Perfume Girl

by Vanessa Fewings

  “You seem to have that level of passion for everything you do, Astor.”

  “If I find a subject that interests me, I’m all in.”

  “That’s commendable.”

  Astor licked his bottom lip as he studied me. “You look pretty in that dress.”

  “Targay,” I twisted the name of the store. “Target,” I added on his confusion.

  “Green suits you.” He turned to peer back at Damien. “Was he polite?”

  “Yes. The rudest thing he’s ever done is fuck the weather girl.”

  “Ah.”

  “Apparently, the best revenge in circumstances like this is to double down on the yoga and get skinny.” I let out a sigh. “Only I like cheese and olives.”

  “Looks good on you.”

  “Please.”

  He glanced over his shoulder at the couple. “Rescuing you from them is me making it up to you.”

  “You mean for what we did in that hotel room?”

  His gaze shot to mine. “I was referring to the unexpected boat trip to Cuba, which got us there.”

  “Well, we both know you have perfect timing. Thank you for saving me.” I turned to leave.

  “Have dinner with me.”

  I took a moment to study him. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “We can discuss our mutual project. That’s all. Nothing more complicated than that.”

  I handed him my drink. “You have my number.”

  “Raquel.” He came closer. “I appreciate your discretion about the other night.”

  “And I yours.”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you feeling better now?” He nodded toward Damien.

  “Not really.”

  “What can I do to change that?”

  I mulled his question over for a few seconds. “Kiss my cheek.”

  “You want to make him jealous?”

  I rested my fingertip on my cheekbone and gave him a cute smile. “Let’s do it.”

  Astor lowered his gaze. “And here I was assuming you’d fallen hard for me.”

  “I’m far too sensible for that, Mr. Beauregard.”

  He shook his head. “Take your drink.”

  “Why?”

  “Go on, take it. Now.”

  I accepted the glass and he reached out and placed his hand on the back of my head, pulling me toward him. His mouth dragged across my lips leisurely, his tongue darting into my mouth for a lust-fueled kiss.

  “That wasn’t my cheek,” I stuttered out as soon as he stepped back.

  “Let me try that again.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine, giving me another intimate kiss…the kind of kiss that lovers share when they care deeply for one another. It had me swooning and forgetting where I was.

  As he pulled away, my bubbly sloshed all over my hand, but I didn’t care. “I can’t stop thinking of you either,” I confessed in a rush.

  Astor stared at me as though my confession had stunned him into silence.

  “Sorry to interrupt,” Damien said from behind me.

  I looked at my ex, realizing I had just confessed my feelings to Astor. My cheeks burned with embarrassment.

  Damien glared at Astor and then turned his gaze on me. “I need the spare keys to the boat.” He gave me a thin smile. “We’re ready to take the next step and divide up the rest of the property.”

  “We?” I said.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “We’ll get them to you,” said Astor.

  “I love that boat.” I hated to let it go.

  Astor grinned. “I’ll buy you another.”

  He’d taken our role-playing to the extreme. Still, it seemed to have Damien rattled and his jealousy made this day a little more bearable.

  “How long have you two been together?” Damien asked.

  I ignored the question to lick champagne off my hand, pausing midway when I felt their eyes locked on me.

  “I love it when you do that,” said Astor huskily.

  Damien turned around and walked away from us.

  I faced Astor. “When I said ‘I can’t stop thinking of you’ I knew he was behind us.”

  A slow smile slid across Astor’s face.

  “I mean it. I haven’t given one thought to Havana.” Other than to replay it moment by moment.

  “Not even the boat trip?” he asked.

  I dragged my teeth across my lip.

  He stepped forward. “How about us having drinks in the hotel bar?”

  “Where we argued?”

  “You argued. I listened.”

  “Well, let’s not bring up what happened next.”

  “What happened next?” His eyebrows arched seductively.

  “I do remember warning you there’d be no more kissing,” I said firmly.

  “I did what you asked of me.” He lifted the strap of my dress, which had fallen halfway down my arm.

  His touch sent tingles along my shoulder. “Damien probably doesn’t even think of me.”

  “Yet he’s looking this way.”

  “Is he?”

  “Damien must realize he let the most beautiful woman in the world slip through his fingers.”

  I laughed at that.

  “I have even more devilry up my sleeve.” He winked playfully.

  “Really?”

  “Ultimate revenge. It’s taking it to genius level.”

  “Are you suggesting I flirt with a hot guy in jodhpurs?”

  He suppressed a smile. “I’m sure I know someone who would cooperate.”

  Astor nudged me backwards and my butt hit the table. He set down his glass and then took mine and placed it beside his.

  He put his hands on my waist and lifted me onto the edge of the table. “We’re working on your adventurous spirit, Raquel. This should help.”

  “I think people might be looking.”

  “What people?”

  My breath stuttered.

  “I was thinking of something like this,” he said silkily. He stepped between my thighs and pressed against me.

  A rush of pleasure hit me. “This seems like it might work.”

  “It will undoubtedly prove you’ve moved on.” He kissed my neck.

  “I’m even jealous of me,” I quipped, feeling breathless. I was ready for anything.

  He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes, and then gently pressed his lips to mine. His tongue darted inside my mouth and I tasted champagne. The sensation caused me to moan, and I felt Astor respond. He embraced me tightly, his groin rubbing against me, which felt divinely forbidden.

  His kiss became more savage, and our tongues battled, both of us drawing as much from this moment as time would allow.

  Our chemistry felt exquisite. It was impossible to deny that our bodies melded perfectly.

  We broke away, breathless and panting, with me still wanting more.

  Astor reached up and rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip. “I smudged your lipstick.”

  His touch enraptured me. I loved the way his eyes glistened with emotion when they looked into mine.

  I didn’t care whether Damien was watching or not.

  “Raquel?” He tipped my chin up.

  “You’ve gone above and beyond,” I said.

  “Pleasure’s all mine.”

  I let out a sigh and it betrayed me with its wistfulness. Astor may be the enemy but he was so damn dreamy.

  He stepped back a little. “You have to let him go, Raquel.”

  “I have.”

  “I was watching you watching them. “

  I broke his gaze. “I was remembering how I found them together.”

  “You caught them…”

  “Yes.” I slid off the table, his spell broken.

  He blew out a breath of concern. “They don’t deserve to be part of your life.”

  “Right.”

  “It gets easier.”

  “Have you ever had your heart broken?”

  “No, but I have broken quite a few.”


  “So you’re the expert, then?” I said sarcastically.

  “Oh, yes. Damien doesn’t want you, but he still wants you to want him.”

  “Thank you for the insight.”

  “I’m here for you. Just ask. Any matters pertaining to the breaking of hearts, I’m your man.”

  “You’re nothing like Damien.” I gestured. “I mean, look at you.”

  Astor was front cover material for Horse & Hound magazine—and when naked he’d be right at home in GQ.

  “You’re a gentleman,” I muttered.

  This man was in an entirely different league.

  “And I would never hurt you.” He seemed surprised by his own words.

  “Yet I thought you savored going in for the kill?”

  He blinked at me and his expression became taut…offended, even. “Why do you say that?”

  “Back in Havana,” I clarified. “You warned me how—”

  “I have to go, Raquel. I have to take care of my horses.”

  “Of course. Thank you for saving me.”

  “Be ready at seven.”

  “Okay.”

  “What’s your address?”

  I hesitated. “Pick me up at the store.”

  “What about your home?”

  “The store is fine.”

  His gaze narrowed on me. “Tonight will be strictly business, Raquel. You would do well to remember that.”

  I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “Yes, sir.”

  “Tease me at your peril, Wren,” he whispered. His hand trailed up my forearm, causing a shiver along my skin.

  I feigned disapproval at his teasing, and as he walked away I couldn’t help but stare. Even from behind he was a striking specimen of a man. It was his confident, regal stance…the broad shoulders and that perfectly firm bum.

  What the hell was happening?

  All I wanted to do was bury my teeth into his alluring pert cheeks and then kiss him all over. Pleasure rippled through me at the thought of my tongue running along his—

  Astor spun round to look at me and a grin slid across his face.

  I swore under my breath at getting caught admiring his assets. My breath hitched when he walked back toward me, and I said breathlessly, “Yes, Mr. Beauregard?”

  “Why did you call your store Perfume Girl?”

  “It’s what my mom used to call me. She’d say, ‘Here comes my perfume girl.’”

  “That’s sweet…and a perfect name.”

  “I think so.”

  He gave me a nod and strolled away. “See you tonight, perfume girl.”

  My heart raced. I watched him leave, my bruised lips still tingling from his delicious kiss.

  I TOOK IN THE DISTINCTIVE blue and white Perfume Girl sign and then lowered my gaze to admire the shop’s stained-glass front window. This was all so her.

  A perfect fit for downtown Dunedin’s classic style and a remarkable achievement for any chemist. This proved Raquel was talented in both business and chemistry, and if it wasn’t for her husband letting her down she’d continue to thrive. If I hadn’t planned this visit in order to spy on her, I’d have been stoked to be meeting with such a gifted entrepreneur.

  Her location was great for foot traffic and was situated next to a bakery. That “spoil yourself” mentality probably spilled over to the shop. Many customers saw perfume as a luxury item, which meant marketing was tailored toward the impulse buy.

  The House of Beauregard’s clientele were repeat customers because they couldn’t find that level of quality anywhere else. Their loyalty was rewarded with compelling formulas that satisfied even our most discerning customer. We sold a profound experience to the sophisticated elite, whereas Raquel offered the public a more affordable line. I was looking forward to sampling her scents.

  The CLOSING DOWN SALE sign stuck on the front window nagged at my conscience. I could save this place. If I chose to. Instead, I would get what I needed from tonight’s interrogation and then fire her.

  Raquel would be out of my life and my business would have survived another threat. She’d be okay. From the brief time I’d spent with her, I’d come to realize that she was a survivor.

  The doorbell rang as I stepped inside and I felt the chill of air-conditioning. I paused for a moment on the tiled floor, picking up the aroma of Savage King, a Beauregard cologne with dark notes and dusky ripples.

  “I’ll be right there,” Raquel called from the back of the store.

  Moving farther in, I looked around at what had probably once been a thriving store. Large black and white prints hung on the walls, one a picture of a white tulip and another had captured a white rose in mid-bloom. A gold-framed mirror covered the entire length of the far wall.

  The shelves were stripped of their bottles—other than one long glass shelf on my left that still had a few on display…as though Raquel had not been ready to remove them all. A stack of boxes sat in one corner of the room, and a chaise lounge in another.

  A feeling of sadness hung in the air as thick as my cologne. Passion had been very much alive here once, with Raquel placing her personal touch on everything from the decorative light fixtures to the glass-fronted counter, creating an eclectic atmosphere for her customers to enjoy.

  I imagined this place had been popular amongst locals as well as tourists. I was sure the other shop owners would be sorry to see her go, too. If Raquel couldn’t save this place she’d lose money as well as her dream. I suddenly understood her motivation for doing whatever it took to salvage her flailing business, and it caused the hairs on my nape to prickle.

  How far was she willing to go?

  I supposed it all depended on how much she was willing to fight for this place. There was still a chance for her store’s survival, but at what cost?

  On the floor in the far corner lay a red ribbon, the kind used to wrap gift boxes, and resting next to it glinted something that could have been a perfume bottle.

  “How do I look?” Raquel appeared beneath the arch of a doorway, looking stunning in a red chiffon dress. She hurried past me toward the corner and swept up the bottle, cupping it in her hands as though hiding it from me.

  “You look beautiful, Raquel.”

  She spun around playfully and hid the bottle behind her back. I was distracted by her halter-neck dress, complimented by strappy heels which almost made her as tall as me. Shiny auburn locks spiraled over her shoulders and her make-up looked natural.

  I admired this sultry version of her. No doubt she was trying to use the power of her beauty to fracture the ground beneath my feet.

  I smiled. “What are you hiding in your hand?”

  Raquel carried the bottle across the room, and then opened a drawer and placed it inside before closing it.

  She turned to face me. “You look very handsome, Mr. Beauregard.”

  “I’m a little dressed down for you.” I’d gone for Levi’s and a white shirt.

  “You look good in anything,” she said.

  My memory betrayed me with flashes of our kiss this afternoon in Clearwater, the way she’d looked so bohemian in that sundress at the polo match, such a natural style compared to all those other guests. Her easygoing nature had provided a welcome freshness to the stuffy atmosphere. Her lips had tasted like sunshine and sugar—devastatingly erotic, reminding me of how she’d moved beneath me in that bed, and God, her beauty…

  For the love of all things holy…get your head back in the game.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Of course.” I looked around the front room. “This is a great place.”

  My gaze drifted to a familiar bottle.

  “Something wrong?” she asked, following my stare.

  “Savage King?”

  “I was testing it. Your colognes are popular. I sell about five a week.”

  “Only five?”

  She smirked. “I encourage them to buy mine.”

  “Ah.”

  “Well, I did once.” She looked vulnerab
le in that moment.

  This time I’d be wary of her easy seduction. There’d be no more flirting on my part, no more reckless decisions that involved intimacy. This morning’s connection hadn’t thrown me at all—in fact it had made me more resolved to end this façade. We had nothing in common other than our mutual passion. Yes, this woman radiated a compelling blend of sensuality and serenity but that was probably just an act.

  “How does it feel having to shut this place down?” I asked, a little cruelly.

  She shrugged. “I never saw it coming…but I’m happy in my new job.”

  “Show me around.”

  “There’s nothing much here.” She used her thumb to point behind her. “I have a small laboratory in the back.”

  “I’m interested in seeing it.” Stepping closer, I savored us almost being the same height. She’d probably worn those heels so she could feel more like my equal. But it would take more than that for her to gain control of this evening.

  She stared at my mouth as she ran her tongue over her lips. I could handle a flirty woman. Hell, I was a goddamned expert at emotionally jousting with enticing sirens.

  She swallowed hard. “There’s nothing to see back there.”

  “Still.”

  Raquel gave me a relenting look and strolled elegantly through a small hallway that led to another room. Her curves were deadly and her ass ridiculously squeezable.

  She’s out of bounds.

  I followed her through another doorway and we stepped into a clinical setting. The chrome countertops were covered with small glass bottles and half-heartedly packed boxes. A desk had papers scattered across it.

  I leaned back against the central island. “So this is where the magic happens?”

  “Happened.”

  “You’re ready to let it go?”

  She held my gaze. “There’s always a silver lining.”

  “What happened to your scale?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  I pointed to the broken scale on the floor. “You probably could have sold it.”

  Her gaze locked on mine. “It’s all part of the dismantling.”

  I gestured toward the stairs. “Where does that lead?”

  An expression of panic crossed her face. “Storage.”

  I sprang forward and headed up the stairs.