Just To Be With You (The Sullivans #12)(22)

Tatiana had quickly learned in Hollywood that only an insecure woman needed to compete. The truly successful, truly confident women always forged their own paths, and didn’t give a fig what anyone thought about them or their choices, fashion or otherwise.

“Tatiana,” Ian said in a tense voice, “this is Chelsea, my ex-wife.” Tatiana could see that he was worried about what was about to go down between the two women in his office, and she wished she could reassure him.

But right now she had to hold focus on avenging him.

Ian might not be hers, but five minutes ago she’d been certain they were at least on their way to becoming friends. And she refused to tolerate anyone speaking to one of her friends the way his ex-wife just had.

Tatiana forced herself to take a couple of steps toward the horrible woman. “Hello,” she said, holding out her hand in such a friendly way that there was no way his ex could have refused to shake it. Since there was no better way to let the very competitive woman know she wasn’t a threat than by giving her an honest compliment, Tatiana said, “Your dress is beautiful.”

“It is, isn’t it? It’s always such a thrill to wear a one-of-a-kind Christianna original.”

Tatiana could have spectacularly one-upped Chelsea by informing her that she had just been asked to become the face of Christianna’s couture design house in Europe. But she wasn’t here to compete for the crown of Queen Bee. She was here to put the other woman in her place as quickly as possible so that she’d leave Ian alone.

Then again...thinking about Ian’s check burning a hole in Chelsea’s purse helped Tatiana decide that sometimes it might not only be okay to stoop a little low, but it might be downright necessary.

“I’ll be sure to let Christianna know you’re pleased with her designs when I see her in Paris in a couple of weeks for my Golden Globes fitting.”

Tatiana might have laughed at the jealous fury that leaped into the woman’s eyes were she not still so furious about the way Chelsea had marched in and demanded money from Ian.

Money he’d given her without a fight...

“You’re so much curvier than you seemed to be in your last film,” Chelsea said in a voice so sweet it practically gave Tatiana a sugar rush. “I hope your fitting goes well.”

This time, Tatiana couldn’t stop her laughter from bubbling up and out. She’d met plenty of competitive actresses in the past ten years, but Ian’s ex trumped them all. “Casting directors usually just jump past curvy and go straight for the word fat.” But she’d already easily shrugged off the insult. “I know Kate Moss said nothing tastes better than being thin, but I’m pretty sure she’d change her mind if she ever tasted the chocolate truffles we had for dessert at Ian’s parents’ house on Friday night.”

“You’re not fat,” Ian growled as he moved between them. Turning his scowl on his ex, he said, “You got what you came for, Chelsea.”

“I know,” Chelsea said, holding up her hands as if he was the one on the wrong foot, rather than she. “You’re ready for me to leave so that you can get back to business. Believe me, I remember what it was like being married to you. Business always came first then, and clearly it still does.” His ex gave Tatiana a pitying glance. “I don’t know how the two of you met...”

With every word that fell from the woman’s blood-red lips, Ian’s tension seemed to rise, and the instinct to protect him from anything else his horrible ex-wife had to say had Tatiana reaching for his hand. “We met at a wedding.”

The need to protect him quickly turned into something that ran even deeper as she stared down at her hand in his and was rocked by such a strong jolt of sensual—and emotional—awareness that she found herself confessing, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man look better in a suit.” But it was what she saw on his face when she looked up into his eyes that had her continuing to speak straight from her heart, only for him, their audience completely forgotten. “All it took was one handshake for me to fall for you, Ian.” Palm-to-palm, the memories of that first time they’d touched came rushing back.

“Trust me,” Ian’s ex-wife said, shattering the moment with all the precision of a baseball hurled straight through a plate-glass window, “Ian might be good in bed, but even the best orgasms in the world don’t make up for what it’s like to live with him. Or should I say, not live with him, since I promise you that after he gets over his current infatuation, even you are only going to see him when he needs to screw away his tension from a business deal gone bad.”

“It’s past time for you to go, Chelsea.” This time Ian put his hand on her arm to make sure she didn’t linger. Unfortunately, her heavy scent did.

Tatiana would never be able to wear Chanel No. 5 again.

She had wanted to teach his ex-wife a lesson, but she hadn’t planned on doing it like that, by finally opening up her heart to Ian so suddenly. And so completely. It was simply that she hadn’t had it in her to lie about her feelings for him—not even to his ex-wife.

Interestingly, though, Tatiana was certain that it had also been the best possible way to strike out at the other woman. Because nothing could have infuriated her more than knowing how thoroughly she’d been forgotten by her ex-husband.

Chelsea was his past.