“Think no more of him.” Cyprien took her hand and led her to look up at him. “I am here to bring you new delights.”
Laughing, she leaned toward him and gave him a glimpse down her bodice. She wanted a barrier between her and Vaillancourt. “Onward, then!”
But she needn’t lure Cyprien. His eyes were already eating her up. His lips were wet, his mouth already salivating. And she knew why, too. Her full breasts were one enticement. The other was the latest rumor about her. And she had not fabricated it.The whole of it was true. In fact, her majordom implied today that the first consul liked such tales told abroad of his masculine prowess. Or in her case, the man’s greater attention to his work than to her.
“I trust you, monsieur. There are so few true gentlemen.” She sniffed. Bonaparte was one. Certainly he had not exhibited anything to her other than his boorishness. That she was glad of it and proud she’d escaped his bed were added boons. Vaillancourt was a different breed of cat.
“The rumor is damaging to the fellow who was rude. You saved yourself.”
Cyprien spoke of Bonaparte. She nodded. “A lady must. I hope others see it my way.”
He was so bold as to lay a hand on her cheek. “They do. I do. Now you will allow me to repair all of your sensibilities,ma cherie. First, a little wine.” Cyprien arched a thinly plucked silver brow, and a footman appeared. He swept two crystal flutes from the tray and placed one in her hand. The touch of his fingers to her own repulsed her.
She would not show it, and looked deeply into his tiny eyes and leaned toward him like a coquette. “I am hungry too.”
“What would you like?” he crooned, his tone salacious, and her skin prickled.
Not you, was her first thought. Then, before thinking, she blurted, “Beef.”
And he took it as risqué, throwing back his head to laugh. “Well,voilà!If you wish such sustenance, I can give it to you. Come.”
She swallowed hard as he led her through an inner vestibule and into a small octagonal room with mirrors from floor to ceiling on each wall. “Oh, this is spectacular!”And not designed for dining, is it?
His beady eyes widened with pleasure. “A room of many delights. Tonight it is to showcase my chef’s supper menu.”
“How grand!” She could guess what the room usually showcased. Charmaine had been succinct with her instructions about many in Society, especially Cyprien. But to Viv’s relief, tonight the round supper table at the center of the room was piled high with hot and cold dishes, small crudities and rolls of meats dressed in herbs and spices. Pastries in pastel icings and gateaux dripping in chocolate and raspberry sauces were arranged in colorful display. The offerings on the platters could feed an army.
“Astonishing array,” she managed, and patted Cyprien’s arm. But her instinct that he’d accept her gesture as friendship was wrong. He swung around before her, two hands now to her bare shoulders, and pressed himself against her. She stared at him, shock chilling her. “I—I’m sorry, monsieur. Did I give you the impression—?”
He leaned over her, towered, in fact, and moved one hand from her shoulder across her bare chest to lift her chin. “You are no innocent.”
His whisper only served to make her heart beat like a drum. “Please…” She tried to pull away, her fright no pretense.
He grinned, the satyr, and put his palm flat against the bare skin of her chest. “Charmaine,ma tigresse. I have heard of your preferences.”
Viv was no tigress. But her sister had had her hungers—and satisfied them liberally. Viv had known there were those in Paris who might catch her in their claws, thinking she was Charmaine.
“Ma belle, you are excited.”
Terrified.
He settled his hips against her own. “I am complimented.”
“Monsieur.” She felt his interest rise too high and hard against her skirts.
He pressed closer, his personal musk, thick and cloying, making her gulp back despair. “You are no virgin.”
“Monsieur,” she said as she stiffened and stared him in the eye, “neither am I some lamb to be led to your lair.”
“Forgive me.” He backed away, chastised for now. “I was too enraptured and stand corrected. In the flesh, though, you are quite irresistible.”
She smiled, giving by her ease a sense that she forgave him. “You are kind.”
“Many a man would love to describe your beauty in detail.”
She looked up into his cool little eyes. Pretending to find him attractive was a chore. “Few have said the right words.”
“I wish to try.”
