Deal With a Devil Ch. 02

Hollywood's latest sensation, the caption of the magazine read.

The pride that filled him as he stared at the stunning picture of Giselle Leroy was nearly his undoing. She was on the fast track of becoming one of the most successful Hollywood actresses at the young age of twenty-three. There had never been any doubt in his mind that his baby sister will make it to the top. She was armed with the same Leroy single-mindedness and iron-clad determination that had enabled Antoine to expand his father's company into a worldwide multi-billion empire. When his father had been diagnosed with inoperable cancer, the running of their oil company had fallen into his hands. His need for expansion had been insatiable.

He had never been one of those rich kids who took everything they had for granted and used their parents' wealth as an excuse for laziness. At the age of twenty five, he already had his double masters in Finance and Business Administration. His education has served him well. During the course of eight years, he has acquired several companies ranging from Electronics to Pharmaceuticals. The tentacles of his influence and power spread all over the globe.

Before his father had ultimately succumbed to the cancer, his last words had been telling Antoine how proud he was of everything he had accomplished. But he had also told him to take a step back and reflect on his life and whether he was truly happy.

Too filled with restless energy to remain seated, he abruptly stood up from his sofa and shuffled over to the glass wall of his London Penthouse. The sweeping view of the city provided no reprieve from his deeply troubling thoughts.

Happiness? The emotion was completely foreign to him. Guilt, self-disgust and a deep yearning for something that had forever eluded him were the feelings that hovered at the edge of his consciousness ever since Kate died. If he were a man prone to self-reflection, they will be the emotions at the center front of his life. But he wasn't. He had long ago mastered the art of burying his unwanted emotions so deep that he manages to convince himself they weren't there. Until now. Things have changed. The walls he had fortified himself with were crumbling and he was beginning to unravel. He couldn't have that.

It had been necessary to set a plan in motion that would finally give him the peace he craved. The first phase had gone wonderfully well, better than his expectations. His eyes gleamed with triumphant satisfaction at the thought of her imminent surrender. It had taken everything in him not to react to the visceral blast of desire that had gripped him the moment he set eyes on her. A desire that didn't come as a surprise to him and one he had no intention of fighting. Dieu, the woman was utter perfection. Her beauty defied reason. Blessed with a face that could make Aphrodite weep with envy and a body that could drive men insane with lust she was the ultimate temptress.

He vividly recalled the shocked expression on her face when he had made his intentions known, how her mesmerizing violet eyes had turned stormy with rage, cheeks flushing with indignation, looking too irresistibly sexy and alluring for words. His sensual lips curved in a smile. He couldn't have thought of a better trap. There was no way she was going to escape from his clutches.

He fished his i-phone 6 from his trouser pocket and deftly dialed her number. After the third ring, she picked up. His fingers tightened around the phone as the sound of her husky voice sent delicious tingles down his spine.

'Jess, this is Antoine,' He spoke into the phone.

'Where did you get my contact?' Her voice was as hard as brittle.

'That's irrelevant. Have you given any thought to my proposal?'

Her sharp intake of breath indicated her annoyance. 'Yes. And my answer is still no.'

'I'll be at the Saatchi Gallery exhibition tomorrow. If your answer is still no by then, your father had better start looking somewhere else for help.'

The call went dead. Did she just hang up on him? He let the matter drop. Why waste his energy on petty emotions such as anger when victory was so close?

***

Jessica continued to stare at her phone long after she hung up on Antoine, silently fuming. Who did the man think he was? He didn't even ask whether his coming to the exhibition will be alright with her. No, he just presumed he had the right to be there. How did he know about it in the first place? The same way he had gotten her contact of course. He must have gleaned her father for information about her, she concluded with resentment. Why was she even fixating on that when she had bigger things to worry about? What was she going to do? How was she going to help her family without selling her soul to the devil? She rested her chin on her knees, hugging her drawn up legs.

The darkness that shrouded her bedroom marched her frame of mind. Truth be told, she wouldn't be directly affected by her parents' financial predicament. The sale of her paintings provided her with a sizable income. She would be able to live comfortably without the hefty allowance her father had always insisted on giving her even after she started earning for herself. She could tell Antoine that both he and his preposterous proposal could go to hell for all she cared. That's what the Jessica Ashworth of eight years ago would have done.

A shallow and self-centered spoilt princess who thought the world revolved around her. His words reverberated in her head tauntingly, challenging her to prove him wrong.

When they were said to her eight years ago, she had been outraged. But they had been the bitter truth. Antoine had been able to sum her up in a few words within a few days of meeting her. Thinking about the girl she had been felt like staring at a picture of a distant relative. The tragic event of that summer holiday she had spent in the South of France had completely transformed her into a different person.

She was suddenly flooded with memories she would rather suppress. Her family had been invited by Antoine's father to spend the summer with them in the holiday mansion he had in Nice. Kate had been ecstatic for it only meant spending more time with her new boyfriend. Kate had been attending the Sorbonne University and that was where she met Antoine. Despite being happy that her sister had found someone who she obviously adored, Jess had been sick with irritation of hearing about how amazing Antoine was. Kate was always going on about his good looks, his intelligence, and his charm.

She hadn't wanted to go. She had already planned a skiing trip with her friends to Aspen. It was the first time that her parents had refused her anything. Her mother had been adamant in her desire for them to have a real family holiday.

In classic Jessica style, she had thrown a princess-sized tantrum and flown to Switzerland without her parents' permission. Her skiing trip had lasted a week before she received a call from her father threatening to cut her allowance if she didn't meet them in Nice. Infuriated that her parents were treating her so unjustly and in a childish attempt to assert her independence, she brought along two boys. Joshua and Ken had been arched rivals in their quest to win her over. She used to enjoy watching the most gorgeous and sought after boys of Ashbourne High School trying to out-smart or out-dress each other for her approval and she reveled in their attention.

The look on her parents' faces had been priceless when she arrived with them on each arm. Kate had been excited to introduce her to Antoine and even though she wouldn't admit it, Jess had been eager to meet the guy she had heard so much about.

One look at him and she knew her sister hadn't been exaggerating. Standing next to Antoine, Joshua and Ken had paled in comparison. She understood why her sister was so crazy about him. Any girl lucky enough to hold his attention for more than five minutes had to be.

For reasons that still baffled her, Antoine had taken an immediate disliking to her. She hadn't been someone who cared about people's opinion of her but for the first time in her life; she had wanted to be liked by someone.

She was used to guys falling at her feet in awe of her beauty. But not Antoine. His eyes had only reflected disapproval and a condescending superiority that had rankled. He only bothered to be polite when Kate was around. They were constantly at each other's throats throughout that vacation.

In spite of the hostility that brewed between her and Antoine, she had enjoyed her stay in Nice thoroughly. Her twin brothers had been little hellions with boundless energy. She recalled how they used to drag her and Kate down to the beach and force them to help build their sandcastles. She had found a great friend in Giselle Leroy and the two of them had so much fun.

Then the accident had happened. And everything had been destroyed. The devastating grief that Kate's death caused was indescribable. She had been the perfect daughter. The best sister anybody could ask for. Everybody loved Kate. She had been Daniel and Eleanor Ashworth's pride and joy. It was no surprise to Jess that her parents fell apart after her death. A single tear slipped down her face. Thinking about her still hurt so much.

She wasn't sure whether it had been the guilt or the grief that made her turned a new leave after Kate's death. Perhaps it had been both. The girl who loved to party and get high transformed into someone who molded herself into a daughter her parents would be proud of. Not that they had noticed or even cared. Their Kate was gone and she was irreplaceable.

In her last year at high school, she stopped cutting classes and concentrated on her studies. Her talent in art had never been something she valued. She had been too engrossed in the life of an IT girl for anything else to matter. Her pain was her primary inspiration and it didn't take long before painting became her life. The perfect outlet for her emotions. She enrolled in the University of the Art London and got her BA (Hons) Painting at Camberwell College. Since her graduation, her paintings have been exhibited and sold in some of the most exclusive galleries in England.

Feeling drained and exhausted, she stretched out on the bed and pulled the covers over her head. If it hadn't been for her, the accident that killed her sister never would have taken place. She realized that she had never been in a dilemma. The decision was already taken for her.

***

Antoine alighted from his rented limousine, his gaze on the impressive if imposing building of the Saatchi Gallery; the many lights glittering around it gave it a surreal look. His hands went automatically to his pockets as his long legs ate up the distance between him and the front entrance. Stepping inside, his eyes scanned the crown looking for one particular blonde with anger issues. Elegantly dressed men and women milled about talking in hushed tones about the various art works on display.

It took him a while to locate Jess standing alone with a glass of champagne in her hand in front of a painting he assumed was hers. His blood heated with desire at the sight of her. Large and expressive, her unbearably magnificent eyes connected with his. They had always served as a mirror for her emotions giving him the advantage to be able to read and gauge her feelings just by looking at her. He always knew what button to push to get a desired reaction from her. Right now, they held a blank look that told him nothing.

An arrow of doubt pierced through his armour of confidence. He ruthlessly squashed the thought away. Defeat had never been a word associated with him and it was never going to.

The dread that enveloped her upon seeing Antoine didn't come as a surprise. What did was the way her pulse quickened with what she could only call an anticipation of the unknown that did. The man's commanding presence was as undeniable as was his captivatingly magnetic beauty. Jess watched fascinated as some of the women around her stared unabashedly at him with appreciative eyes. His devastating dark good looks and deadly charm drew women to him like moths to a flame.

He was the picture of opulent sophistication as he ambled towards her in an unhurried pace wearing a beautifully tailored designer pitch black suit that hugged his amazing physique to perfection. His diamond cuff-links glinted brightly as he impatiently brushed away a wayward lock of hair from his forehead. The expression in his eyes was one she had seen before but never directed at her. They were shining with male admiration. Excitement sizzled through her as she involuntarily basked in the glory of his bold appraisal. Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly very dry lips. As he stood beside her, his overwhelming presence did nothing good to her composure. She turned her attention to her painting to avoid meeting his intense eyes.

'I seem to be accumulating nothing but bad luck these days,' she said to him, eyes still fixed on the painting. 'The strain of being in your insufferable presence causes me is becoming unbearable.'

His eyes hungrily devoured her flawless lavender skin and he itched with the need to reach out and touch her. His hands clenched into fists at his sides. It was a miracle his voice sounded normal when he replied. 'You poor thing,' he said, not sounding the bit sympathetic. 'I would soon start to rub off on you and then you won't be able to get enough of me.'

The corners of her sexy mouth quirked in a smile. 'I really doubt that.'

It took a great effort to quit staring at her and turn his eyes to the masterpiece she created. 'Tell me about the painting.'

She was visibly taken about by the question. 'It's called Broken.'

'Why?'

'Why is it called Broken?'

'No, why did you paint it?'

Her eyes turned to his, the need to look at him too consuming to be ignored. 'Are you genuinely interested in the answer?'

'I wouldn't have asked if I wasn't,' he replied simply. 'I'm curious as to why you would choose to paint something that resonate so much heartache and despair. Is it a visual representation of something you went through?'

'You would like to hear that won't you?' she spat out, eyes glittering with hostility. 'Does the thought of my suffering give you pleasure?'

His predatory eyes glazed with an emotion she couldn't decipher. He opened his mouth as if to reply but no words came out. His gaze was eerily focused on the painting.

'It isn't a representation of my experience,' she said in a quiet voice, feeling perplexed by her own behavior. What was the need for such an outburst? Several people have asked her that question and she hadn't exploded on any of them. She was quick to remind herself that none of those people wanted to marry her for revenge. 'It is simply an image I had in my mind of a broken-hearted girl who lost all hope in life.'

Well that image had certainly materialized into something breath-taking. She truly was a gifted artist. The painting of the pretty girl wearing a simple white cotton dress sitting on a swing thrummed with a life of its own. Her brilliant sapphire eyes held the bleakest look he had ever seen. Her pain was so palpable, so poignantly conveyed by the expression on her face that Antoine could almost feel it himself.

A couple passing by stopped to observe the painting. 'Ben, I want that painting hanging in my living room,' she informed the man who appeared to be her husband in a firm voice.

'No arguments there, my love,' Ben readily agreed. 'I've never seen a more beautifully executed piece of art.'

'My sentiments exactly,' Antoine spoke up, regarding the couple with a friendly smile.

'Are you the artist?' the woman asked.

He shook his head. 'No,' he said in a rueful voice. 'This amazingly talented lady is.'

The woman extended her hand to Jess. 'Catherine James,' she introduced herself. 'You are a genius.'

'Thank you,' Jess replied flushed.

Catherine gave her a dazzling smile before moving on with her husband.

Her eyes trained on Antoine suspiciously. Did he just pay her a compliment? She couldn't help but wonder what the man's angle was now. There seemed to be no trace of the man who loved nothing more than heaping her with words of hostility. Was this some new ploy to get her to let her guard down? She couldn't be sure of anything in that moment. He looked sincere enough but she had no intention of trusting him so easily.

'Is this the only painting you are showing today?'

She shook her head. 'It was the only one that hadn't been spoken for.'

He drew closer until they were nearly touching. In a voice completely devoid of the tension that was tying his insides into knots; he asked the question he was dying to have answered. 'Have you made your decision?'

His sudden proximity set her off balance. She was very much aware that she couldn't delay the inevitable anymore. She needed to give her answer. The gravity of what she was about to do filled her with dread. She bumped into him in her haste to get away.

Antoine followed behind her as she hurriedly exited the gallery. He watched as she donned her coat on and leaned back against a tree, her exhaled breaths turning into smoke. The sharp bite of the chill seeped into his bones but he was obvious to it. His gut twisted with anxiety as he held his breath for her answer.

Her spun gold hair bellowed in the howling wind. She lowered her eyes, her eyelashes fanning her graceful cheekbones. At that moment, Antoine was absolutely convinced that a more beautiful woman wasn't in existence.

'Yes,' she breathed the word, eyes still downcast. 'My answer is yes.'

She released a shaky breath and prayed to God that she hadn't just been the architect of her own doom. She didn't hear him move. Her shocked gasp when he snaked his hands beneath her coat was evident of that. The feel of his hands on her back turned her legs into jelly. She held on to the lapels of his sable coat to keep from falling, bringing him infinitely closer; so close that she could breathe in his heady scent.

Jess couldn't have been hotter if she had stepped into a furnace. His mouth was tantalizingly near, a breath away from hers. The need to sample its hidden delights burned brighter than the harsh rays of the sun. Her breasts felt heavy, aching with arousal.

Without the slightest bit of warning, his mouth slanted over hers and ended her silent torment. His tongue eased into the hot cavern of her mouth, expertly tangling with hers in an erotic dance that had her arching up against him wantonly. When her lust addled brain was capable of coherent thought again she was absolutely sure she was going to regret this. At that particular moment, all she wanted was to give into the exquisite sensations that filled her body as he ravaged her mouth in an earth shattering kiss that was more like a claiming.

She responded with an ardor that tore an animal groan from him. His searing touch as his wandering hands caressed the lower sides of her breasts caused her nipples to tighten painfully. The wild throbbing that had begun in her pelvis steadily built a rhythm eliciting soft moans from her throat. The blissful decadence of it all reduced her world into a bubble of heat and pleasure with Antoine at the centre of it; kindling the embers of her desire into a blazing inferno of need that only he could satisfy.

He gently broke the kiss, his hooded amber eyes banked with barely unleashed lust. Her hands let go of his coat as she staggered back against the tree. What had he done to her? She was thoroughly shaken while he looked barely flustered by what had just happened. He removed a ring from his pocket and slipped it on the fourth finger of her right hand.

She stared at the eighteen carat diamond ring on her finger. 'What's this?'