The Chocolate Kiss by Laura Florand

Author:Laura Florand
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Publishing Corp.
Published: 2012-11-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Magalie would never, ever, in a million years forget the cringing horror of that moment. Caught half-naked in the kitchen by Geneviève and Aja with Philippe Lyonnais.

Oh, God.

She writhed with it, all night. She curled into it, in fetal humiliation, and then found her hand trying to take advantage of the position to slip between her thighs and relieve the desperate, hot, unsatisfied desire.

She threw herself back the other way, locking her hands in fists under her pillow, and saw Aunt Geneviève’s face again.

Then she saw Philippe’s, flushed and damp and purely furious.

Then she saw Aunt Aja’s.

Then she wondered what the hell hers had looked like and flinched into a ball again. Since she had been half-naked at the time, what did her face matter?

She kept hoping the writhing would be interrupted by a knock on the door, the return of her intruder, so she could throw things at him or at least commiserate with someone. And then get rid of this hot desperation between her thighs. But he never came.

She thought about running away from home.

But she couldn’t stand the idea of losing her place here. This was the truest place she had ever had.

She considered wearing a mask around her aunts for the rest of her life, and dark sunglasses with it.

Maybe not only around her aunts but whenever she had to walk by Philippe’s shop.

Walk by Philippe’s—

God, she was never going to be able to walk down that end of the street again. He had stolen half her island from her!

She tried to calm down and think of something else, and then flinched into her arms again, covers pulled entirely over her body, as she saw their faces.

That bastard Philippe. She would kill him.

He had done it on purpose. “I’ll show you why I didn’t want Christophe in your kitchen.” He had planned it. In advance.

Maybe not planned to get caught by Geneviève and Aja, because a more appalled, furious expression than his when that silver bell chimed, she couldn’t imagine. But planned to seduce her. As if she was some pathetic person who could be seduced by calculation.

Which, apparently, she was.

That bastard.

She had no doubt what that bastard had planned to do with his fingers just before they got caught. Oh, God, why couldn’t that poetry reading have taken just five minutes longer?

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