The Affair: Week 5 Read Free Page B

all.”
    “I’m a tacked-on leaf of a very disreputable branch,” Niki replied dryly. “And I can think of one
non
-royal bird who is going to be extremely ruffled by your absence. No amount of Dellis diplomacy is going to smooth that over.”
    “I have complete faith you’ll make her forget I even exist,” Vanni said drolly as he plunged down the mountain, the sun-infused Mediterranean sparkling like liquid turquoise beneath a sky as smooth and blue as a robin’s egg. The particular committee member Niki was referring to was a very beautiful, married socialite who had been vying for Vanni’s attention since he was first introduced to her at her own wedding six years ago.
    “You must give Estelle credit,” Niki mused, and Vanni could almost see the glimmer of humor in his friend’s black eyes. “She remains convinced after all these years she can change your mind about taking a married woman as a lover. I myself was always a little confused by this American fastidiousness of yours.”
    “You know it’s got nothing to do with being American. It’s got everything to do with being Michael Montand’s son.”
    He didn’t recognize how bitter he’d sounded until he noticed the silence on the other line. He’d seen firsthand what his father’s frequent infidelities—what the ultimate betrayal—had done to his mother. No, Vanni was selfish, but he wasn’t cruel like Michael Montand.
    “What is this emergency, Van?” Niki asked, his Greek accent almost disappearing with his sudden, focused concern. “Does it have to do with that lovely nurse you brought to Cristina’s funeral? I recognized what she was wearing around her neck. How did you manage to get Prisatti to give her one? Or did you mislead him somehow as to the identity of the receiver?”
    “Do you think Angelo Prisatti thought it was for
me
?” Vanni asked sardonically.
    “No, not a chance,” Niki chuckled. “I’m just desperate to know what in the world you told him in order to get him to part with it. That’d be excellent knowledge for any single man.”
    “Only you would use a Prisatti angel to get a woman into bed.”
    “I don’t need to. But isn’t that why you used it?” Niki challenged glibly.
    “Why don’t you mind your own business?”
    “You sort of are my business, unfortunately. Are you sure you’re not more . . .
unsettled
by Aunt Cristina’s death than you’re letting on?” Niki asked.
    “It has nothing to do with Cristina,” Vanni said in a hard tone. “As for the reason I’m leaving, it relates to the fact that I can’t sleep, and leave it at that,” Vanni said, rounding a mountain pass.
    “You never can sleep,” Niki said with an air of stating the obvious.
    “Now it’s for a different reason, though.”
    He was telling the truth. He’d hardly had a moment’s rest since landing in France. Memories of making love to Emma would pop up at the most inopportune moments—on a walking tour with the rest of the grand prix committee of the race circuit, at a luncheon hosted in Cannes for the press, at an exclusive dinner he’d hosted at La Mer for the drivers that had started to dribble in from all over the world.
    He’d think of her incessantly in his empty bed at night.
    Her dark eyes haunted his dreams when he did catch a few hours. His sense of restlessness and hunger had mounted as the days passed. All he could seem to focus on were memories and fantasies of touching her, of breathing her unique scent, of holding her while she shook in climax . . .
    Yesterday, Neil Parodas had called and informed him that Emma had been one hundred percent correct in saying she was completely healthy.
    I’m not saying she experienced a miracle cure, of course
, Neil had cautioned
. There must have been some mistake if she was ever diagnosed with thalassemia. The most important thing, though, is that without a doubt, that girl is as healthy as they come.
    A strange sensation had gone through Vanni at the news. It