Wicked Liar by Faith Summers

Chapter Eight

Candace

Gentle jazz music envelopes us as the waiters place two little bowls of crème brûlée on our table.

I thank them as they clear away the empty plates that used to contain the to-die-for two-course meal of salmon rillettes and French roast beef with spring vegetables.

Of course, Jacques arranged for us to eat on the rooftop of the restaurant. In the mingle of the moonlight and the ambient glow of the amber lights around us, he looks striking. Deadly handsome and completely interested in me.

I came prepped to talk about Bordeaux. That’s where Jacques grew up and spends most of his time when he’s away. Located in the South West of France, Bordeaux is world-famous for its vineyards and elegant wine. Château Belmont with its impressive 50 hectares of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot grapes on the six hundred-year-old vineyard has had its own contribution to that fame.

Since I went to Bordeaux a few times and loved it, I could carry on a pleasant conversation with ease.

Jacques watches me as I dip my spoon into my crème brûlée and take a bite. It’s delicious, but I’m full and I can’t possibly eat any more. It’s also time for me to go home. I’d allowed two hours exactly minus travel time, just as a way of keeping him on his toes.

His lips arch into a grin when he sees me attempting another bite and giving up.

“I didn’t think you’d be able to eat that, but I’m impressed you tried,” he states.

“Thank you. I hate wasting great food.” I take a sip of the sweet wine. It too is gorgeous, but I’ve forgotten the name. It was he who ordered it for me.

“Great food? It’s good to hear you think so. This restaurant holds my grandfather’s recipes. He’s a man who appreciates flavor. Just like me.”

I don’t miss the way his gaze roams over my body, his eyes undressing me.

“Wow, well, I can’t exactly dispute that. You do.” I nod with a little smile and set my spoon down. “Much as I’d love to stay and try to finish my gorgeous dessert, I have to dash.”

My words have the exact result I hoped for. Curiosity and surprise fill his eyes, and it’s clear he can’t figure me out. I’ve said everything he’s not used to, and most of all I haven’t thrown myself at him. It’s been him chasing me this whole time, making quite the effort.

“Dash? As in go home?”

“It’s a work night,” I reply, and he laughs.

“And since when has a work night been reason enough to cut an evening short?”

“Mr. Belmont, I take my work very seriously.”

“I can see that mademoiselle; Massimo is very lucky to have you. I’m just trying to remember the last time a woman told me she had to dash because it’s a work night.”

I humor him with laughter. “Well, it’s not every day you meet a girl like me.”

“No, it certainly is not.” That twinkle comes back to his eyes as he takes me in with admiration. “There’s no way under the sun you’ll agree to go home with me tonight, is there?”

Underneath the table, I clutch on to the edge of my dress and plaster that smile of confidence on my face.

“No, Mr. Belmont. There is not.”

His smile turns up a notch, and he rests his elbows on the table. “Why? Why not?”

“You’re going to have to do more work than coffee and dinner to get me to your house.”

“What if the bulk of my work is reserved for the bedroom?”

I’m not surprised by that comment. Not even a little. As such, I’m able to keep a straight face. Beneath the mask of that face, though, I’m almost grateful this isn’t real. Not a real date and not a real guy I’m interested in. If any part of this was real, this would be the part where my memories of Dominic would prevent me from going further than coffee and dinner.

Once I sleep in this beast’s bed, however, it won’t matter if anything was real or not.

“Jacques, I’m terribly sorry to inform you that I need more than that to get to your bedroom.” I brighten my smile.

“You’re going to have to help me out then. Looks like I need ideas.”

I know just what to say. I’ve been thinking about it since I got here. It’s not exactly easy to throw in the matter of the auction, especially when we both know what kind of auction it is. But now that the seeds have been sown, it’s time to water them and go in for the kill.

“I’m taking part in the Decadent Auction on Saturday,” I answer, and the smile falls from his face. I know straightaway it’s not because he’s unhappy to hear that. It’s because of the element of competition he’ll have. “I know you’re going. Aren’t you?”

He narrows his eyes. “I am. That sort of thing doesn’t seem like your type of event.”

“It’s not, but it’s for charity and I thought I’d have some fun along the way.”

“You are aware of why the men will be bidding on you?”

“I’m very aware. I just don’t think you’d allow anyone else to bid on me and win.”

Now the smile comes back to his eyes. “You’re going to make me bid on you?”

I give him a nonchalant shrug and take another sip of my drink. “It makes it more interesting, don’t you think?”

“It does but I might be broke by the time the night is out.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

His eyes drop to my breasts as I take one last sip. When his eyes lock with mine and they fill with ravenous hunger, I know I have him wrapped around my finger.

“Thank you for dinner. I really do have to head out now,” I add.

“I’m away for most of next week. Join me again for dinner tomorrow,” he says, ignoring my comment.

“Dinner again? Mr. Belmont, that sounds like you’re really trying hard to get me in your bed,” I coo.

“I am. Not working?”

“Nope.”

“Mademoiselle Ricci, I don’t think I’ve ever had to work this hard to get any woman in my bed.”

“I believe you.”

He smirks. “Okay, let’s do this. Lunch. A lunch date.”

“Lunch?” Wow. This is perfect.

“Lunch on Thursday. No sex. That way we can save the discussion of sex for the auction when I win you for thirty days, and nights. How does that sound, Mademoiselle Ricci?”

“Perfect,” I answer. It sounds perfect, everything except any discussion of sex. But I’ll do what I have to do. I rise to my feet and give him a sassy, sexy smile that makes his eyes darken with desire.

“Perfect.” He reaches for my hand and when I give it to him, he kisses it in his habitual way.

When he releases me, I give him one last smile and saunter away with my shoulders back and chin lifted high. His hawk eyes follow me, watching every step I take, burning into my body as I walk through the door. Even when I know he can’t see me anymore, I still feel the sexually charged effects of his lingering stare.

That means I’m one step closer to where I need to be. This man undoubtedly wants me in his bed. There's no mistake that I now have him hooked. I should feel better, but there’s an unnerving, almost eerie vibe about him I can’t shake.

It reminds me of the nightmares and secrets from the past I want to keep secret, buried, and forgotten.

I would be inclined to think I’m hyper-aware because Dominic is back, but it’s not that. It’s something specific to Jacques that warns me to keep my head above water. Maybe it's because he reminds me of Uncle Lucas, a man who wore a mask he showed the world.

Stringing a man like Jacques along is playing with fire.

I just hope I don’t get burned.