AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She'd never been the clingy type, but then I didn't know her, did I? Maybe this was who she was, needy and clingy. And when she didn’t get her away, she sulked. This wouldn't work. She needed to know that she'd have to handle herself and be independent.
But she is independent; a voice inside my head mocked me.She only needs you now because she's nervous about being around her father's people.
"Duncan, how are you, darling?" The wife of one of the richest men in Europe swamped me with her perfume and an inappropriate hug. I'd done business with her husband and had been clear about my disinterest in being her bedmate. She and her mister had an open marriage. I'd told her that I preferred to pay for sex.Used to prefer paying for sex, I reminded myself, because now all I could see and want was Elsa.
I glanced in her direction and was satisfied to see she was with Dean and Emilia. She was smiling. I felt relief course through me as I focused on the people I needed to talk to, people who, like me, had a foot in the legal world and the not-so-legal one as well.
Chapter 21
Elsa
The reception was in full swing, filled with conversation and laughter. I chatted with a few guests, trying to push down my anxiety. Duncan had just left me. I hadn't expected it. He’d been attentive since the start of our marriage, so him walking away when he knew how insecure I felt being here was a shock.
I went to the restroom and relaxed for a little bit in the luxurious handicap bathroom. When I came out and began to look for someone familiar to be with, I felt a presence beside me.
I turned to find Pascal Fournier, my father's man from Marseille, standing uncomfortably close. His cold, predatory eyes bore into mine, and a chill swept over me.
"Bonsoir,Elsa,"Pascal said, his voice oozing false charm. "You look lovely tonight." He took my hand firmly, not letting me pull away, kissed the back of it, and winked.
I pulled my hand away, hating that he thought he had a right to touch me.
I had met him once, a long time ago when I'd come to my father's house and he'd been there. Even then, he'd made my skin crawl—and when I started to suspect Papa would want me to marry him, I'd gotten rid of my virginity real quick. A man like Pascal Fournier, I believed, wanted an untouched wife. I was wrong. He wanted to be my father's heir a whole lot more. So, when I found out I was pregnant, it was a relief. Marrying Duncan had been another.
"Bonsoir,MonsieurFournier," I replied curtly, taking a step back.
"Call me Pascal,ma chérie. Married life looks good on you." He looked at me head to toe, his perusal unabashedly sexual as it lingered on my breasts. "So does motherhood."
"Thank you." I looked around, wanting to escape desperately.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "I like pregnant women; they're so horny, don't you agree?"
I froze. "MonsieurFournier—"
"Just Pascal,ma chérie. You were supposed to be mine. Your father promised me your hand. But now, you're married to that Archer boy. It's a shame. But don't think for a second that I've given up."
My heart pounded in my chest, fear gripping me. "What does that mean?"
Pascal smiled maliciously. "I have nothing against widows."
I knew what he was capable of. I wasn't stupid. I knew what Papa did, and I knew what happened in his world. Mamman had been explicit, which was why I was frightened of it. I looked around, desperately looking for Duncan.
Help me, damn it!! Where are you?
"Oh, he's busy talking to Giselle," he whispered in his rasping creepy voice, "she's a model andshe fucks for money. I hear your husband also likes to fuck for money."
I pulled myself together when I saw Duncan laughing at something a beautiful woman who had a hand on his arm said to him.
"MonsieurFournier," I began smoothly, "My husband and who he fucks is none of your business."
He chuckled darkly. "We'll see about that,ma chérie."
I smiled sweetly. "The thing you need to think about,Monsieur, is what he'll do to you when I tell him how rude and insulting you are being to me."
Pascal arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm afraid of your husband?" he growled.
"If you're not, you should be. You know that whole Archer Art & Antiquities is just a cover, don't you?" I had no idea what I was saying, but I wanted to bring this man a peg or two or three down. "My husband canfuck youup, so—"
"Elsa, there you are!" I turned to see Vincent; his father was a regular at Délices d'Elsa. He gave me a quick hug and then looked at Pascal like a worm beneath his shoes. "Fournier."
