The Temptress

by C. J. Fallowfield

  Again.

  I stood there with her shoes and clutch in my hand, the taste of her lips still lingering on mine, my heart beating out of control in my chest, with the most painful erection I’d ever experienced, wondering what the hell was going on and cursing myself for losing her again. I only moved when a car behind hooted loudly, letting me know that I was blocking their exit. I slowly walked up the path, stooping to pick up her art book that had landed in the flower beds when she fell. Somehow I found myself in my suite, I had no recollection of how I’d even made it here. I was in some sort of hypnotic trance, such was her power over me. I poured myself a drink and sat on the bed with her clutch bag in my hands. Maybe there was something in here to help me find her. I needed answers. Why was she wearing a wig and those lenses? Why didn’t she tell me who she was? Why had she run from me? But more pertinent, had it been co-incidence that she’d been there in the bar? I could drink alone in my suite whenever I wanted, but the night before I had to return to live with my wife for another four nights, I got so depressed I chose to drink in the bar, to listen to other people talking, to feel and witness normal relationships. What were the chances of running into her there?

  I opened her clutch, surprised to see that there was very little inside it. A mobile grabbed my attention straight away and I quickly pulled it out. There was no password protection, but when I checked for messages, emails or contacts, the entire phone was empty. Not even recent or missed calls or any photographs, which was puzzling. I tipped the remaining contents onto the bed. A lip gloss, small mirror and some English currency. The only thing I saw that may be of use was a small business card. I picked it up and examined it.

  Lulu McQueen. At last, I had something to go on, a surname. But what was this card? She owned a cake shop? I remembered her saying that she owned her own business, maybe a patisserie was what it was. I turned the card over and smiled, there was a mobile number, an email address and a website. Now I was really in with a shot. Lulu McQueen had nowhere left to run. When Luc Le Grand wanted something, he got it. And she was my next target. I took my mobile out of my pocket, my heart racing wildly and dialled her number immediately, jumping as the phone lying on the bed started ringing. Strike one. I sent an email, asking her to contact me urgently, that I needed to see her, we needed to talk. I left her my mobile, email and office number and the room number at the hotel. She would have no excuse not to get back to me now. Finally I typed in the website address, the welcome page matching the business card. I tapped on the home page and started to read. The more I read, the more tense my muscles became. She was no maker of cakes. Lulu McQueen ran a honeytrap agency. Our meeting hadn’t been a fluke. She’d come with the intention of seducing me. If I thought I was mad when she ran from me in the bar, now I was furious. I hurled my glass across the room, watching it splinter on the wall, the amber liquid spraying all over the cream and gold wallpaper. The colours reminding me of her skin and beautiful natural eyes.

  I closed mine and shoved my shaking hands through my hair as I tried to calm myself down. I focussed on the moment Lulu had first looked at me downstairs in the bar, when the waiter had dropped his tray of drinks. She’d been shocked, her reaction was only there on her face for a fleeting moment, but yes, shock had been there. She was not expecting to see my face. That was why she’d made a hasty exit. She’d been sent to seduce me, without knowing that it was me, which in itself seemed strange. Why would someone want evidence of me having an affair? Or not provide her with a photograph? Why when she realised it was me, had she continued with this charade? No, it didn’t make sense, unless whoever had hired her wanted to drive a wedge between Myrtille and I. Not that we needed any more reason for a divide. Our marriage was a sham, a total front for social engagements and mutual financial gain. Myrtille herself had no need for my assets, not when she had even more than I did. Merde, this did not make sense at all.

  I needed to speak to Lulu.

  I needed to see Lulu.

  I needed Lulu beneath me again.

  Everything came back to her, all my wants and desires since the moment I clapped eyes on her in Paris all those years ago. She was my swan, of this I was sure. The woman I was meant to mate with, for life. I checked my schedule for the week ahead, damn it, I was needed in Monaco for one of my high net worth clients. I would get Bertrand on the case, a private investigator used by my firm to provide background checks on new clients. I’d tasked him with finding Lulu some years ago, soon after I’d got married, when I realised how empty my life was. With just a first name, photo and the city she lived in though, he stood no chance. Now I had a surname, the name of her business and a website, he’d find her in no time at all. Lulu McQueen was going to have to face me and give me answers, one way or another.

  She was not running from me for a third time.

  I called Bertrand and gave him her surname and office information, offering whatever fee he required to get me answers as to her whereabouts by the morning. I cleared up the broken glass as well as I could, stripped off and headed for a hot shower, my hand finding its way to my stiff cock, stroking myself to the thought of her, crying out her name as I came with such force it even took me by surprise. I secured a towel around my waist as I packed my briefcase and a small suitcase for my trip in the morning. At least I had two consolations. I would not be seeing Myrtille for another week and before I saw her, maybe I’d be seeing Lulu.

  Lulu

  I climbed out of my car, wincing as I put weight on my right leg. The bruising and swelling had worsened overnight and made it difficult to bend. Dom had been over the moon, insisting that I couldn’t possibly drive in this state, so he’d driven, dropping Tristan at school and now me at the office.

  ‘Honestly, you should be wearing flat shoes,’ he scolded, eyeing up the elegant heels of my favourite Louboutins.

  ‘Lulu McQueen would not be seen dead in flat shoes, Dominic McQueen, and no self-respecting gay man would expect me to be anything other than fabulous, no matter what may have occurred,’ I advised with a roll of my eyes.

  ‘Should you even be at work? You hardly slept, I could hear you crying from the spare room.’

  ‘I’m sorry for ruining your night of sleep too,’ I sighed. ‘It was just such a shock. I need some time to figure things out and you know me, work is my best distraction.’

  ‘Fine, today I’ll let you be distracted, but tomorrow we’re talking about how you’re going to handle this. You can’t live minutes from Tristan’s father each weekend and do nothing about it.’

  ‘I need time, Dom. I have so much going on in my head right now, please, just give me the week to work this out,’ I pleaded.

  ‘Fine, but Friday night we’re finding a cosy booth at Krave, with some bottles of Champagne and the three of us are going to hash this out.’

  ‘Please don’t tell Coco yet, she’ll want to come and talk about my feelings. I’m not ready to deal with my feelings at the moment.’

  ‘You know she’ll kill us both, right? I mean five years ago you went looking for him, now you’ve found him you’re having a time out and not telling your best friend?’

  ‘I know,’ I groaned. ‘Please just give me the week. It’s too much to handle at the moment.’

  ‘Fine, but I’ll send her your way when she’s breathing fire and ready to kick some arse. Pick you up at five?’

  ‘Sure, and no speeding in my car, or you’ll have me breathing fire as well,’ I warned. He winked and blew me a kiss before wheel spinning away. I didn’t even have the energy to yell after him. I just sighed and pulled out my key card, opening the ground floor entrance door and making my way to the lift. My office was in its own self-contained two storey building. It used to be an auto workshop, which was handy for the large ground floor space with work pit. Mike had his workshop down there and it was usually where I parked my car, the company Merc and the works van, which came in handy for all kinds of infiltrations required, from Gas company inspections to TV engineers. I s
tuck my head in, to find him smoothing decals onto the van for a catering company. ‘Morning,’ I called. He looked around in surprise.

  ‘You’ve left that car on the street?’

  ‘No,’ I laughed. ‘As if! Dom dropped me off, I’m having trouble bending my knee. Thanks for last night, you did a really good job.’

  ‘If I had, you wouldn’t be looking like your favourite puppy died and standing on one leg like a flamenco,’ he frowned.

  ‘You did a great job,’ I repeated. ‘The fact it all went south was my fault, not yours. And I trust it doesn’t need repeating that whatever you heard or saw was confidential.’

  ‘Well it obviously did need repeating, as you told me last night,’ he chuckled.

  ‘Sorry,’ I sighed, with a gentle shake of my head. ‘I’m on edge.’

  ‘Understandable. Just let me know if there’s anything I can do,’ he offered with a smile.

  ‘Thanks, Mike. I’d better get up there. Violet will be waiting with my coffee and messages and I need to debrief with Henry before the staff meeting. See you up there at ten?’

  ‘Sure, Ms McQueen,’ he nodded. I headed up in the lift and sure enough, there was Violet with a smile for me.

  ‘Morning, Violet,’ I smiled. I was going to have to force my smiles today, no matter how nice it was to see any of my team. My head was just too full of complex decisions that needed to be made.

  ‘Morning. How did it go last night? Henry and Mike have been very evasive,’ she confirmed, as she held out my travel mug of steaming caffeine.

  ‘How about you give me fifteen minutes, to confer with Henry, then come to my office and I’ll fill you in?’ I suggested. She looked at me surprised, her hands already clutching the diary and her note pad and pen. Every morning she’d walk with me into my office to discuss the night’s events and our day ahead. But today wasn’t an ordinary day.

  ‘O, ok. I’ll be there at quarter to nine. Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?’

  ‘No thanks, that smile and a coffee were all that I needed,’ I replied. ‘See you in a while.’ I made my way past the meeting room, staff room, Hilda’s dressing room and wardrobe and stopped outside Henry’s office, taking a deep breath. He’d have the footage of Luc in his suite last night and I hoped I wasn’t about to witness him with another woman in there. It would kill me. Knowing he’d had sex since we parted ways was one thing, seeing it was something else altogether. I tapped the door with the toe of my shoe, my hands being full and heard him heading over.

  ‘Morning, Lulu, come on in,’ he smiled. I set my briefcase down by his desk, my eyes adjusting to the relative darkness of his room. This was where he tinkered with the surveillance equipment and reviewed data. He tended to work with the lights off and just a desk light, or head cam spotlight to focus in on what he was working on. ‘I came in early to review the footage as I knew you’d want to see it. How are you?’ he asked, pulling out a chair for me.

  ‘Tired, as you probably are. I’ll get Sandra to put some extra hours on for you, you’ve gone above and beyond for me.’

  ‘There’s no need, you pay me handsomely as it is and I wanted to help. I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for you when he turned around last night, then to have to sit and talk to him?’

  ‘Yes, well little sleep and aches and pains from falling over as I tried to run from him, haven’t helped my confusion at the dilemma I’m in,’ I replied. ‘I’m not sure I want to see the footage, can you just give me the key points?’

  ‘Sure,’ he nodded, as he sat down next to me. ‘He was back in his suite within about ten minutes of you leaving and had a drink as he checked your bag. He discovered your phone, which I’d just managed to wipe, here’s your new one,’ he advised, as he pushed an identical iPhone my way. ‘Already loaded with all of your old data but it’s a new number, I wasn’t sure what you were going to do, if you were going to see him again.’

  ‘I’m not sure yet either,’ I replied as I picked up the phone, with a picture of Tristan as my wallpaper. That would have led Luc to have even more questions.

  ‘He found a business card in your bag, so he tried your phone, then did something on his, a message or email, but he got really mad at one point and threw his glass, before making another call. I think it’s safe to say that he checked the website and knows why you were there.’

  ‘Great,’ I groaned. ‘That means he has my email address too and can find the office by looking at Companies House records for the registered business address.’

  ‘If you don’t want him to have access to the building that’s easy, unless someone unwittingly invites him in. You’ll have to decide if you want to update the team, put him on the banned access list, but that won’t help if he decides to turn up and hang around outside to wait for you.’

  ‘He’s a busy business executive, Henry. He’s not going to spend hours hanging around outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of me, like a teenager with a crush.’

  ‘I’d say that’s exactly what he could do, based on what he did next, I really think you ought to watch,’ he advised, turning the screen towards me and pressing play. ‘I’ll go and make a coffee. Want another?’

  ‘No, I’m good thanks,’ I replied with a quick smile up at him, as he stood and disappeared. I turned my attention back to the screen, sighing to see him sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. ‘I’m sorry,’ I whispered, feeling my eyes watering at how sad he looked. At what I’d done to him. He got up and shrugged off his jacket, then crouched to clear up his broken glass. My breath caught in my throat as he straightened up and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off his powerfully broad shoulders, his muscular upper torso making my core clench. I stared at his large toned biceps as he fiddled with his trouser button and zip while he kicked off his shoes. Seconds later he dropped his trousers and boxers and I gasped. He was hard, again. However big I’d tried to remember, however big his erection had felt against my stomach last night, with layers of clothing between us, was nothing compared to seeing it on camera. Naked. I put a hand on my chest, which was heaving in response to the sexual desire flooding my system as he bent over, to remove his socks, the sight of his bare backside draining my mouth of saliva. When he got in the shower, water and soap all over his ridiculously sculpted body, then grasped his cock tightly in his right hand, I felt like I should look away. These cameras were illegal and this was a triple X-Rated film I was watching. I was virtually panting as he stroked himself to completion and touched the screen with tears clinging to my lower lashes, as he called my name on his release. He really hadn’t forgotten me. I quickly stopped the video, I’d seen enough. I wiped my eyes and checked myself in the mirror, before Henry knocked and came back in.

  ‘Where are you up to?’ he asked.

  ‘I’ve seen enough, I stopped when he was in the bathroom.’

  ‘He’s got it bad for you, Lulu. I fast forwarded through it, he packed and spent the night alone. I have access to his calendar, he had flights to Monaco this morning, he’s not back until Friday morning so you have some time to decide what to do.’

  ‘I already know what to do,’ I sighed. ‘Work wise that is, I can’t do this to him. For starters it’s a conflict of interest, then there’s the fact that he’s Tristan’s father. No amount of money is worth this.’

  ‘So you have four weeks, don’t go after him again, but if he is cheating with another woman, we can use that. That’s not a conflict if he’s really having an affair. You said there was a lot of money riding on this.’

  ‘There is,’ I confirmed, taking a sip of my coffee, remembering what that sort of sum would mean to me. ‘But even if it was twice as much, I’m not prepared to deliberately entrap him. Fair enough, leave the cameras and gather the evidence when he’s back, until our timeline is up. If he does cheat, I’ll decide what to do then. But we won’t be the ones to push him into an affair.’

  ‘You’re a good woman, Lulu McQueen,’ Henry advised, squeezing
my shoulder.

  ‘Am I?’ I asked. ‘You think so, now that all of a sudden I’ve grown a conscience because it’s someone I care about? What about all the men that had no intention of cheating, until either myself or my girls took them to the brink and used that against them?’

  ‘They didn’t have to invite you up to their rooms, that was their choice.’

  ‘Well I’m not feeling good about it this morning. I’d better go, Violet will be waiting for me.’

  ‘Let me get the doors for you,’ he suggested, bending down to pick up my briefcase for me. I gave him a grateful smile, but inside I was in turmoil.

  Violet sat shaking her head, as I fully appraised her from when I’d left the office last night, to when I’d stepped out of the lift and seen her this morning. She disappeared and returned with an ice pack for my knee and a stool to elevate my leg. She was so efficient.

  ‘You’re really thinking of going straight?’ she asked. I nodded as I bit my lip. She was sharp and knew my business almost as well as I did. I really valued her opinion. ‘Wow. What about the girls, will it mean laying any off?’

  ‘No, it will just mean more surveillance work, which ironically is the harder and more time consuming approach. I’ve been thinking instead of relying on Ian, who seems to be getting too busy to handle us, I could take on someone myself. We could branch out into proper Private Investigation work as well. Maybe approach legal firms and offer our services to hunt down recipients of wills, there’ll be more than enough to keep us busy and the cash flowing in.’