Page 24 of Falling for Paris
The rest of the evening with Victoria was pleasant. So much so he wasn’t sure if he’d imagined the heat of their passion. Because whatever happened in bed did not continue outside the apartment. They didn’t touch while they walked. They chose dinner at a casual bistro instead of a romantic restaurant. She sat across from him.
Still, he found himself riveted by the stories of her travels. He talked about his garden in Le Vésinet which was rare, even with old friends. Rafael had to admit he enjoyed himself. He had forgotten the contentment of being with a woman easy to talk to, whose opinions were confident without being conceited.
He was also made more conscious of his own condescending tendencies. He liked that she made him aware of them. Too many people tiptoed around Rafael, increasing rather than appeasing his irritation.
Waking up that morning and thinking of his residence outside of Paris, he decided he must return home for the rest of the weekend. He needed, more than anything, the comfort of familiar environments in which he didn’t have to hide from his own limitations. He no longer feared the pain. Rafaelmanagedpain. But exerting that effort in front of people? No one had to witness his struggle.
Also, an hour train ride separating Paris from Le Vésinet ensured he wouldn’t accidentally-on-purpose stroll into Victoria’s neighborhood.
His musings were interrupted by a sharp ring. He tried not to be disappointed to see that it was Frederick instead of…
“Salut,” he answered before finishing his thought.
“Helena m’a dit que tu venais ce soir. C’est merveilleux!”The birthday boy imparted the false news that Rafael was attending that night’s party. Helena’s fault.
“Non, je ne serai pas la,”he corrected before continuing in French, “Sorry to miss the celebration, my friend, but Helena is mistaken.”
“That’s unfortunate,” Frederick mused. “I hope she’s not wrong about Victoria coming, however.”
“Victoria?”HisVictoria?
“Your student! You know Helena. When she learned the lovely woman was alone in the city, she gave her the details tonight. I hope she makes it.”
A growl accompanied Rafael’s words as he pushed past gritted teeth. “Send me the information again.”
Frederick’s snicker would have infuriated Rafael had he heard it.
***
In the middle of Montmartre, at the foot of Sacré-Cœur Basilica, the restaurantIncendie du Châteauwas closed but full. That is, closed to the public but filled to capacity with the social elite of Paris’s culinary scene. After the usual greetings and handshakes and air kisses, Rafael settled on an uncomfortable bar stool as far from the music as possible. Facing the front door, he waited.
He called Tori that afternoon, thinking to chat about the evening’s event and maybe offer to share a ride with her. She hadn’t answered her phone and he hadn’t left a message. It was normal for him to call, right? After all, she washisstudent.
And your angel,the devil on his shoulder prodded.Mon ange.
Then, Victoria Espinoza entered wearingtheblack dress. For a stupid moment, Rafael’s brain wondered:is it closed at the back?!
When she hugged Helena by the door, he confirmed with relief that the dress was zipped up. She must have exchanged it for the right size. The perfect size to hug her curves, skim her thighs, and cradle her full breasts.
Another stupid thought: why didn’t he bury his head between her tits last night?Because your head was between her legs, the devil on his shoulder reminded him. His erection reached painful proportions.
It was agony, watching Victoria draw the attention of everyone in the restaurant. Curiosity for the American? Admiration for the woman? Lust? The hors d’oeuvres he tasted earlier churned in his stomach.
He gripped his sparkling water when Frederick led her into a throng of people. More than one of the men pulled her too close while kissing her cheeks, three times as was French custom. A ridiculous and unnecessary convention, he now realized.
He didn’t even remember launching himself at her direction. It wasn’t until he captured a whiff of her honeyed aroma that Rafael realized he was hovering.
“Hi, Chef!” she said cheerily. When he leaned over to kiss her cheeks, a live current sizzled between them. He placed his hands on her hips. He craved to haul her against his chest.Show these bastards who she belongs to, the devil prodded.Mon. Ange.
“You look beautiful,” he said. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“You too. I mean you look beautiful, um, great as well,” she stammered with a baffled expression. “I was under the impression you were heading home today.”
“He was, until he found out you were coming!” Helena’s slurred drivel carried over the sound of chatter. That drew the attention of everyone in their circle.
“I needed to prepare the kitchen before the final week of our course. Might as well be here.” No one bought the lame lie, least of all the intelligent woman wrapped in a black dress.
Graciously, she let it go and changed the subject. “It has been such a wonderful experience. My understanding is that it is unusual to have so many guest chefs?”
