Mistress for Hire by Letty James Read Free Book Online

see the shop under the shadow of the Eiffel Tower.” She took another hefty swallow. “I’ve practiced and practiced at home, but learning from the masters, that’s something different . . . ” The words flowed like the bottomless glass of champagne. Learning pastry seemed like such a paltry goal compared to the big doings of Beauvais’s company. She gave a slight hiccup and covered her mouth in mortification. “Excuse me.”
    “And you thought this job would lead to . . .?” His question hung there, waiting to be finished. She couldn’t think as his fingers traced the shoulder stitching of her blouse.
    “Greater opportunities!” Nikki blurted out, just as the chef appeared at their table.
    Beauvais stood, clasping the chef’s hand as they greeted each other warmly.
    “Gérard, you old dog. Does everyone speak to you of opportunities?” He winked at Nikki. “Give the woman anything she wants. So? Have you read my proposal?”
    “I have, chef. It looks very promising.”
    The chef shook his head. “Never a guarantee, is there? How is my friend Jean-Luc? You need to learn how to cook so he can come back to work for me.”
    “And spend all my money here? I don’t think so.”
    The chef said his goodbyes and their waiter described each dish as it came to their table, pouring a different wine for every course.
    “You don’t cook?” she asked.
    Beauvais shook his head. “I’m too busy. And if I relied on my own skills, I’d be subsisting on fried potatoes and poached eggs.”
    Nikki gave a little snort of a laugh. “That sounds like a hang-over meal.”
    He glanced down at her with those sexy, smoky dark blue eyes, smiling at her as if she were the most entertaining dinner companion he’d ever had. “Perhaps I’ll make you one tomorrow morning.”
    Nikki sat up straight and reached for her water glass, bobbling it up to her lips. “I’m fine.” Did he say morning?
    “Gérard! C’est quelle surprise .” With the intimacy of a good friend, an elegant woman took a seat in the booth next to Beauvais, her shiny silver hair swinging against her jaw. Nikki gasped at the sudden press of his thick thigh against her own. Thank goodness he was distracted by the woman’s greeting as they kissed on each cheek.
    “Gérard, mon cher . I haven’t seen you in ages. In person, that is.” The woman laughed, and Nikki found herself mesmerized by the woman’s immovable face. “You were perfectly horrid to Chef Denacka last week. I heard he threw a knife at his sous chef in the restaurant afterward.”
    “The man deserved it for serving garbage. He knows better.”
    As Nikki made to move away, Beauvais’s hand clamped down on her thigh underneath the tablecloth. He immediately removed his palm, but Nikki could still feel the imprint of his heat. She longed to press the cold glass of water against her forehead, but settled on a gulp instead.
    “And who have we here?”
    Beauvais made the introductions with a nod of his head. “Aimee, this is Nikki Sommers, Jessica’s sister. Nikki, meet Aimee VonDorling.”
    The woman took Nikki’s hand in a bone-crushing grip, gold bangles clattering over Beauvais’s plate between them. “VonDorling of the Provence VonDorling’s .” The woman suddenly switched to English, with a condescending tone, as if Nikki wouldn’t be able to understand a word otherwise. “The same Jessica who ran your foundation, Gérard?”
    Gérard nodded, stone faced.
    “My word, lose a few pounds and you’d be the spitting image of your sister.”
    Nikki gave the woman a semblance of a smile. Lose a few pounds indeed. This woman would blow away in a strong wind.
    “Sommers? Isn’t Jessica’s name Nichols?”
    “I took my grandmother’s name.” She wasn’t about to tell this horrid woman the full story of being stepsisters.
    “I don’t blame you. Nikki Nichols sounds like a call girl. I must dash. Call me, darling.” With another flurry of kisses over Beauvais’s cheeks,