Tempted by Fate (The Fate Trilogy Book Two)
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Authors: Sherilyn Gray
Tempted by Fate
The Fate Trilogy Book Two
by
Sherilyn Gray
Copyright © 2013
All
rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or
transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or
other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of
the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical
reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
Copyright © 2013
All characters appearing in this
work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.
Warning: This work contains
scenes of graphic sexual nature and it is written for adults only(18+). All
characters depicted in this story are over 18 years of age.
Victor guided me across the ballroom toward
the entrance to the chateau in a flurry of quick steps, his hand steering at my
lower back. All around us, small groups of well-dressed people were mingling,
champagne flutes in hand. It was hard to miss her and impossible to ignore her.
She stood above most of the room—she was nearly as tall as Victor in her
heels—and her radiant blonde hair hovered over a perfect hourglass-shaped body.
She wore an elegant cream dress with intricate bead work all around, and a
beautiful blue pendant hung around her neck to top the outfit off. Every male
gaze in the room converged on her presence.
So that was Victor’s ex-wife.
The jewels around my neck that had made me
feel so gorgeous moments earlier now felt heavy and fraudulent. I felt like a
phoney next to this woman, who oozed class and beauty in a way foreign not just
to me, but to almost everyone else in the room. If that was the past I was
competing with in Victor’s heart, I was doomed to fail. My heart sank like a
stone just looking at her.
Victor dragged me out of the chateau and into
the cool night air toward the limo parked in the circular drive out front.
Shuffling so quickly in heels was beginning to make my feet hurt. I was tempted
to take my shoes off and walk in my bare feet at this rate, but we were almost
to the vehicle.
Questions swarmed my mind. Who was she? What
had happened? The fierce look on Victor’s face told me that he didn’t want to
talk about it. I bit my lip as I thought about his ex-wife, with her beautiful,
classy appearance and perfect demeanor. She had held herself with absolute
confidence at the party. An unsettling feeling coiled in my stomach as I
thought about my jealousy. I had just entered this high-society world and here
his ex-wife looked like she owned it.
It didn’t surprise me that he had been with
other women in his life. The expert way he made love to me was proof enough of
that. And with his fashion sense, good looks, and irresistibly attractive
"don't mess with me" attitude, it would be crazy for women not to be
attracted to him. It was just the fact that it had to be
this
woman. She
was too perfect. I thought of our lessons in manners in the restaurant. I’m
sure
she
didn’t need that. She probably taught him some things.
We got to the limo and, without a word,
Victor opened the door and hopped in, not even waiting for the driver to open
it for him. I followed close behind. He reached over me to pull the door shut
as soon as I sat down.
After a few moments, he realized the driver
was not in the front seat. He lunged over to the other side of the limo and and
threw the door open to peek his head out. “What’s the problem?” he barked. The
anger in his voice startled me; I froze in my seat as though he would turn
towards me and breathe fire. His stormy blue eyes were blazing as his jaw
ground tightly.
The limo driver’s eyes peered up over the
opened car door. “I am sorry,
monsieur
,” he said in a heavy French
accent. “The front left tire is flat. You must wait until I install a spare.”
Victor closed his eyes and inhaled sharply,
then exhaled and sat back in his seat. When he opened his eyes, they were fixed
dead in front of him, seemingly boring a hole through the car’s front seat. I
didn’t even think of speaking.
“I am fixing it right now,
monsieur
.
It will take just a little bit more time. I am sorry.” With that, the
door closed.
A moment later, I heard someone tapping on
Victor’s side of the car. Victor exhaled sharply again and glanced out the
window.
“Victor, is that you?” a voice outside asked.
It was small and sweet.
Victor grimaced before turning his head
towards the window and lowering it a crack. “Evelyn,” he said pleasantly. He
glanced at me. “Stay here,” he whispered.
He got out, and I craned my neck around just
in time to see him hug the same gorgeous, blonde woman I had seen earlier. She
was standing next to a young man around my age. He was slightly shorter than
Victor with dark brown hair and pretty green eyes. The smile on his face looked
plastered on and perfect.
“What brings you to France?” Evelyn asked,
still holding on to Victor’s hand. Victor pulled it away firmly and smiled.
“Last minute trip. Business and pleasure, of
course. I had some things to take care of in Paris."
Yeah, like making me his proper plaything. I
was more than a little bit jealous knowing that this woman had past connections
with Victor. Even if they weren’t married anymore, they would still have a
bond, a history together. I didn’t just not have a history with Victor, I
didn’t have much of a history at all. Not that I could remember, at least. Or
cared to. What was Victor like when they were married?
“I don’t think I ever properly introduced you
to Timothy,” Evelyn said. Two dimples appeared on her cheeks as she smiled. She
was such a natural, I couldn’t even tell how much she was faking this
cordiality. If at all. “Timothy, this is Victor Draper.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Draper,” Timothy
said. Victor nodded and gave his hand a solid shake. I thought of Victor’s
powerful hands and wondered just how firm that shake was. A cell phone rang,
and Timothy reached into his tuxedo jacket’s inner pocket. “Excuse me,” he said
politely. He walked back toward the chateau.
Victor watched Timothy walk for a moment
until he was out of earshot. “So, you got married again.”
Evelyn glanced down at the diamond ring on
her finger and smiled. “He’s a good man. He treats me well.”
Victor shifted his weight and leaned against
the door, his back blocking my view of Evelyn and her view of me. So he didn't
have plans to introduce me to her. I knew he didn’t have an obligation to, but
I still felt tears beginning to well up and had to fight them back. If he saw
me crying, it would further the distance he had been carefully maintaining. I
couldn’t let him see how much this hurt.
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said flatly.
“We should go out to lunch while you’re
here.” Her voice was still so sweet.
“That won’t work this trip. I’m flying out
tomorrow. Maybe some other time.”
“Victor,” she said, “are you avoiding me?” I
could hear the first note of unpleasantness in her voice. “Despite what
happened, I don't want any bad blood between us.”
“Evelyn, of course I’m not avoiding you. The
past is the past.” His voice had an edge I had never heard before. The control
in every syllable was off-putting. “You put it in a box, lock it up, and forget
it.”
“Forget it? We had so many great times, we
loved each other!”
He shrugged against the glass of the limo
door. “Never crosses my mind.”
“So that’s it.” Her voice drained of any
personality at all. “Like it never happened?”
“Doesn’t matter. There’s always another
pretty young thing.”
Was that what I was? Another in a series of
pretty young things for Victor’s pleasure? Was that how he looked at Evelyn? I
couldn’t imagine how anyone could compartmentalize like that. Except me, I
guess. My past was a locked box. But that was different, I couldn’t open mine.
Before Evelyn could reply, the limo driver
walked up to Victor. “The tire is fixed
monsieur
; we can leave any
time.”
“I’m leaving, Evelyn. Good to see you.”
A pause. “Likewise,” she said, coolly. I
heard heels tapping quickly away and I turned in time to watch her heading in
the direction of the chateau, probably for more champagne.
The door opened and Victor slid back into the
passenger seat. He let out a long breath. I stared at him silently as he
massaged his temples.
I stared at him like that for a couple
minutes, but he wouldn’t look back at me. Finally, he broke. “Her name is
Evelyn.” He still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “We were married for a few years.”
“What happened?”
He finally turned his head so that I could
see his profile. His lips were set in a stern line before he spoke. “She left
me. I was working too much, not paying attention to her. Looks like she’s found
someone who will.” He stared at a patch of the leather seat next to him for a
few seconds, then turned his eyes back to the front of the limo.
So his mother left, then his wife left. And
now here I was, sitting next to him in a limo in France. With a contract.
Someone who couldn’t leave him. I wanted to put my arms around him and kiss him
and tell him I wasn’t going anywhere, but I doubted he wanted sympathy. His
presence at that moment had an intensity unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
He looked vulnerable and raw, but that exposure was not of a precious center
but something more violent.
I snuck my head under his arm and put my ear
to his chest. After a moment’s hesitation, he squeezed me to him very tightly.
I was amazed at the strength he had in just that one arm. It was almost
uncomfortable, but more than anything I felt safe in his embrace.
“I’m going to fuck you when we get back to
the hotel,” he said without a hint of emotion. I looked up at him, the mass of
the updo I had worn to the ball pushing into his arm and restricting my head’s
movement. I wriggled free of his arm and studied his face. He looked like a
statue.
“Yes, Sir. Okay.” What was he going to do
once we got back to the room? Tie me up? Blindfold me? Spank me? Did I deserve
to be spanked? I began getting wet as I realized I didn’t even know all the possibilities.
After a moment he turned to me and nodded,
then pulled me back in close to him. As he turned to look out my window, I saw
a blue flash in his eyes.
Before long, the limo slowed to a stop in
front of the hotel. Victor got out before Henri could open the door for him. He
walked over to my side of the car, opened the door, and took me by my hand
forcefully. Without saying anything, he led me into the hotel, passed the
reception desk, and punched the UP button by the elevator. I trembled being so
close to him, wondering what would happen once we got to the room. Stewing in
his bad mood, he had an animal sexuality clawing out from his fancy evening
suit that amplified the tension between us.
When the elevator door opened, we waited for
a few people to trickle out before he guided me inside. He followed after me
and quickly pressed our floor number. I heard a dull
ding
before the
door closed. As soon as it had, he was on me, kissing my mouth but then quickly
moving down to my neck and chest. His hand travelled roughly up my leg until he
found my wet panties. Using his other hand, he picked me up so I could sit on
the gold railing along the elevator wall. I clasped my hands around his neck
for balance and dug my nails in just under his hair when he began moving his
fingers in slow circles on my pussy through my underwear.
Within seconds my panties went from wet to
soaked. Victor moved from kissing my neck up to my ear. “You’re ready for me
already,” he said, sliding a finger around the side of my underwear and into my
slit easily.
I reached down to his crotch and found his
cock was nearly bursting through his pants. “Looks like I’m not the only one.”