TEMPTRESS

I.

ANGÈLE JOSÉPHINE MONET LAURENT CHASTIN - PARIS, FRANCE 1968

"Are you ready to order, mademoiselle?" The waiter asked, his eyes glued on the young dark blonde woman in front of him. She, on the other hand, didn't even bat her eyelash at him. Sure, she had noticed him, but he hadn't caught her attention. He wasn't worth it. She leaned forward staring at the black menu in front of her and delicately looked at her order.

She ran her hand through her wavy hair, the wind ruffling it up, her deep brown eyes finally coming into contact with the waiters' bright brown ones. "I'll have the Vernaccia di Gimignano." She ordered in the most flawless Italian accent he had ever heard, her lips softly turning upwards as she sultrily smiled at him.

The waiter was fascinated, to say the least. He was intrigued, attracted, lured. He felt drawn towards her enticing aura. He did not even want to walk away from her but was content enough with bringing her her food and her wine which meant he got to see more of this alluring woman. He was convinced he had never seen someone like her walk into this random petite restaurant—Cafe de Flore.

As he turned his back towards her, disappointed from not seeing her face and figure, he started to wonder. How did she speak with such a flawless accent? What made her think this was the restaurant for her? What kind of woman orders a Vernaccia di Gimignano? Was she claimed for? Why was she here alone?

She sat down waiting for her order as she gripped her black baguette bag, pulling out her small pack of Marlboro red, opening it and taking one thin cigarette out. She placed the stick between her lips, her red lipstick staining the circumference of the cigarette.

As she was about to take out her lighter, she saw a red flame flashing in front of her, a hand covering it from the wind. She looked at the rough man-hands holding it up for her, a man clearly in his thirties was grinning at her as he offered to light her cigarette for her. "Je peux vous aider, Mademoiselle?" The man spoke up, flashing a smile as if she'd fall weak to the knees.

She locked eyes with him as she leaned forward inhaling softly. The man, too enticed, was lost in her eyes as he still stood their over her, holding the flame. She smirked to herself as she looked at the man and exhaled deeply blowing smoke onto his flame, grasping his attention. He nodded firmly and went back to his circular table he was sitting with another man, who him too, was amazed.

She sat there as she smoked her cigarette, blowing the smoke into the dark night. The street lamps gave the smoke a shadow. A seductive smile playing against her lips as she watched a familiar figure walking up towards her. Her personal Chef. She grinned as he approached her, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones. "I'm sorry." He apologized as he leaned forward and placed a deep kiss against her lips.

Everyone else saw it. She had been claimed, declared. She was his.

"I got held back at the school." He said as he parted the kiss, his lips slightly tainted with her red lipstick.

"Don't worry about it." She smiled and carefully wiped his lips. He kissed her once again, ruining her efforts, before sitting down next to her and placed his left hand on her lap. He slipped his fingers underneath her red silk slip dress, feeling her warm soft skin against his fingertips.