Free A Vengeful Affair by Carmen Falcone Page B

him the truth.
    She was wrong for him, but her body, her skin felt so right.
    “Is that what you tell all your lovers to get them into bed?” She pulled away from him, a delicate flush on her cheeks.
    “I never have to.” It was the truth. Women were usually drawn to him like bees to honey. Not that he complained, but over the years he had become a lot more selective about his female companions.
    She rolled her eyes. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”
    “I’ve had plenty of firsts lately.” He shook his head.
    “How so?” Her polished fingernails caressed the metal rail of the balcony. He imagined those soft hands cupping his shaft, her delicate fingers tracing along his length.
    Javier cleared his throat. “The first time I slept next to a woman without having sex. The first time I kissed someone as passionately as we did without going further.”
    “I’m not your new toy,” she warned him, concern flashing in her eyes.
    “No, you’re not. That’s why I’m about to take you out for an innocent Sunday breakfast.”
    “Another first?”
    He nodded. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Five
     
    The Café Toujours was located in a prime area, famous for its view overlooking the sun-dappled Seine river and for the eclectic crowd of bohemian locals, intellectuals, and trendsetters. Vivian sipped her orange juice as she sat opposite Javier on the terrace outside the café.
    It was a beautiful morning. She squinted toward the river, trying to exhale the tension from her shoulders.
    “Why aren’t you comfortable with your height?” Javier asked.
    “Pardon?”
    “I noticed you wore flats the first day I saw you. You tend to slightly hunch instead of walking tall.”
    Vivian straightened her shoulders. “I don’t hunch.”
    “You almost tripped last night.”
    “I’m not a professional dancer,” she retorted.
    “I meant when you were walking in high heels.”
    “Suddenly I’m the hunchback of Notre-Dame?”
    His warm laugh was as intimate as a caress. “Not quite like the hunchback. But why?”
    “I don’t…” She sighed, too tired to be combative. A moment later, she said, “It was my father.”
    “Your bad posture is hereditary?” he teased.
    “No.” She cleared her throat. “Well, I don’t know. He left when I was four.”
    She wondered whether to say more. Vivian wasn’t keen on sharing her emotions with strangers—let alone enemies—but life was so uncertain that Javier might be the last person she’d tell this to. What if he threw her in jail after finding out her plan to take the merger away from him?
    “After a few years, my mom remarried. My stepfather was a nice man. She was petite, he was barely average height. I always felt different, being so tall like my biological father. I wanted to blend.” The throaty rasp in her voice gave away how distressing she still found the memory.
    “You thought shrinking your shoulders would help,” Javier said.
    “It’s not something I do consciously. I guess every time we were on family outings or when I looked at pictures of us, my biological father leaving me would be at the back of my mind. I was hurt by him never even wanting to get to know me. He never gave me a chance.”
    “Did you look for him as an adult?”
    She nodded. “After my mom and stepfather died, I looked. But he still didn’t want anything to do with me.”
    And she’d felt so guilty for looking after having promised her mother she wouldn’t. The whole thing had been a fiasco.
    Vivian closed her eyes, feeling the lump in her throat slowly dissolve. She didn’t know if her relief arose from sharing a crucial part of what made her what she was, or simply because she felt at ease telling him the truth.
    “Vivian.”
    Javier spoke gently, and as she opened her eyes, a hot tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it off with the back of her hand.
    Remember why you’re here. Remember.
    “It’s all right, really. My stepfather was a loving