Fling in Paris Page 8

  He contemplated sitting in front of his flat screen and flipping through channels, then decided that he needed some fresh air to clear his mind. He walked down rue Belgrande for a while, simply losing himself in the crowds, then decided he wanted a change of scenery.

  He hailed a cab—the walk was a little too far for him—and told the driver to take him to Champ de Mars. As he was stepping out of the car, he caught sight of a couple entering through the park gates—and froze.

  It was Sherry. And she was holding hands with another man.

  He worked his jaw for a moment, but found that he couldn’t even make a sound. He didn’t understand why he felt betrayed. Neither of them had made it clear they were exclusive. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yet he wanted to run after her, grab her by the shoulders, and demand to know who that man was, how long she’d been fucking him for, and if he was a better lay than he was.

  Instead, he shook his head and slid back inside the cab. “Rue Belgrande, sil vous plait.”

  ****

  “Hey, it was really nice of you to show me around.” Nick told her as he walked her back to her flat. “I really had fun. We haven’t spent time just hanging out like that in a long time.”

  “I’m glad,” Sherry told him as they stopped outside her flat, forcing a smile on her face. “You’re right—we haven’t done anything like that in a long time.” The entire time she’d been out with him she’d been wishing it was Roberto at her side. At one point she could have sworn that she felt Roberto near her, but when she’d looked around there’d been no one familiar around. She’d even almost slipped up a few times and called Nick Roberto while she was talking to him—that would have been a disaster.

  “I’m going back to Toronto tomorrow morning, so this is goodbye.” Nick touched her cheek and smiled. “I’ll be waiting for you back in Toronto.”

  He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, and Sherry wanted to cry. She felt absolutely nothing—there was no warm feeling in her chest, no curling of her toes or tightening of her nipples like when Roberto kissed her. How was she ever going to make this work?

  “Bye Nick.” She drew away from him and opened the door to her flat. “I hope you have a good flight back.”

  He nodded. “See you later. I love you Sherry.”

  “Love you too,” she said, the words dry as dust in her throat. He smiled, then walked away. She shut the door behind her.

  The next day Sherry walked into OS International, determined to put last night behind her. She was not going to be conflicted about this—she wasn’t. Like she’d promised herself earlier, she would take this time in Paris to enjoy her time apart from Nick, and to get Roberto out of her system. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, so she wouldn’t try to fight it. She would fuck his brains out, then once she was finally satisfied she would leave. Men did that all the time, and if what she’d heard from both Monique and Roberto himself was true, Roberto had done it to more than his fair share of females. Surely he wouldn’t begrudge her. He might’ve been a little angry the other day, but he’d had time to think about it—what she’d said made sense. A playboy like him wouldn’t take this relationship too seriously.

  She reached her office without incident, then startled with surprise as when she found Roberto waiting inside.

  “Good morning, Sherry,” he greeted her, standing up from the visitor’s chair he’d been lounging in. “And how are you this morning?”

  “Fine.” Sherry frowned. “Did you need to see me about something?”

  “Nothing in particular.” Roberto shrugged. “I just wanted to say hello before you started your workday.” He paused. “I was going to say hi when I saw you at the Champ de Mars last night, but you looked preoccupied with your… friend, so I refrained.”

  “I didn’t realize that you were there,” she managed, her heart sinking into her shoes. He’d seen her with Nick? So he had been there last night after all.

  Roberto laughed, and the sound sent chills down Sherry’s spine—it held no warmth. “I didn’t expect you too. Don’t worry bella,” he added. “I’m not mad at you. Have a good training session.”

  He walked out of her office and she stood there for a minute, staring after him. His tone had been easy, she thought. Surely he didn’t resent her. It’s not like he knew who Nick was.

  But if he wasn’t upset, then why were his eyes so cold?

  Roberto stamped another report with his seal of approval, set it on top of his completed stack, then sighed as he looked toward the much larger stack of reports he still had to go through. On any other day he would have been finished with this task an hour ago, but he’d found it difficult to concentrate—his mind was on Sherry, as per usual.

  For a woman who was trying to treat their relationship as a casual, open-ended affair, she had looked guilty as all hell when he’d mentioned seeing her in the park last night. He wondered why. Could it be that she regretted spending time with a man who wasn’t him? A part of him, the irrational part that wanted to mark her exclusively as his own, hoped so. It was a good sign; it meant she was thinking about becoming exclusive with him. And damn, he really wasn’t a possessive man but he hated the idea of her crying out her passion in another man’s arms, of her letting someone else stroke their fingers along her silky smooth, caramel skin, feeling her, tasting her. Rage burned in his heart even as his cock hardened at the thought of her naked and writhing in passion.

  He didn’t want to go crawling back to her, but damn if she didn’t make him burn and it infuriated him almost as much as it fascinated him. Usually women panted after him and he indulged, not the other way around.

  The intercom buzzed and he pressed the button on his business line. “Oui, Monique?”

  “Simone is outside, demanding to see you,” Monique told him. Her voice was crisp and efficient as always, but something about how she said it made him pause. Was that disapproval he heard in her voice?

  And why did he even care? Simone was crawling back to him, just as he knew she would. He had been waiting weeks for this. “Send her in,” he answered smoothly, then disconnected again.

  A moment later, his ex-girlfriend threw open the door. Her bright red hair swirled around her angular face like flames, and her long legs, supported by needle-thin heels, ate up what little ground there was as she crossed the room. She was still in good shape, he reflected as his eyes traveled down her slim figure, which was sheathed in a tight, crotch-skimming dress of peacock blue. But that didn’t surprise him—she was a model after all, and keeping her body in good shape was part of her livelihood.

  “Bonjour, Roberto,” Simone purred, folding herself sinuously into one of his chairs. She crossed her legs, giving him a nice view of her black lace panties. “Eet ‘as been awhile.”

  Monique discreetly closed the door behind Simone, and he nodded gratefully to her before fixing his attention back on Simone. “Is there something I can help you with?” he asked politely.

  Simone’s perfectly tweezed eyebrows arched up over her forehead. “I have decided to forgive you for not buying me that diamond ring I asked you so nicely for our anniversary,” she told him with an imperious toss of her head. “I am willing to be your girlfriend again.”

  Roberto sat back in his chair, amused. “Is that so?” he asked. “And what if I said no?” He was joking, of course. Right? He didn’t prefer Sherry over Simone. How could an HR executive from Canada possibly compare with a top model from France?

  Simone blinked in surprise. “Ah, you are teasing me.” She laughed, displaying startlingly white teeth. “Of course you’re not going to say no. You may have found a side-dish to amuse yourself with, but I know what you like best. No lover could possibly compare.”

  “You were always rather exquisite in bed,” he agreed. She’d been a wildcat, actually, as demanding and imperious between the sheets as she was out of them. Not like Sherry, who was also passionate, but just as giving as she was receiving.

  He shook his head on
ce to snap himself out of it. He’d enjoyed Simone’s fiery nature. It had turned him on. And now that she was back, he would enjoy it again.

  “Why don’t you and I go out for dinner tonight?” he asked smoothly. “I need to finish up at the office, but I am interested in… discussing things with you. Perhaps we can pick up where we left off.”

  Simone smiled, her blue eyes twinkling slyly. “Oui. You can pick me up at my flat at six o’clock. I’ll be sure to… dress appropriately.”

  He nodded. “I will be there.”

  She walked out, hips swaying deliberately as she went. It would be a lot sexier, he thought, if her hips had a bit more flair, and if her ass was a bit rounder. Sherry’s ass was much more luscious and ripe—every time he watched her walk by all he could think of was sinking his teeth into her derriere.

  Fuck. Would he never be able to get her out of his head?

  Sherry’s shoes felt like lead as she made her way up the stairs and down the hall to Roberto’s office with her weekly report. She should have been ecstatic—the training session had gone well, and the assessments from today showed remarkable progress in the employees’ job performance. She had nothing but good things to report. She should be skipping on her way to the boss’ office.

  “Hey Monique,” she greeted, walking up to his secretary’s desk. “Is Roberto busy? I wanted to go over these reports with him.”

  Monique looked up from her computer, her dark eyes speculative for just a second before they went blank. “Certainly. I’ll let him know you’re waiting.”

  What was that all about? Sherry thought as Monique cleared her through, then showed her into Roberto’s office.

  “Hello, Sherry.” Roberto’s smile was cool and polite. “Monique said that you wanted to go over the reports with me?”

  Sherry hesitated. There should have been nothing wrong with the way he was treating her—he was being cool and professional, behaving exactly the way a boss should. She’d wanted him to behave like this from the moment she’d met him in this setting and realized who he was. And now that he was, she found that she missed the old Roberto, the one who’d spread her legs and fucked her on top of his desk in the middle of the workday.

  She forced herself to keep her mind on her work, and went over the reports and graphs, highlighting the increases in performance, underlining the points that still needed to be worked on. He nodded and smiled, interjecting every so often with a question, attentive and interested just like a boss should be. There was no gleam of lust in his eyes that she’d come to expect, no hand stroking her fingers or cheeks. And it was driving her crazy.

  “It looks like you are making progress,” he commented as she stuffed her papers back in her briefcase. “Well done. I will be sure to submit a commendation to your files in HR.”

  “Thank you.” Sherry paused, unsure if she should say anything about their relationship. Oh, to hell with it. “Umm, I was wondering, are you free for dinner tonight?”

  Something shifted in Roberto’s eyes, but they reverted back to cool and polite before Sherry could get a good glimpse. “Sorry, bella, but I actually have plans for tonight. Perhaps some other time.”

  “Oh. Uh, sure.” She closed her briefcase and stood, unsure of what to say. For some reason she hadn’t expected him to turn her down, which was just stupid. He was a busy man; of course he couldn’t be expected to clear his schedule for her all the time. “I’ll just see you tomorrow then.”

  He nodded. “Have a good evening.”

  When she walked out, it was with her head held high as she placed one foot in front of her, staring straight ahead. If she made eye contact with any of the employees, she knew she was going to cry.

  Chapter 9

  “Mmm,” Simone moaned as she licked a dollop of lobster sauce off her manicured finger. “It is wonderful of you to take me to my favorite restaurant, Roberto.”

  Roberto smiled at her over the rim of his wine glass. “I couldn’t possibly forget how much you like the seafood at the Maison Blanc.” He preferred the Jules Verne himself, but Simone was very picky and she would have given him grief had they gone there. So he’d snagged the best seat in the house instead—a corner booth at the very top, where they had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower.

  The cool night breeze tugged at Simone’s fiery hair, whipping it back from her angular face as she smiled back. “So, what are we having for dessert?” she purred, her fingers gently squeezing his left knee under the table—a sure sign that she wasn’t thinking about food. His cock remained flaccid, as it had throughout the meal regardless of what she did. And she’d made all the right moves—the strategic baring of cleavage, the hot looks, the subtle touches. Once, any one of those would have turned him on.

  “Why don’t we look at the dessert menu?” he asked, deliberately ignoring her hint as he picked it up and leafed through it. “The crème brulee looks very good tonight.”

  Simone pouted, but picked up her menu and perused the different options, and Roberto took the opportunity to study her again. The more he looked at her, the more he wondered why he’d found her so attractive. He used to adore everything about her. Now he looked at her milk-white skin and found it too pale, her flame-red hair and found it too bright.

  “There is not much here that I can afford to indulge in,” Simone complained after a moment. “You know how I have to watch my figure, Roberto.”

  “You could afford to gain a few pounds,” Roberto murmured, thinking of Sherry’s lusciously curved body—Simone was slim as a rail. He was, he realized, comparing the two women even now, and finding Simone physically lacking in every possible way.

  “What was that?” Simone narrowed her eyes.

  “Nothing, darling,” he waved his hand, putting his menu down. “If you don’t want anything on the menu, that’s fine. Why don’t you let me take you home?”

  He called for the waiter and paid their check, paying Simone no mind, who was fuming silently across the table. She said nothing, though she looked as though she’d like to claw at his face with those inch-long red nails of hers, and by the time they walked out of the restaurants she’d changed tactics again, clutching at his arm and pressing her body close against his.

  During the drive home she placed her hand on his knee and slid it slowly up his thigh the way she always used to do. She would tease him all the way home until he was in a state of such sexual awareness that he would often pull over at the curb and fuck her right then and there, in the back seat.

  His cock hardened this time, but not because of Simone—he was thinking about fucking Sherry in the backseat, something he’d not yet gotten a chance to do. He was going to have to fix that at the first opportunity.

  They arrived at Simone’s loft, and Roberto pulled up to the curb. He was about to open the door so that he could come around and open the passenger’s side when Simone grabbed him by the collar and yanked him against her, crushing her lips against his.

  Her kiss was passionate, wild and brutal—just as it had always been. Frustrated, he threw himself into it, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and pressing her back against her seat. She clawed at his shoulders, trying to tug at his evening jacket, but he kept her pressed down, giving her none of the control she wanted.

  When he pulled away, Simone’s breast was heaving, the color in her cheeks high as she stared up at him, eyes glittering with lust. And he felt absolutely nothing. Not even a twinge. His cock lay limp between his legs. He might as well have been pecking his mother on the cheek.

  He leaned across Simone and unlatched the passenger door, then settled back in his seat. “Good night.”

  Her hand swung out and cracked against his cheek. Her eyes were still glittering, her chest still heaving, but this time with rage.

  “I will find out who she is, Roberto, mark my words,” Simone spat before getting out and slamming the car door behind her.

  Roberto touched his stinging cheek as he watched her go. He wasn’t surprised at her reaction—
he’d even expected the slap. She was going to have to get over herself—if she had stayed with him he wouldn’t have met Sherry at the rex club. But now that he had, no one else would do for him.

  He flipped on the radio, filling the car with the sound of Italian music, and sang all the way home.

  ****

  Sherry slumped in her office chair, exhausted. She’d barely managed to scrape through this morning’s training session without falling asleep on her feet—she hadn’t gotten much rest last night, tossing and turning and wondering what Roberto was doing. Had he gone off to a business meeting? Visited an old friend? Was he seeing another woman? The last one had really stuck in her craw, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t shake off the feeling that he’d spent the night in another woman’s arms.

  She knew it was stupid of her to be upset—she’d made it clear that they didn’t have a real relationship, and really, what he did with his own time was none of her business. It was stupid of her to have indulged in this kind of affair. She’d know from the start that she wasn’t the kind of woman to have a fling and walk away, and that’s exactly what she was going to have to do since she’d promised Nick she’d come back to him. It couldn’t be good for their marriage for her to be spending time with Roberto, even if it was just to get him out of her system.

  Eventually she’d gotten sick of tossing and turning, and so she’d gotten up, puttered around the house, and tried her best to decipher the morning news—which was still difficult even though she’d been picking up a bit more French during her stay. By the time seven o’clock rolled around she was fed up with herself, and so she’d gotten dress and headed off to work.