Page 40 of Meet Me at Sunset

Camille gasped, enraged by his arrogance. But it was impossible to ignore the way her heart was racing, the way her body was already yearning for his touch. There was no way she could say no, and he knew it.

Chapter 17

That first drink was just the beginning. Camille and Andre met almost daily after that. She found him irresistible, unable to stay away from him.

She was aware that she couldn’t stop talking about him to Nicolas. It was as though she wanted to share how extraordinary Andre was with the most important person in her life: Nicolas. She knew it made no sense, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.

The two men met one evening, unexpectedly, in a bar.

‘That’s Andre,’ Camille said, gripping Nicolas’s arm as his rival walked in the door. Nicolas couldn’t fail to notice the way she lit up when she saw him, excitement written across her face as her almond eyes followed him across the room.

Andre spotted her within seconds, coming over to introduce himself to Nicolas. Camille felt giddy, as though her parents were meeting her new date for the first time. It was a completely messed-up situation, and Camille knew it. She was undoubtedly in love with Nicolas, but falling hard for Andre at the same time, and she had no idea what to do about it. She was barely eating, hardly sleeping, unable to focus on her studies for the first time. Her head was all over the place. She was young, beautiful and in love – with two men simultaneously.

Nicolas was as polite as ever. He shook Andre’s hand and said warmly, ‘Good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘You too. You’re a very lucky man,’ Andre replied.

‘I know,’ Nicolas said evenly. Camille could see that he was determined not to fall into the trap that Andre had set. Nicolas wouldn’t try to compete with Andre, or one-up him, or indulge in over-the-top displays of affection towards Camille that hinted at hidden insecurities. He was dignified and honourable, and Camille loved him for that.

But the chemistry between her and Andre was sizzling. She could feel how every eye in the room turned to him, how every woman gravitated to him, and it roused Camille’s competitive instincts. She longed to be the one he desired, the one he took home at the end of the night. Andre outshone Nicolas in every way – he was taller, broader, more handsome, and immaculately dressed – and Camille was dazzled by him, yet at the same time she felt horribly guilty. She loved Nicolas, but the sparks between her and Andre were impossible to ignore.

‘I’ll go get some more drinks. What are you having?’ Nicolas asked Andre pleasantly.

‘I’d love a beer,’ Andre smiled. Nicolas nodded and left, and Andre turned to Camille. ‘That’s the famous Nicolas? I don’t get the attraction. You might as well be dating your accountant.’ He slid his arm around Camille, one hand splayed across her bottom as he leaned in to nuzzle her neck.

‘Andre, stop,’ Camille protested weakly, but his touch sent electricity through her body, sparks intensifying in her stomach and moving lower.

She pulled away when Nicolas came back through the crowd, though she knew her cheeks must be flushed, her face betraying her desire.

‘So, Andre, I hear you know everything there is to know about the fashion world,’ Nicolas began, and Andre smiled in response. Camille watched their conversation, each gently testing the other, but she could see that Nicolas was winning Andre over, the latter forming a grudging respect for his rival.

A few evenings later, Camille came home late from the part-time waitressing job that helped fund her studies to find Andre in her apartment, the two men sharing a bottle of brandy and discussing investment strategies.

The sight threw her – the two of them together, and her attraction to both. There was Andre with his good looks and easy charm, then Nicolas with a quiet determination, and the inexplicable, unbreakable connection between him and Camille. She felt her stomach flip with excitement and confusion. How French! She knew this situation couldn’t continue indefinitely. It was as though she was walking a tightrope and would inevitably fall, but she didn’t know who would catch her.

‘Camille.’ Nicolas noticed her, and she walked over to kiss him, aware of Andre’s eyes on them.

‘Bonsoir,’ he smirked, his wolfish eyes flashing over her, though he didn’t alter his relaxed pose. ‘I was having a little trouble with our latest essay from Professor Henry – the finer points of finance are not my strong point. I have to say, Nicolas is a genius.’

‘Isn’t he?’ Camille beamed, stroking his hair affectionately.

‘Between the three of us we could take over the world. Maybe we should all go into business together after we graduate.’

Camille laughed, but the idea was appealing and lodged in her brain. This was why she adored Andre – he was bold and driven, his ambition unstoppable.

She knew that Nicolas loved her unconditionally, that he would always support her and never let her down. When she envisaged their future, she saw them as comfortable and secure, with Nicolas working in a steady job, the two of them living in a nice apartment, hosting dinner parties at the weekend and spending their summers in Provence or on the Île de Ré. With Andre, however, the possibilities felt limitless. He promised her the earth, and she believed he’d deliver it.

One day after lectures, Andre approached her in the corridor. ‘You’ve been avoiding me, Camille.’

It was true. Being around him weakened her resolve, and she’d vowed to stay true to Nicolas. But the physical pull between her and Andre was impossible to ignore. She looked up at him and knew she was lost. ‘Andre, please, it’s not fair …’

Andre pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply. Electricity went racing through her body, and thoughts of Andre consumed her. It was as though she couldn’t think straight, couldn’t behave rationally, didn’t care about anything else when she was with him. Her judgement was clouded by lust, pure and simple.

‘I want you, Camille. Leave him for me. You said you’d do it before. Promise me. We can be so good together. We’ll have an amazing life, and you’ll have everything you ever wanted, I promise you.’

Camille stared back into his dark eyes and felt as though she was falling. ‘All right,’ she promised, feeling that she would have agreed to anything in that moment. ‘I’ll do it.’

Telling Nicolas was the hardest thing she’d ever done. She couldn’t shake the feeling, deep in the pit of her stomach, that she was making a huge mistake. She’d been determined not to cry, but she broke down in floods of tears. Nicolas was stoic, and she hated to be the one who was crying when she was the one who was breaking them up.