Parisian Affair Read online

  She laughed. 'Well, the only thing he did for me was get me a drink of water,' she replied. 'I didn't spend half the night with him on the dance floor like you did with Candie.'

  'Oh, yeah,' he said mischievously, 'we had a real good time. Especially slow dancing. Getting up real close and personal, you know?'

  'Well, if you're trying to make me jealous, it isn't going to work,' Allegra said. 'Besides, isn't she a lipstick lesbian or something?'

  'Yeah, but I think she's falling for me,' Todd teased.

  She grabbed his hand and bit it playfully. 'You think you're really God's gift to womankind, don't you?'

  'I don't know about that,' he said, 'but there's one woman I sure would like to make happy.' He leaned over and kissed her forehead. When she didn't protest, he kissed her cheeks and nose and lips and ran his hands down her arms, gently and tenderly. 'I love you, Ally,' he said softly. 'I really do.'

  His voice sounded earnest and his words heartfelt, and in the warm glow from the drinks and the gentle caress of his lips and hands, Allegra felt herself respond to him. Despite her mixed feelings about his intentions, she knew that she wanted him.

  Her lips sought out his, and her hand went up to run her fingers through his raven hair. Todd sighed happily and let his hands wander to her breasts, where he brushed against them gently. 'Why don't we get comfortable?' he said.

  'Hmmm.' She slowly sat up, then got to her feet, drink in hand. He picked up his drink and the candles and followed her into the bedroom. He placed the candles and his drink on a bedside table, then took her in his arms, kissing her passionately.

  Allegra slid her arms around him and returned his kisses, losing herself in the comfortable strength of his embrace. His mouth moved to her ears and neck, his lips kissing, his tongue licking her, and she shivered ever so slightly as she felt an electric-like pulse run through her body.

  'Let's get out of these clothes,' he said when he felt her response.

  She nodded silently and held up her hair so that he could unzip her dress. He did so slowly, his lips and tongue tracing a trail down her back as he pulled the zipper down. When he'd finished, he helped her pull the dress off her shoulders and watched as she let it drop to the floor. His gaze swept over her lacy black bra and slip. She started to take off her bra, but he protested.

  'Here,' he said, 'let me.' He unhooked the bra, his dark eyes riveted to her ample breasts as they sprang free of it. He tossed the bra onto the chair, then began to pull her slip over her slim hips and on down to the floor. Allegra lifted her feet, one at a time, and he leaned down and picked up the lacy black silk and tossed it onto the chair with the bra.

  As she stood in nothing but her black panty hose and the black diamond jewelry, the candlelight flickered off the pale beauty of her skin, and the diamonds glinted at him seductively. Todd went down on one knee and, with both hands, drew her panty hose slowly toward the floor. His tongue circled her navel, then made a path down to the mound between her thighs, where he nuzzled against it lustily before licking it.

  Allegra gasped aloud as she felt bolts of electricity shoot through her body, and her legs trembled. 'Oh, Todd. Oh, my God, that feels so good.'

  He began licking her with heightened passion when he heard her reaction, and she placed her hands on his head, steadying herself. Then he reached up and took a firm round cheek in each of his hands, pushing her against his face. His tongue licked her engorged clitoris before delving inside her.

  'Ahhhhh,' Allegra moaned with pleasure. 'You're going to make me . . . you're . . .'

  Todd abruptly stopped and rose to his feet. He stroked her hair lovingly and kissed her lips. 'Let me get undressed.'

  As he quickly took off his clothes, she watched, enjoying the sight of his lean, defined musculature and the little ripple of those muscles with his every movement. His was a classically proportioned body with a long torso, a small waist and obvious abs, slim hips, and long legs, and every time she saw it she was thrilled anew. He was like a magnificent Greek statue brought to life.

  He left his clothes in a pile on the floor, and when he was finally naked, his gaze traveled the length of her lovely softness, his already engorged manhood a testament to his desire for her.

  Extending both of his hands toward her, he began stroking her breasts reverently as if they were objects of worship, then gently thrummed her nipples between a thumb and finger. He loved hearing Allegra's sharp intake of breath as her body responded to his ministrations. She reached out and encircled his manhood with a hand, and Todd gasped at her touch, featherlight as it was. She stroked it, and he moaned with unbridled desire, then pulled her naked body against his, unable to resist the sensual, almost magnetic pull between them.

  They kissed with a ravenous hunger for one another that demanded gratification. Allegra reveled in the feel of his muscular hardness against her soft, yielding flesh, and was enthralled with his distinctly masculine odor, an aroma that, whatever its components, was unique to him and never failed to arouse her. She'd forgotten how wondrous these sensations were, and asked herself why she had denied herself such pleasure.

  He led her to the bed, where she spread out lengthwise, her legs apart, her body anxious to receive him. Todd mounted her, and though he was in a rush to satisfy his carnal urges, he was gentle and loving. He wanted Allegra to savor these moments they were having together, to remember this night as the one that finally convinced her of his devotion.

  When he entered her, Allegra emitted a mewl of delight and put her arms around his back, holding him to her tightly, as if she never wanted to let him go. The wonder of his being inside her, the desire that he obviously felt for her, and the sense of womanliness that he made her feel, along with the powerful erotic pleasure she felt, engulfed her in a state of otherworldliness. She and Todd were suspended apart, as if on another plane altogether, in a state of bliss that they created together.

  He began moving inside her slowly, kissing her lips, her ears and neck, and her breasts, breathing heavily as he began to stroke faster and more deeply. She moved with him, his desire inflaming her own, until she thrust herself up to meet him, her body anxious to sate itself.

  Suddenly she was overcome by the powerful intermingling of love and lust that consumed her, and her body began contracting as never before. Her floodgates opened and wave after wave of orgasm engulfed her in an ecstasy such as she'd never known. She cried out, unable to control the potent sensations and emotions that possessed her. Todd, his desire fueled by her animal like cries, released his seed in a final lunge, exploding in a torrent. His body tensed into a rigid line as he expended himself in one body- wracking spasm after another until he was completely drained and spent.

  He lay atop her, gasping for breath as he clutched her to him, aware of her labored breathing and slick flesh, as sweat-soaked as his own. When he finally caught his breath enough to speak, he said, 'I love you, Ally. I love you, love you, love you.' He peppered her face, her ears, her neck with tender little kisses, still gasping for breath.

  'Hmmm,' she breathed at last, 'you make me feel so wonderful, Todd.' She hugged him tightly, then loosened her grip and let her arms linger on his back. She couldn't bring herself to say more, not yet. No one else had ever made her feel like Todd, but she still couldn't completely trust the love he professed for her.

  When he rolled off her, they snuggled close together. Then Allegra kissed him. 'I've got to go to sleep,' she said, 'because of that appointment I have in the morning.'

  'I know,' he said softly. ' 'Night, Ally.'

  ' 'Night, Todd.' She kissed the tip of his nose, then turned to her side, her back to him. Todd put his arms around her, holding her lightly but possessively.

  He kissed her neck once; then she heard his breathing change as he fell into a deep sleep.

  What will tomorrow bring? she wondered. Why does Hilton Whitehead want to see me? But she fell asleep before she could speculate any further.

  CHAPTER 5

  P
rincess Karima, her floor-length ecru silk dressing gown swishing about her, paced the pale ivory Savonnerie rug in her bedroom, a cigarette in one hand and a cut-crystal old-fashioned glass of straight Jack Daniel's on ice in the other. The heavy velvet draperies with their intricately embroidered satin trim were pulled shut against the morning sun of Paris, and only a small bronze doree bouillotte lamp on her desk cast a diminutive pool of light in the vast, dark room. Its walls, painstakingly hand-painted to resemble lace years ago, were virtually invisible.

  The princess took a long draw on her cigarette and stubbed it out in a large onyx ashtray on the desk. She held her drink up and eyed it curiously. She was a great lover of this distinctive whiskey from that obscure place in America called Tennessee, and international society the world over knew to keep an ample supply on hand when she was expected as a houseguest. She drank down the remainder of the fiery liquid, then set the crystal glass down, deciding that she would wait a bit to have another. She didn't normally drink in the morning unless she'd been up all night partying, but today was different.

  Circling around the desk, she sat down in the embossed velvet Regence throne that served as a desk chair. Before her, on the desk's surface, was the catalogue that Dufour had sent her, and next to it, in a small pinkish beige box, reposed the emerald ring that Stefano Donati had given her years ago. Today, a security detail from Dufour would arrive to take it to the venerable auction house.

  She opened the box with long ruby-lacquered fingernails. The dark green emerald glimmered up at her from its heavy gold setting. She took the ring out and put it on her finger, twisting her hand this way and that, her eyes glued to the magnificent gemstone. It is beautiful, she thought.

  She slipped it off her finger and replaced it in its suede niche. It had been a symbol of an undying love, she'd thought at the time. A love affair with one of the richest, most powerful, and best-looking men in the world. For years she had been convinced that he would leave his wife for her. But she had been wrong. She eventually learned that Stefano would never leave the beautiful Bettina, a princess of ancient lineage, not for an arriviste Arab princess.

  Princess Karima slammed the box shut, but not before noticing the gilt- stamped name inside the lid: JULES LEVANT JOAILLIER. And below that: PARIS. Suddenly, she threw back her head and laughed aloud. She would never forget the day Stefano bought the emerald. They had invited the handsome young Arab who had handled the purchase to come to her newly decorated hotel particulier—another gift from Stefano—for a drink. In the salon, she had belittled the Algerian from the housing projects in front of Stefano, who had taken great pleasure in watching the young Arab's humiliation. It had all been a show put on for Stefano's amusement.

  He must hate me still, she thought with a feeling akin to merriment. But so what? Most of the Arab world hates me. They despise me as they would the most odious infidel.

  She had hardly mingled in the Middle Eastern world. She'd been sent off to boarding school in England when she was young, then finished in Switzerland. Her life since had primarily revolved around European society and the aristocracy. After her first marriage, to a French pharmaceuticals heir who was also a vicomte, her position in society was assured. Her title and enormous wealth had helped, of course, but hadn't made her an automatic member of the 'club.' Her subsequent divorce and high-profile affairs with the most sought-after men in Europe had done nothing to diminish her star in this celestial firmament.

  She had become a legend in her own time. Rich and beautiful, she was also a seductress without peer. But all of the attention and acceptance she felt did nothing to salve the wounds caused by her breakup with Stefano. She would never be like his wife, descended from an ancient European royal house, and thus would never be completely accepted by the uppermost level of the social order. Princess Karima still felt that despite her status she was an outsider, and she knew that would never change.

  Her youth and beauty on the wane, she still attracted men, but she found herself increasingly relying on gay 'walkers' to squire her around the world in her endless search for diversion. They were rich and handsome men, many of whom would willingly marry her, but she did not relish growing old in such a relationship.

  Then an idea had come to her only a few months ago, during a sleepless night when she'd nursed a bottle of her much beloved Jack Daniel's and chain-smoked till past dawn. She would announce her 'enlightenment,' and the establishment of a charitable foundation in her name, the endowment of which would begin with the proceeds from the disposal of her worldly goods. In her quest to see that only the most deserving would enjoy the largesse of her foundation, she would single-handedly control the foundation and handpick its recipients.

  Fueled by whiskey and cigarettes, she had written the press release before she finally slept that fateful dawn. She included her intention to sell her luxurious residences and move to a charming little millhouse on the outskirts of Paris, where she could meditate and make decisions without the intrusions of society. She concluded with the announcement that she would appear once a year—and only once a year—at a grand ball in Paris that would serve as a fund-raiser for her foundation.

  Lighting a cigarette, she rose to her feet and walked to the liquor cabinet and minibar that were concealed behind a jib door in the wall's hand- painted lace. She poured Jack Daniel's into a clean glass and tossed in some ice cubes. Swirling the drink around, she turned and strode over to her vanity table, where she sat down and looked at her reflection in the baroque Venetian mirror over it.

  Her gaze studied her carefully dyed black hair pinned back in a loose chignon; her perfectly arched and dyed brows; her subtly made-up eyes, face, and lips. She shrugged out of her silk dressing gown, and her eyes surveyed her flesh. A web of wrinkles traversed her neck and the cleavage between her once lovely, firm breasts, which now hung like useless appendages. Soft, dimpled skin exhibited itself from between her arms and chest. Simply lifting an arm exposed the loose, aging flap of a woman far beyond her prime.

  She was still a beauty—a mature beauty—but the ravages of time were taking their inevitable toll, and no amount of cosmetic surgery and makeup could conceal her loss of youth. But no matter. Now that these physical assets had deserted her, she had others to put to use.

  She raised her glass in a toast. You're brilliant, she said to her reflection. As your legend grows in the eyes of the entire world, as it's burnished beyond the brightness of mere stars, no one will know who you really are and what you are really doing. No one will know the vengeance you're extracting until it's far too late.

  There was a soft knock, and the princess shifted her gaze from her mirror image to the door. It would be Mimi, her devoted housekeeper of many years. Slipping back into her silk dressing gown, she called out to her. 'Come in, Mimi,' she said, placing her drink on the vanity.

  The door opened quietly, and the ancient, wrinkle-faced woman hobbled into the room, her small, close-set eyes focused on her mistress. Despite her advanced age and slow movements, she was still sharp-witted and strong, with the stamina of the peasant stock from which she came. 'The men from Dufour are here, madame,' she said.

  'Already?' the princess asked, turning to face Mimi. 'I had no idea it was so late.'

  'Shall I have them wait for you to dress, madame?' Mimi asked.

  'No,' Princess Karima replied. 'You can show them in. They'll only be a minute.'

  The old woman nodded, then turned and left the room, closing the door behind her. Princess Karima had a sip of her drink and lit another cigarette. Taking one last lingering glance in the mirror, she rose to her feet and crossed to her desk. She picked up the box that held the emerald ring and started to open it again, but decided against it. Putting the box back on the desk, she went around to her chair and sat down, flicked ash off her cigarette into the ashtray, and waited for the Dufour security detail. Her fingernail lacquer shone in the small pool of light cast by the desk lamp, but she was in the shadows; her features were barely visi
ble, though her dark eyes glittered.

  There was another soft knock at the door. 'Entrez,' the princess commanded imperiously.

  Mimi opened the door, then stood aside to let two men enter. They stood silently in the triangle of light emitted from the hallway. One of them appeared to be no more than twenty and was a tall, strong-looking specimen with short-cropped blond hair. The other was middle-aged, his muscular body covered with layers of fat. Both of them wore dark blue livery, somewhat like police uniforms, and there were holstered guns on their belts. They held their caps in their hands.

  'Please, gentlemen,' she said. 'Come forward. I assume you brought the paperwork I have to sign?'

  'Yes, madame la princesse,' the older one said, nodding and stepping forward slightly.

  The younger man lifted his gaze from the floor and looked toward Princess Karima. She saw his cap quiver slightly in his big, powerful- looking hands. She rose to her feet and came from behind the desk. 'The ring is there,' she said, indicating the box with a hand.

  'I have the paperwork here, madame la princesse,' the older man said, holding out a folder in one hand. His head was nodding rapidly, and he was smiling widely. 'With your permission, madame la princesse, I have to fill out the time of pickup and the exact location, things like that, then get your signature.'

  'Of course,' she replied. 'There. Use the desk. There is a pen if you need it.'

  'Merci, merci,' the older one said, his head still nodding. 'So sorry to disturb you, madame la princesse. It will only take a minute.' He stepped forward to the desk, gingerly placed the folder on it, withdrew a triplicate form, looked at his watch, then began filling in the appropriate blanks.

  Princess Karima ignored him and kept her gaze on the young man, whose face reddened before he averted his eyes from her. She stepped toward him boldly and loosened her dressing gown, letting it slip off her shoulders, revealing ample cleavage. 'You must be new at Dufour,' she said as she provocatively thrust a leg in his direction.