A Vengeful Affair by Carmen Falcone Page B

her as his flavor of the month. Why would they want to get to know her better? She wasn’t famous, rich, or strikingly beautiful. And given their situation, she could understand why he didn’t want her to mingle with anyone at the table, which was possibly why he hadn’t paid her any attention over the course of the meal.
    The waiter brought dessert, a small, warm chocolate cake surrounded by wild berries. Vivian ate it with satisfaction, enjoying the sensation of the smooth, warm chocolate filling moving down her throat and the sugar hit that took her thoughts from Javier, even if only for a few moments. When she had finished the dessert, he looked at her with amusement.
    “It’s my weakness,” Vivian said, licking her lips. “Besides, dessert is the best part.”
    Her light comment didn’t have the intended result. The amusement washed out of his face. He observed her with curved lips, and electricity surged through her body when her eyes met his heated stare.
    “Have mine,” he offered, and as Vivian opened her mouth to decline, Javier scooped a piece up with his fork and dipped it inside her mouth.
    Vivian swallowed the morsel and grabbed for her water glass. “Thank you, but I can feed myself.” She drank quickly.
    “I don’t mind,” he insisted, and once again he raised his fork to her mouth.
    Vivian looked back into his eyes, aware she needed a witty comeback to dispel the sexual tension. She knew he was challenging her. Hadn’t he asked her, not long ago, if she was attracted to him? She’d said no. Because that was the truth, wasn’t it? So why would she act like a Victorian virgin just because he wanted to give her another piece of paradise?
    And by paradise, she only meant chocolate cake.
    Delicious, inviting, warm…cake.
    Vivian opened her mouth wide. He placed the cake inside once more and smiled.
    With his thumb, he took a crumb from the corner of her mouth and brought it to his lips. Vivian caught her breath. Truth be told, she had never seen sexier, fuller lips on a man before. Plump and sensuous, they were just right.
    The tip of his tongue slipped out, and he licked the crumb off his finger. She watched him, unable to take her eyes from his mouth.
    “You are right. Dessert is the best part.” His voice was husky, filled with wickedness.
    Vivian blinked a couple of times. What was happening to her? For the second time this evening, she’d completely lost her head around Javier. No thinking, just feeling. She wasn’t used to that kind of indulgence.
    Just because she’d lied to Javier about what she was doing in the office when he found her didn’t mean she had mastered fooling herself. A part of her was attracted to him.
    No good will come of this.
    Vivian tore her eyes away, frustrated with herself. Apart from wanting—needing—to take the merger away from him, she now had to remain alert in order to keep her own responsive body in check.
    A few short speeches were made, and the audience alternated between attentive listening and clapping for the next speaker. Her fingers played with a long allium stem from the table arrangement.
    Edouard walked to the podium amid a standing ovation. Following Javier’s lead, she got to her feet and clapped. The lights dimmed, and a large monitor began playing a video about the foundation. The narrator spoke French, but English subtitles appeared on the screen. Sighing in relief, Vivian read them and learned about the man who had founded the charity for women who were victims of domestic violence and abuse.
    She gasped when his name flashed on the screen. The founder was called Jean Edouard Broussard.
    Monsieur Broussard.
    A frozen liquid spread through her bloodstream. She had danced, laughed, and shared a painful moment with the famous Monsieur Broussard—a spirited, kind man who had founded a charity to honor his deceased daughter. She cleared her throat, conscious that Javier was looking at her. “You could have told me he was the host of the