Read The Temptress Online

Authors: C. J. Fallowfield,Karen J,Book Cover By Design

The Temptress (31 page)

‘This is beyond impertinent,’ she snapped,
turning to fix me with a glare, as I struggled not to give Violet a high five.
‘Do you allow your staff to speak to all your clients in this manner? She
should be sacked, immediatement! This is libellous.’

‘Technically it’s only libellous if she’s
not
telling the truth and I
do
operate a policy of freedom of speech and
honesty,’ I smiled.

‘You are treading on ice that is very thin, Miss
McQueen,’ she scowled, with a look of contempt and fury.

‘Then it’s a good job that you’ve already
acclimatised me to a very frosty atmosphere and I happen to be an excellent
swimmer. Thank you, Violet. You may give us the room. Your honesty, as ever, is
appreciated.’

‘Thank you,’ she beamed as she shut the door.
She was getting a bonus for that little display. Myrtille Le Grand had steam
coming out of her ears.

‘So, given the goal posts change every time you
come to see me, what is your requirement of me today?’ I asked, as I sat and
casually crossed my legs, draping one arm over the back of my sectional sofa.

‘You know exactly what I require. I gave you
until today to provide me with proof for your fee, or I would publish those
photos. So?’

‘I don’t have proof and I doubt that a picture
of me kissing a man, whose face is virtually obscured, is going to make waves
for either me or your husband. You gave me a contract that states I had four
weeks, so far it’s only been two. I therefore have two more to provide you with
evidence, if however you want to break that contract early, I could be
persuaded to seek legal advice for breach of contract on your part and sue you
for a substantial portion of the fee that I lost, due to you not allowing me
the time that was agreed upon, in writing.’

‘Do not mistake me for a fool, Miss McQueen.’

‘I’m fairly set in my conviction that I’m
not
mistaken in thinking of you as one, Mrs. Le Grand,’ I smiled.

‘You stall! I know exactly what you are doing.
You are stalling while my husband tries to protect himself from his inevitable
destruction. I am aware that he has held meetings with Crédit Agricole and The
Bank of China, I have a very long reach and he would be wise to remember this.’

‘I assure you, Mrs. Le Grand, that your husband
is fully aware of the depths to which you are prepared to sink.’

‘You think you have won,’ she laughed. ‘You
both underestimate me. I have a card of trump up my sleeve,’ she announced,
with delight in her voice, as I lost my battle to hold in my laughter at her
version of a trump card.

‘Please, show me your trump,’ I replied,
giggling like a schoolgirl.

‘Now you mock me! The laugh will be on the
other side of your head in a moment.’

‘If you wish to fire British idioms at me, then
please do me the courtesy of learning to speak my language correctly, or simply
refrain.’

‘I am quickly losing patience with you. You
wish to play the hard ball, very well, but remember, you have forced my hand
here. Raul, m’attendre à la reception. Ce est privé, entre Miss McQueen et
moi.’

I swallowed quickly while she was ordering Raul
to step outside. I was trying to play it cool, giving back as good as she gave,
which Luc had said would rattle her, but inside I was shaking, dreading what
“card” she was about to produce. I was sure that Luc and I had been careful the
last two nights and I’d been extra vigilant to make sure no one was following
us while we were together. I watched him hand her the brown messenger envelope
he’d been holding, then left and she returned her cool gaze back to me.

‘Please sit,’ I offered, with a flick of my
head.

‘I prefer to stand. I look forward to the look
on your face as I show you exactly why you will give me what I want.’ A smug
smile settled on her face as she slapped the envelope down on the table in
front of me. I breathed slowly, in and out of my nostrils, trying not to show
how nervous I was feeling inside about what she could possibly have. I reached
for it and undid the elastic securing the flap shut and slid out the contents.
It took every ounce of my self-control to not leap up, grab her by the throat
and slam her up against the wall as I saw the top document was a photograph of
Tristan kissing me goodbye in the school playground. The next was a headshot of
him from the annual school photos taken in December. ‘Your reaction disappoints
me,’ she observed.

‘You have pictures of my son,’ I shrugged,
aiming for casual indifference. ‘I don’t see what benefit that will be of to
you. I hardly keep him a closely guarded secret.’

‘Ah but you do, from the person who has the
most to gain from this news. You have the most unusual coloured eyes, how odd
that your son has those dark brown ones of his father, not to mention an
uncanny resemblance to him.’ She smiled as I tried not to let the utter
devastation I felt at her comment show on my face. She knew. How the hell did
she know? ‘I suspect that my husband is not aware of his existence, yet. You
are keeping this from him. How angry do you think he’ll be to learn of this
information in the news? If you refuse to comply with my demands, I will be
forced to add this little titbit to the news of your betrayal of me in the
press. How much more convincing, an affair with the woman who had his secret
love child, that he comes to London to visit every week, staying only a stone’s
throw from where his lover lives.
No one
will believe otherwise. My
husband is not a forgiving man either. I am sure that when he discovers he has
a son and you have failed to be honest with him about this fact, he will be
furious with you. O yes,’ she laughed, as I blinked up at her, unsure of what
to say. This I’d not expected at all. ‘
This
is the face I wanted to see.
I wish I had a camera to take a snapshot for prosperity, this would be a picture
that I would keep in
my
wallet. I will let you peruse the rest of the
documents, all of which are obviously copies, while you come to the inevitable
conclusion that you must comply with my demands. I must avail myself of your
ladies facilities. Where are they?’

I pointed at the door to my bedroom in a daze.
Trying to blackmail me and my reputation was one thing, bringing Tristan into
this was unacceptable. I’d not been followed all week, I was sure of it. The
next photo was me holding Tristan’s hand as we left the house to get into my
car. Damn it! She’d already found us and taken these before I even realised she
was watching. That’s why I hadn’t spotted anyone, she didn’t need to follow me
anymore, she already had what she needed. I’d been prepared to let her try and
smear me, her picture of me kissing Luc was clear enough to show my face, but
definitely not his. Even if she had stills or footage of us from the camera in
the bar, I could have got out of it, but this? I didn’t want to be forced into telling
Luc about Tristan, I needed to do it in my own time, but she was only giving me
two weeks if I didn’t do as she asked. Shit! I sifted through the other
documents, a copy of his birth certificate with father unknown listed, but the
date of birth highlighted. Copies of the hotel records showing I was in Paris
at a time conducive to conception. This was going to prove difficult to fight.
She was right, with him being so close to me every weekend, rarely seen out of
his suite, it would look as if we’d continued a secret affair. I covered my
mouth in horror as I saw a mock-up of the newspaper headline she planned to
have released and it was dated next week, not the end of the month.

‘So,’ came her smug voice. ‘You will see that I
am serious. But you no longer have two weeks, I demand your compliance within
one. The ball is in your court, Miss McQueen. His reputation, or yours.’

‘I need two weeks,’ I replied without looking
up at her.

‘Non! I have been patient enough and you have
no leverage to bargain with here. You either fuck him, like the
putain
you are, for the fee of two million pounds, or I ruin both of you with this
press release.’

‘I won’t accept your money,’ I snapped, as I
rose up to face her. ‘I don’t want a penny from you, what you’re doing is disgusting
and despicable.’

‘Too late. I have already paid a twenty-five
percent deposit to your client holding funds, as requested in your contract
that your insolent receptionist sent to me when I requested the booking. It was
paid the same day. £500,000. So you cannot argue that you refused to take the
case, for you have sat on these funds for two weeks now without attempting to
return them or cancel our agreement. What is it to be? Fucking or your son’s
pictures on the front page?’

‘He’s a little boy. Surely you’re not so
heartless as to hurt a young child who has never even met his own father
through no fault of his own? This is something that needs to happen gradually,
forcing this on him could have untold psychological effects.’

‘Not my problem,’ she smirked.

‘It’s not his fault,’ I pleaded, battling tears
that were building up, threatening to burst from my eyes with force.

‘Then you have no choice but to accept the rest
of my money and sleep with my husband. Trust me, it will hardly be a chore.’

‘You must really love him to want to tear him
down this badly and hurt my son in the process,’ I uttered, shaking my head.

‘Love, you speak of love as if it means
something. Power and money are what grease the cogs of life, love is
insignificant, love forces people to make foolish decisions and they have to
live with the consequences. Love means
nothing
.’

‘Because you have never given or received it.
You speak of love as if you know its meaning. You don’t. I thought your heart
was frozen when I first met you, but now I realise that you don’t even have a
heart at all. I’d rather have a life with the love I feel for my son and his in
return and no money or power, than to spend even a minute in your shoes,’ I
retorted. ‘I want you to leave, get out, before I do something I’ll really
regret.’

‘I think you did that the moment you let my
husband stick his unprotected cock inside you.’

‘I’ll
never
regret that,’ I hissed.

‘Regardless, you have made your bed and now you
must suffer the consequences. Fuck him again.’

‘What guarantee do I have that if I do this,
you won’t release that story anyway?’

‘None,’ she smiled, as she reached up and
smoothed her bun. ‘You’ll just have to trust me, much as I trusted my dear
husband to stay faithful. How shocked I will be when pictures of him in your
bed are splashed across the tabloids. It’s truly been a pleasure. I’m looking
forward to our meeting next week.’ She licked the tip of her finger and slowly
smoothed her brow before turning to walk away. I grabbed her arm, forcing her
to stop and look back over her shoulder at me.

‘Give me the two weeks,
please
.’ If she
knew about Luc’s bank meetings she could really screw with his plans, he’d need
more time.

‘I do like this look on you, the look of defeat
and compliance. Evidence in my hands next week or you will suffer the consequences.
Goodbye, Miss McQueen,’ she retorted as she yanked her arm away and stalked out
of my office. I sank onto the sofa and put my head in my hands. I’d gone from
feeling totally in control of this meeting to being placed in this awful
position. I wiped a wet patch on my trousers, wondering what I’d spilt and
realised I had tears streaming down my face. I quickly got up and ran through
to my en-suite and blew my nose, dabbing under my lashes to dry my tears as I
forced myself to breathe slowly. I still had a week to try and fix this. Two
weeks would have been better, but a week was better than nothing. I shook
myself down and walked out and gasped in horror at the sight on my bed. Violet
had laid out my outfit for tonight, my designer dress and the expensive lingerie,
but it was in tatters. It had all been shredded, ripped apart at the seams. It
looked like a wild animal had savaged it with sharp teeth and claws.

‘O my God.
She
did this?’ gasped Violet
behind me. I nodded and burst into uncontrollable tears. I
hated
Myrtille
Le Grand with a passion. Violet quickly put her arms around me and hugged me
tightly. ‘I’m so sorry, this is my fault, I shouldn’t have taunted her.’

‘No, it’s not your fault. I did the same, I
thought I’d covered every angle, that she had no hold over me but I was wrong.
She knows about Tristan.’

‘O God,’ Violet sighed. ‘Surely she’s not using
him in her tactics?’

‘Yes,’ I mumbled as I tried to wipe my tears.

‘What a bitch. We still have two weeks to fix
this right?’

‘One, she’s reduced it to one,’ I replied, as I
straightened up and blew my nose again, angry with myself for letting her get
to me and for not seeing her moves in advance.

‘Go and have a hot shower to de-stress and
start with your hair and makeup, you have a date tonight, you can’t be going
looking all tearful. Leave an alternative outfit with me and I’ll get you some
coffee and chocolate for when you come out.’

‘Thanks, Mum,’ I smiled, gently bumping
shoulders with her.

‘I’ve never seen you cry, it’s upsetting me, go
before I start,’ she ordered.

 

I felt better when I’d freshened up and made a
few calls. This was like any other situation I had to face, there was always a
solution if you took the time to assess and plan a comeback strategy. I
finished my hair and some light makeup, going for fresh and radiant and stepped
out into my bedroom. Violet had laid out a black silk shirt with a gold laser cut
belt and my original shoes with the silk ties to wind up my calves. It was
definitely a hot and sexy look, showing off my long legs and a substantial
portion of my thighs, but just long enough to be decent, provided I didn’t bend
over. I cocked my head as I looked at two black boxes on the bed next to it and
carefully lifted up the lid of the one to see a small typed card.

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