French Wanker - Victoria Pinder Page 0,8
a wrinkled mess. “Why did the train stop?”
The windows were all steamed, and I realized my hair was a disaster. I tried to straighten it with my fingers.
“Wait here. I’ll find out.”
I grabbed a mirror out of my bag and looked, touching my swollen lips and flushed cheeks.
Until now I hadn’t realized just how badly I craved sin.
Despite the risk, I hadn’t cared to stop. I was so out of character. Maybe the vacation and meeting Quentin had me on fire. I checked myself to be sure I was still me, and the mirror reflected the same brown eyes I’d always had.
He came back and crooked his finger at me. “Come.”
I closed up my bag while he grabbed his bottle of half-empty wine, and I trailed after him. “Where are we going?”
As I deboarded the train, I realized the passengers had already grabbed their bags. I ran my hand through my hopeless hair and trekked to where my own had been stored when he said, “The train doesn’t go to Monte Carlo today.”
I pointed to my black wheeled bag. “Why not?”
He went into the container like he was allowed and grabbed it. I gave him a thumbs-up. When he came out, he said, “There is a strike.”
A what? My mind raced, and I just pointed to the tracks that stopped in the middle of a suburb. “After the train already left the station?”
“Check your things are in order.”
At his words, I quickly unzipped my bag. Everything seemed fine, but I shivered a little and glanced around.
The passengers scrambled everywhere, and I crossed my arms as my mind couldn’t quite wrap around what was happening. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He bumped into me playfully and brushed against me slightly too intimately when he said, “Well, you have two choices. You can try to find a room around here to rent and wait out the strike, or you can come with me.”
Nine hours alone with Mr. Wanker.
Perhaps I’d find out the girth of my fantasies, but my neck and face flamed when I asked, “Come with you?”
He grabbed my bag and walked with me like he’d decided for me. “Oui. I rented a car.”
I followed him into the rental lot where only one car remained. He opened the trunk, and I asked like I still had options, “And you’ll take me to Monte Carlo?”
He put my bag inside and closed the door. “Oui, and I hope you’ll join me for dinner.”
I needed to take control. I stood in front of the driver’s door and said when he came closer, “Only if you let me drive.”
His eyebrow cocked as he asked, “Do you have a French driver’s license?”
My lips curved to the side of my face, and I shook my head. “No, just my American one.”
He reached behind me to open the door. “I’ll drive off the lot, and you can search Google to see if that’s legal.”
Fair. I walked to the passenger side, and he followed me. Then he reached out and opened my door, like he was a gentleman as I shrugged in defeat. “I need French notarized translation as I didn’t apply a few months ago.” I pressed my shoulders to my chair.
He turned onto the road. “Then I drive the whole way.”
The law was on his side, and I didn’t want to get foreign tickets. I relaxed into my seat and realized I had no idea how to read the signs anyhow. “Well, I’ll pay for the gas.”
He patted my leg and said, “Very well.”
I moved the half-empty wine behind our seats. I didn’t need police thinking we’d been drinking. “Guess it’s good we didn’t have that second glass.”
He laughed like I was joking. “That’s very American of you.”
I fixed my seatbelt and checked to ensure he was wearing his. “You like to comment on my nationality.”
He sped up on the motorways and said, “Until I met you, Kara, I hadn’t been very interested in your type.”
Nine hours with Mr. Wanker might leave me split in half, unable to think about more than just sex. “My type?”
His nose wrinkled a little when he said, “Extroverted—acts before thinking.”
Me? He must have confused me with one of my sisters. I licked my lips unsure how to answer that one but sounded weak when I said, “I’m no— Well, okay, I was with you.”
He pointed to his bag. “Now that we’re alone, feel free to have that second glass while I drive.”
No. I wasn’t getting pulled over and arrested for wine.