Sweet Obsession (Men of Whiskey Row Book 1) (50 page)

Although disappointed, she recognized it for what it was— a sign for her to get the hell up out of Dodge while she still could. The cat and mouse game he’d played all day with her had strained her nerves to the breaking point; but she’d be damned if she let anyone see her sweat. Swiftly she made her way towards the exit.

“Coast finally cleared eh?” Ian asked, eyes filled with mirth and nibbling on a canapé as he blocked her way. He looked quite dashing in his navy blue suit, his long, silver hair in his signature man bun atop his head. She stopped and gave him a look known to make grown men cry, but he appeared unperturbed, shrugging his shoulders and offering her a nibble.

“Bite me, Gandalf,” Viv said affectionately, leaning in to kiss his offered cheek. “Brunch this Sunday at the usual spot?”

“But of course, my dear,” he, said squeezing her waist and looking over her shoulder. Vivienne turned to follow his warm gaze that was focused on Noelle holding Ruby. Jack had his arms wrapped around both of them. They were surrounded by well-wishers laughing and smiling. For the mother and son dance, he’d spun her around the dance floor to Ben E. King’s “Stand By Me”, and Noelle danced with her father and then Ian to The Temptations “My Girl”
and Coldplay’s “Yellow”.
Vivienne’s heart swelled with love, so happy for her boy and his family. It almost put her in a forgiving mood. Almost.

“You know that our girl is dancing up in heaven, feeling all the love and joy down here, right?” she asked in a choked-up voice, blinking back tears.

Ian cleared his own throat and squeezed her harder, wanting to say more, but feared becoming emotional as well. Instead he said noncommittally, “Better hurry up, Cinderella. Midnight will be upon you soon.”

Vivienne swatted his arm with her beaded clutch and continued on towards the exit, turning one last time to look at her baby girl dancing in the big Swede’s arms. Oh how she wanted to snatch her away and never let her go!  With a sigh, she continued on her way. Tomorrow she would strategize; tonight was for conceding cowardice and fleeing.

As she exited the building and hurried down the steps to her black limo, again there was the brief sense of disappointment that she would not be seeing Alexei.
It really was for the best,
she told herself resolutely, smiling at the driver holding the door open for her.

“Thanks. I need to get to the airport, ASAP,” Vivienne told him crisply and slid into the car. The faster she could put miles between them the better. She stiffened in awareness, registering that she was not alone as the scent of expensive cigars, vetiver, citrus, and something woodsy assailed her senses. Seated across from her, oozing more masculinity and sex appeal than any middle-aged man had a right to, was her insanely handsome, estranged husband; the man that she’d successfully managed to avoid for the last eighteen years.

Alexei Romankov leaned forward in his seat. Triumph gleamed in his gorgeous, blue eyes as he grinned at her, displaying his brilliant, white teeth which were a stark contrast to his deeply tanned skin. The black waves falling across his forehead were streaked lightly with silver as was his neatly-shaped beard.
He was too damn good-looking for his own good and hers,
she thought resentfully, feeling her pulse quickening as she allowed herself the pleasure of drinking up the site of him. His tux fit his big body to perfection, and he looked exactly like what he was, a rich as Midas bastard that expected everyone to jump and do his bidding.

“What’s your hurry, Vivi?” he asked in that deep accented baritone that still made her knees weak and panties wet.
Damn, damn, damn! She was in big trouble.

THE END