The Temptress (7 page)

‘So, my understanding is that you’ve already
had him under surveillance and come up empty handed? You want me to gain entry
to his suite and plant my own surveillance equipment to see if he’s having an
affair?’

‘Non, chérie,’ she laughed, with a wave of her gloved
hand. She leaned forwards as she fixed me with a piercing stare, that made me
involuntarily shiver. ‘I want you to ensure that he
has
an affair.’

‘I’m sorry, I’m a little confused,’ I frowned.
‘For the most part women come to me desperate to have their suspicions proved
wrong, or because they need a large divorce settlement, which will be topped up
if evidence of an affair comes to light, so we make that happen for them. You
appear to want evidence of your husband cheating on you, yet you’re an
incredibly wealthy woman in your own right. I can’t imagine that it’s a share
of his assets that you’re after.’

‘Of course not,’ she replied, with another
laugh and a flick of her hand. ‘I have absolutely no need for his money. You
are discreet, yes? Nothing I say will go further?’

‘Of course not, my business depends on
discretion.’

‘Very well, but if this comes out I shall deny
it and sue you for slander. I come from a well-known ancient family, who have
very strict ideologies. The sanctity of marriage, for one. My husband and I …
how would you put it? Ah yes, a marriage of convenience. A merger of two of
France’s most profitable enterprises. We are a financial force to be reckoned
with. However neither of us wanted each other, it is an empty marriage and the
sex is non-existent. I am a woman with needs, a woman who has been forced to
seek comfort outside of the marital home. I wish to be free to be with my
lover, instead of having to sneak around behind closed windows, you
understand?’

‘I do,’ I nodded, not correcting her use of the
phrase closed windows instead of doors. I was too surprised that she had any sexual
cravings at all, let alone a lover. It beggared belief, but I guess the saying
that there’s someone for everyone, really was true.

‘I cannot simply divorce my husband without
good reason, for a woman to do this would bring shame on my family. But a man
straying? O yes!’ she nodded with a triumphant smile. ‘The scandal of a typical
horny man who cannot keep his penis in his trousers, this would be fitting,
this
would be accepted as a travesty. I would be the poor wounded wife, forced to
seek a divorce after such a catastrophic betrayal. The shame would be apportioned
to him, not to me and I would finally be free.’

‘You say your sex life with Mr. Le Grand is
none existent and you have no evidence of any affairs. Could it simply be that
he is a rare species, a man who is not driven by his sexual urges? If this is
the case, what makes you think that I can convince him to stray, that I can
produce damning evidence to support your claim?’

‘O, you mistake me, chérie. My husband is an
incredibly good looking man and a very sexual being. It is pitiful to see women
swoon at his feet, with no control over their urges around him. His sexual reputation
prior to marriage was legendary. But he is also an honest man. He didn’t want
me, he accepted me because he knew it would solidify his career, give him a
boost up the ladder of success. He also came to me with a wounded and broken
heart, he was not looking for love and neither did he find it, but he honours
his marriage vows nevertheless, because he believes he has to. For a
businessman like my husband, his word is his bond. He has made a name for
himself because he can be trusted. He loses that, he loses his very integrity.
I doubt he could live with himself if he cheated and once word got out his
business would take a hit. Who would trust a man with millions of pounds of
their hard earned cash, if he can’t be trusted when it comes to his own woman?’

‘So you’re looking for evidence to divorce him,
which you are prepared to manufacture, in order to be free of him and you want
to ruin his business and reputation too? It seems as if a divorce is not the
only thing that you are after. You appear to be looking for revenge too.’

‘You are the
morality
police all of a
sudden?’ she spat, her thick French accent punching home some of the words, as
venom flared in her eyes. ‘You take other women’s money to do the same that I
am asking of you, but mine is not good enough?’

‘Of course not,’ I replied, wondering what the
hell I was getting myself into with this woman. She appeared to be a nasty
piece of work. I was used to women wanting a slice of their husbands’ success,
but not to humiliate him, to try and destroy him, especially when he didn’t
even appear to have wronged her. ‘As my client, I’m here to provide you with
the service you require, I’m merely trying to ascertain the facts. It helps me
do my job to the best of my ability. A man who seemingly has a such a strong
conscience, who prides himself in his honesty and one unwilling to break his
marriage vows thus far, may take more than one appointment to break, even for
me.’

‘You have four weeks,’ she replied tartly. ‘That
is all the time I can give you, but I am confident in your abilities
Miss
McQueen.
I will pay you two million pounds to ensure that you have enough “evidence” for
me to leak the story to the press, so I can get started on the divorce
proceedings.’

‘Two million pounds?’ I repeated, stunned. My
cases often ran into the thousands, five digits for sure, on a very rare
occasion six,
never
seven. ‘I assure you that my fees will be nowhere
near that amount.’

‘I am not paying
your
fees,’ she snapped,
fixing me with a glare that said exactly where she saw my standing as a human
being and it wasn’t on an equal footing with her. ‘I am paying you to work
for
me
and me alone for the next four weeks, to achieve my intended aim. For
this contract I will pay you two million pounds. Raul,’ she clicked her fingers
to the man still standing silently behind her. He deposited a contract and a
pen on the table in front of me. I picked it up and read it. It was plain and
simple, there was no fancy legal jargon, but it was a contract that would be
null and void if I didn’t get her what she wanted. If I failed to meet my
deadline, I wouldn’t get a penny and her deposit would have to be returned.
‘Have no fear, Miss McQueen, you will not fail, of this I am certain.’

‘How can you be so sure?’ I asked, for once
doubting my abilities. It had been so long since I’d done this, before Tristan
was born and this man sounded as if he deserved Sainthood for putting up with
not only a sexless marriage, but this awful hard and seemingly emotionless
woman for his wife. If he
still
hadn’t cheated on her, I wasn’t sure
even I could tempt him. Maybe I’d be better sending Dom along. Maybe men were
his fodder of choice and not women.

‘You will succeed, because you are
just
his type. He always had a weakness for beautiful brunettes. One look at you, his
cock will be hard and that overwhelming need to satisfy his repressed sexual
cravings will overtake him. He will not be able to help himself.’

‘You are aware that I don’t have sex with my
clients, no matter what fee is being offered?’ I retorted, as I held her gaze,
wondering how she could be so sure. Her husband had resisted every woman, but she
seemed convinced that I could succeed, where others had failed.

‘I am aware, but what you do with him is none
of my concern,’ she shrugged. ‘I just want evidence, real or fake. I need your
answer, I must leave,’ she announced, standing up abruptly.

I blew out a breath as I looked down at the
piece of paper in front of me, with all those zeros on the end. That would top
up my retirement fund for life. I could retire now if I wanted, or at least
semi-retire. I could spend more time at home with Tristan, more time trying to
have a personal life. Violet was eager for more responsibility, she was capable
and I trusted her. She could take over more of the management reigns here and I
could employ her an assistant of her own. It was a very tempting offer, though
I did feel sorry for the poor unsuspecting Mr. Le Grand. I always did when the
lure was the preferred method for my clients. I had to keep reminding myself
this was my business, much like a defence lawyer or criminal attorney, I was
being paid to do a job, right or wrong wasn’t for me to decide. Granted I’d set
up the business solely with the aim of catching out
actual
cheating
spouses, who deserved what they got, but it had soon become clear that the
bigger market was for the fabricated affairs.
Can’t you find me a daddy so
you can stay at home too?
came Tristan’s little voice, making my mind up. I
picked up the pen and signed. I was going to settle this in one night, not four
damn weeks. One night for two million pounds shouldn’t have taken me a second
to think about.

‘I have one problem,’ I advised, as I tore off
the top copy of the carbonated contract and handed it back to Raul, who slipped
back, like a slimy eel, behind his equally reptilian mistress. For a second I
wondered if he was her lover, they seemed well suited. ‘I have no picture of
your husband, do you have one in your wallet? Or on your phone, that you can
email to me so that I can recognise him at the bar?’

‘Trust me, you will recognise him. He will be
the most handsome, charismatic man you’ve ever laid eyes on. All women will be
looking at him, if they are not already attempting to win him over.’ She swept her
revolting fox fur stole around her throat and an image of that poor fox’s jaw
opening to rip her jugular, flashed in front of my eyes. She’d deserve it.

‘If he’s half the man you claim he is, then
tell me, why do you not want him for yourself?’ I asked, full of curiosity.
Handsome, honest, trustworthy, skilled in bed, what woman wouldn’t want him?
That was even before you took into account his net worth.

‘Would you want to fall in love with a man who
barely registered your very existence? Who was fixated on the past, on the
memory of a love that never was? Who spoke her name in his sleep?’

‘No,’ I replied, with a shake of the head. So
it seemed he did have some short comings. A man like that was best steered
clear of, nothing could eradicate the pain of knowing you weren’t his first
choice.

‘Exactement,’ she bit. ‘Bring me good news and
soon, Miss McQueen. Don’t let me down, we both have a lot at stake here.’

‘Of course, Mrs. Le Grand,’ I nodded, opening
the door.

‘You’d better get your wheels on, it is nearly
seven o’clock already.’

‘Skates,’ I retorted, unable to hold back the
correction. She raised a haughty eyebrow at me, then turned and stalked down
the corridor, the creepy, silent Raul hot on her tail. I shuddered. Damn her,
if it wasn’t such a large, life changing amount of money, I’d have told her
where to go. I had to think of Tristan though, of what this would mean to us as
a family. I returned to my desk and stopped the recording, running it back to
check it had worked. That was one I definitely didn’t want to lose. I pressed
the intercom for reception.

‘Hello, Lulu,’ Violet answered brightly. I
smiled, “Lulu” meant I was free to talk, Mrs. Le Grand had already left. “Miss
McQueen” meant that we had visitors or staff loitering within earshot.

‘Why the hell hasn’t Ian provided me with
pictures?’

‘It wasn’t Ian who got the file together, it
was one of his interns. Ian and his team are on an urgent job for someone else
at the moment.’

‘Have you rung to chase them?’ I asked.

‘Yes, but I only got through to the intern
again, he sounded flustered and assured me that they’ll be emailed over
shortly. I’m not holding out much hope.’

‘Damn it. Nothing on Google?’ I asked, I hated
going in blind.

‘I’m so sorry but I haven’t had a chance to
look. There was a slight crisis with the Adam’s case that Frankie’s currently working.
I’m on top of it, nothing for you to worry about, but I need to get back to
helping her. I can fill you in tomorrow. Hilda has put your outfit, wig and
lenses in your bedroom, Henry’s kitted out Mike with all of the surveillance,
as well as putting a microphone and camera in your clutch. Mike’s ready and
waiting in his workshop, wearing a suit no less, with the Merc on standby. Go
and get ready and make it fast.’

‘Message received and understood, Miss
Moneypenny,’ I laughed. I hung up and rushed to the bedroom to get changed,
emerging ten minutes later with brown eyes, short bobbed blonde hair and my
sexy, but obviously classy little black dress. Being in a hotel bar, dressed
up, alone, I didn’t want to be mistaken for a hooker. I quickly turned the file
on my desk around, I hadn’t even seen the client’s christian name. No name and
no photo. I’d never been so unprepared. I sighed as I saw his name was Lucas,
Lucas Le Grand. My mind was instantly taken back to my own Frenchman, my one
night stand, that it seemed no other man would ever live up to, Luc. I wondered
what he was doing now, if he ever thought about me the way I thought about him,
far more frequently than was healthy. This Mr. Le Grand’s financials showed
that he liked modern art, having spent a fortune on some pieces, so I grabbed
my favourite modern art book off my well stocked book shelf, then my clutch and
made my way to the door. I had a job to do, reminiscing could wait until I was
tucked up in bed, with a battery operated object if my memories turned me on
too much.

Which they always did.