Page 25 of Falling for Paris
“Why haven’t you asked me to come to do a wine tasting, Rafael?” The food critic and wine connoisseur, Marcus Sol, complained. “We can organize pairings and—”
“Next time,” Rafael interrupted because he didn’t have time for the man’s bullshit. In fact, Marcus had declined Patrice’s invitation when they finalized the rushed arrangements. There was no doubt as to why Marcus was suddenly interested in showing off his expertise.
“In that case, I’ll have to prepare a private demonstration tonight forMademoiselleVictoria.” The asshole had the nerve to cradle her elbow and urge her to a nearby table. “Will you join me?”
Victoria looked surprised, her flushed cheeks radiant despite the dimly lit room. Her eyes flashed towards Rafael and to his everlasting shame, he shrugged. The disappointment on her face was like a punch in the gut. Meanwhile, Marcus had pulled back a chair and called a server in one smooth, sweeping gesture. Rafael realized that the only thing worse thannotspending the night with her was watching her spend it with someone else.
Forcing a tight smile to go with his curt nod, Rafael retreated to the bar. The rare times he drank alcohol, it was never in public. Tonight, he would.
Her heart dropped in disappointment when Rafael walked away.
She didn’t take his call today because she didn’t think she could be casual on the phone. Her body felt raw from the memory of his touch. Hearing his voice on the phone would have broken down her walls. She couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t beg him to come over. After sending him to pick up condoms.
Tori looked around the elegant restaurant with its tastefully paneled walls and sparkling chandeliers. Marcus picked a table smack in the middle of the establishment, giving her a comprehensive view of the jazz ensemble on one end and the bar on the other. Where Rafael was headed.
She willed herself not to care. If he would rather be with his friends than with her, who could blame him? They all gushed at every word he said. Each step towards his destination was impeded by one guest after another giving him a hug. More than one woman pressed herself against his solid frame. Everyone was in their element, moving through the sophisticated atmosphere as if it was their birthright. And perhaps it was.
She, on the other hand, struggled to register Marcus’s lecture on wine regions and cherry tints and summer undertones.Taste this, savor that, sip slowly,went the sommelier. Tori needed something to settle her nerves so she tasted alright. And savored and sipped some more.
She conquered her nerves but lost a different kind of battle. The lies she told herself refused to hold up.
She didnotwant Rafael to look at her like he did last night. What a terrible idea to approach him at the bar and slip between his legs, her arms around his neck. Tori wasnotlonging to taste his lips. It didnotoccur to her to massage his hand under the excuse of providing comfort. There was absolutely zero—less than zero—yearning to touch him, smell him, feel him.
Lies, lies, lies.
“Let’s dance,” she blurted out to Marcus, refusing to give in to the magnetic pull of Rafael across the room.
A wolfish grin accompanied the man’s practiced movements. She allowed herself to be led farther away from Rafael. Marcus inched closer when they approached the impromptu dance floor where a handful of couples swayed. The moment the man wrapped his arm around her back, Tori stiffened. Because this wasn’t the arm she wanted, or the body she craved, or the man she belonged to.Wait, what?!
Alcohol shoved reason aside and made room for foolish thoughts. Foolishness that masqueraded as truth slammed into her, blurring her vision but sharpening her sense of the situation.Only Rafael could make this right.
It took all of her power to resist seeking him out, calling his name, and running into his arms. His dominating certainty and crude demands, his undeniable power and complete attention. She wanted all of it. She wanted him to Make. This. Right.
Where are you, dammit? How can you easily turn away when you should claim me? Take me away and call me your angel.
A sultrier song began and Marcus pulled her closer. She tried to find pleasure in his heat. He was gently holding her hip but their chests began the grazing that awakened two people to each other. Yet it was the memory of Rafael that made her nipples harden.
How could Rafael possess Tori so completely last night and watch another man hold her? And she justknewRafael was watching. Fine, let him watch.
Marcus’s breath fell on her neck, the hand on her hip moving languidly. It would have been so easy to melt into a night of dancing and drinking in Paris. She closed her eyes and tried to go through the motions. Tried not to obsess about how quickly Rafael could go from searing heat to cold indifference.
Moving distractedly, Tori recalled all the moments that Rafael had left her feeling confused and disappointed: when the chef claimed not to recognize her, when he reprimanded her in class, when he shut her out last night. And tonight, when he turned his back.It was so easy for him to turn his back.
But then she thought about Rafael dancing with another woman, the way she was dancing now, and something in her screamed:Cheating! This was cheating!She pushed Marcus’s chest abruptly to extricate herself from his grasp.
“I’m sorry, I forgot I need to, um, make a call.”
The man looked surprised but shrugged good naturedly. “It was a pleasure, Victoria. Come find me later, if you are not busy.”
“I will,” she answered politely.
Marcus’s eyes flicked over her shoulder. She spun around knowing what she would find. Rafael.
“She’ll be busy,” the man announced, dismissing Marcus with a glance while glaring at her. Like a scorned god, Rafael looked down, full of authority and judgment. Fireworks awoke under Tori’s skin at the sight of his anger. Rafael’s neck muscles were strained, his nostrils flared, and his lips pressed in a hard line. He was angry and it was fucking hot.
So was her temper. She prepared to launch into all of the ways he had no right to speak for her. In fact, she was so mad, she was even angry about the fact that sheimaginedhim with another woman. She took a deep breath, ready to unload her wrath, but then his features changed. There were traces of exasperation that matched hers. Yet more than anything, Rafael looked miserable. Pained.
“Are you OK? Are you hurting?” She couldn’t help it. If he was feeling the onrush of his illness, she needed to know.
