right?” I asked. I leaned forward to get his attention and wobbled a bit in my heels. He caught me with a hand at my hip, and this time when he smiled, it looked more genuine.
“Yes, it’s good, very good.” He searched my eyes for a moment and said, “I was wondering if you could do me a tiny favor?”
I was so relieved to see a hint of his old self back, I said, “Absolutely.”
“Mon chou, I need you to work your charms on François,” he said. “You would do that for me, non?”
What? I’d thought a favor would entail getting Jean Claude a fresh drink, maybe a snack, or taking a walk outside to cool off in the night air.
His hand slid down my bare back to rest on my tailbone, his fingers dipping just beneath the edge of my dress. If he was giving me a hand signal, it was not one I wanted to receive. I closed my eyes and took a breath before I turned to face him, forcing his hand away.
“When you say charm François, what do you mean exactly?” I asked. I kept my voice a low purr. I wanted him to think I was on board so that he would detail it for me and there would be no misunderstanding.
“He is quite enchanted by you,” he said. “And he would like for the two of you to spend some time alone together.”
I was fairly clear about what he meant by alone. Hurt and shock made my throat tight, but I pushed through it. I was going to make him spell it out. “Alone?”
Jean Claude gave me a knowing look. Then he hit me with a one-two punch of disrespect and disillusionment. “François just wants some company. Surely, since I have given you this very expensive dress, you would do me the courtesy of being equally generous with my friend.”
“You want me to sleep with him. That’s why you showed him my picture. You’re using me to bargain with him.” It wasn’t a question and he didn’t deny it. I felt queasy, and it wasn’t from the champagne. I couldn’t believe Jean Claude was asking this of me. “Why?” I demanded. I glanced around the room. “There are much more beautiful women in this room. Why me?”
“Because you are a beautiful woman with a refreshingly innocent air about you,” Jean Claude said. He stepped closer to me, looming in a way I didn’t like. “You said you would do anything for me. Did you mean it?”
And now I understood why he’d been plying me with champagne. He probably thought if he got me drunk enough, I’d be okay with this. That was a hard no. There wasn’t enough champagne in the world to make me prostitute myself, and clearly, Jean Claude was not the man I’d thought he was.
“I meant I’d be happy to rub your back or get you a sandwich,” I said. “Whoring myself out to your friends wasn’t on my list.” I stepped away from him and shook my head. “Find someone else.”
His brown eyes went dark, and he grabbed my elbow. “You’re wearing my dress. Did you think there was no price attached to it?”
chapter seventeen
PRICE?” I REPEATED. Fury hot enough to scorch the earth consumed me.
The sheer arrogance, the gall, the nerve of this guy. I had half a mind to rip the dress right off my body and throw it at him, except then I’d be mostly naked, and there was no dignity in that, plus the temperature would be dropping into the forties tonight, so it was a bit too chilly for that much exposure.
Instead, an image of Darby O’Shea pole dancing in Finn’s Hollow flitted through my mind, and I thought about how she hadn’t settled for less than she was worth. When her man had done her wrong, she’d cut him loose. Determined to follow her example, I took a step back, stared Jean Claude right in the eye, and with a flick of my wrist, flung the contents of my glass right in his face.
Jean Claude sputtered, the champagne dripping down his shocked expression, as the people around us stared in startled amusement. It was gloriously satisfying.
“Don’t contact me—ever again,” I hissed. With that, I made the dramatic exit of a lifetime. Head held high and back straight, I stormed through the room. People scrambled to get out of my way, and the butler scurried to open the door for me as if he