

  Instead, the midnight-eyed Spanish hunk had found a way to conquer her heart, and he’d stirred up intense emotions, long-forgotten memories, and now this wrenching pain faced with the end of something that could never be.

  For he hadn’t done it on purpose. Winning her love had never been a part of his plan. Her body, yes. Yet he had her love and didn’t know it.

  Well, he knows it now.

  She felt more exposed than she had when they had made love in the woods, and fully aware she was probably making a fool of herself. But she would be a bigger fool if she didn’t. For she loved him—the man who had suffered, who had questioned, and who had made a new life for himself.

  Her smile died as soon as he tore himself from her and motioned for her to get in the elevator.

  “I can’t do this.” A blend of urgency, frustration, and anger laced his voice, and his expression was determined. He sighed as if he couldn’t wait for the awkwardness to be over.

  Vivian pressed her trembling lips together. It took an outstanding effort not to fall apart in front of him. Somehow the message must have made it to her brain, because with a strength she couldn’t claim as her own, her feet took a step back, then another, and there she was, inside the elevator, her blurred vision focused on the man she couldn’t have.

  He can’t do this? Or he doesn’t want to do this? Or just not with me?

  “Good-bye, Vivian Foster.” His voice was barely above a whisper, and his black eyes didn’t leave hers for a moment as the heavy doors closed between them.

  Chapter Twelve

  Javier ended his teleconference to China and took a deep breath as he turned off his computer monitor. It was only 1:00 p.m., although it felt much later. Not because of all he had accomplished, but rather because of how little sleep he’d had.

  Infierno!

  He had tried to forget her.

  A week had passed since he’d seen her, and neither working himself to exhaustion nor exercising as if he were training for a triathlon had managed to evict Vivian Foster from his head. Every time he was about to congratulate himself for not thinking about her, he’d realize that he was indeed thinking of her—that her wavy, luscious hair, her endless legs, and those big blue eyes were so fresh in his memory, he could do a mental sketch of her anytime he wanted. And he did…often.

  He ran his fingers through his hair.

  Taking a gorgeous Italian model out to dinner hadn’t helped at all. Somewhere between sitting down in the restaurant and getting the bill, he’d grown bored and lied, saying he had to go, and smoothly turned down an invitation for coffee at her apartment. Lying to himself, though, was a different matter.

  She’d lied to him. She’d betrayed him and let him down, and still he would do anything to see her, to bury himself in her curves, to lose all control with her again. Just once.

  “Mr. Rivera.” His secretary’s voice through the intercom interrupted his fantasizing. “My son’s day care just called. He’s running a high fever, and I might need to drive him to my sister’s for the rest of the day. May I take a longer
lunch break?”

  “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?” he suggested. “Go stay with your son.”

  “Thank you, sir,” she answered. “Before I go, Monsieur Broussard wants you to call him immediately.”

  Javier made the call, and midway through the conversation Edouard asked whether he would be attending one of his foundation parties. Javier was about to turn the invitation down due to his hectic schedule when Edouard said, “I understand. I was just telling Vivian how hard you work and that I imagined you couldn’t make it.”

  “Vivian?” A frisson ran down his spine. “You’ve been talking to her?”

  “Yes, we keep in touch. I offered for her to come and help me sell some artwork for fund-raising purposes, and she’s considering it.”

  “How is she?”

  “She’s good.” Edouard’s short answer intrigued him even further. It was obvious that Vivian had developed some kind of friendship with the older man. But Javier wasn’t about to swallow his pride and beg for any snippet of information about her he could get.

  It didn’t matter. He wasn’t going.

  …

  “More champagne, Monsieur?” asked the uniformed waitress.

  Javier shook his head, his fingers tapping on the glass he had held for what felt like forever. He shouldn’t have come.

  But he’d had to. He’d pondered the difficult decision for two long weeks until it finally became clear to him that the only alternative to losing his mind would be to attend the function. How bad could it be, seeing her?

  Not knowing how she would react had tipped the scale. Would she run to him? Would she treat him with disdain? Or, worse, would she act as if they were old friends and be completely immune to him, as if he didn’t matter?

  He looked around. The stuffiness of the silent auction party crept into his blood, and his heart rate increased every time he glanced at the large french doors, hoping Vivian would walk in.

  Two hours into the auction, he was burning with frustration. She wasn’t coming.

  He searched for Edouard, and when he found him, he couldn’t resist asking about Vivian. The older man told him she had changed her mind.