Foreign Affair

279 Pages·2016·1.1 MB·English

by  Stevens Shelli

Revenge can be sweet...and oh so sexy.

Lena Richards’s whirlwind vacation to Europe with a friend is a welcome
chance to shake her pre-wedding jitters—until she learns her high-school
sweetheart is cheating on her, Hawaiian-style. Figuring all’s fair, she indulges in
a fling of her own with a sexy New Yorker she meets in Amsterdam whose kiss
blows her mind—and the lid off her hormones.
Tyler Bentz is wary that the petite bombshell, who only a short time ago
insisted their one kiss must never happen again, has done a complete 180. His
questions only make it clear she’s interested in probing of the sexual kind. Who
is he to turn her down?
As they burn their way across Europe, something shifts, and it’s not just the
earth moving with their exploding passion. Lena begins to realize what it really
means to fall in love. And Tyler finds himself tumbling hard and fast.
Reality catches up with them in Paris, leaving Tyler to wonder if Lena’s
really the one, or if he’s nothing more to her than a pawn in her game of revenge.

Warning: Americans misbehaving in Europe. An attraction more potent than
any drug Amsterdam has to offer. A fling that breaks all the rules. And the
creative, sensual use of Chinese takeout.
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s
imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons,
living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249

Foreign Affair
Copyright © 2012 by Shelli Stevens
ISBN: 978-1-60928-557-9
Edited by Tera Kleinfelter
Cover by Scott Carpenter

All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever
without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Original Copyright: 2007
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: February 2012
www.samhainpublishing.com
Foreign Affair

Shelli Stevens
Dedication
Foreign Affair was the very first book I ever wrote, and I’m so thrilled
Samhain Publishing has given it a new home. Thank you to all my readers, my
family and friends, and anyone who’s helped let me live my dream of writing
and call it a career.
Chapter One
Lena Richards kept a bright smile pasted on her face as she listened to her
obnoxious client ramble on about Aspen. Be cheerful. Don’t let her know you’d like
to take a butter knife to those plastic breasts.
“I want the most exclusive lodge. Not some Travel Channel knockoff deal of
the week.” Her client tossed her head, but the platinum curls didn’t budge. “This
is my honeymoon, for Christ’s sake.”
“Of course.” Lena gave an understanding nod. The woman wore enough
dead animals to open a postmortem zoo. Beyond her clothing and accessories,
nothing about the woman looked real, and she hadn’t shut up since she’d
entered the travel agency. She was like one of those yakking dolls with a pull
string. Only this doll had a rack like a porn star and the personality of a pit bull.
“I don’t care what the cost. I’ll make my fiancé put it on his credit card.”
“A honeymoon is special. You deserve nothing but the best. Let me find
some brochures and information on Aspen for you.” Lena’s mouth curved into a
smile as she opened the file cabinet to her right. “I’m actually getting married
mysel—”
“I don’t give a damn if it’s my honeymoon or my weekend off. There’s
nothing more appalling than middle-class lodgings.” The woman crossed her
legs, and her gaze moved over Lena. Her lips thinned in obvious distaste.
What a bitch. Lena’s mouth tightened as she searched for the Aspen folder.
No doubt, she was being written off as some Walmart-shopping Pollyanna
from Hicksville.
Foreign Affair
All right, maybe she didn’t own a Louis Vuitton purse, and she didn’t own
some jacket made up of dead, skinned animal—not that she’d want to. She
worked at an upscale travel boutique. It brought in enough to pay the bills and
keep her dressed well, but in no way did it give her an allowance to support a
Hollywood wardrobe.
Lena forced her warmest smile. “Give me just a moment, Miss Monroe.”
Carolyn Monroe. Fifty bucks said the woman had her name changed legally so
she could thrive on a dead woman’s fame.
“Ah, here we are.” Lena placed the folder on the oak desk that separated
them.
As she sifted through for a particular brochure, she noticed Miss Monroe
eyeing a box of imported French truffles sitting on Lena’s desk.
“Another client brought those in. Please, have one.” Lena slid the box toward
her.
The woman looked horrified. “I couldn’t. Do you realize how much fat is in
just one?”
Yes, have five. Lena smiled and murmured, “I try not to look at the nutrition
label on those things.”
“Well, you should.”
Lena drew in a deep, calming breath and kept the smile on her face. This
woman just begged to be slapped. She found the brochure she needed and set it
aside, then took out a couple more.
“These are the more exclusive lodges. I might also add that the one on top is
famous for celebrity sightings.”
As she’d predicted, Miss Monroe’s eyes lit up with pleasure, and she
snatched the paper from her hand. “I’ll look these over and get back to you.”
“When is the wedding, if I might ask?”
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Shelli Stevens
The woman’s lips thinned. Interesting. Had it been because of the question?
Or perhaps a little turbulence in the engagement?
“Early summer, I imagine. My fiancé is an architect in New York. We’re still
working out the relocating bit.” Miss Monroe stood, slipping a purse that cost
more than Lena made in a week over her shoulder. “Thank you for your help,
Leah.”
“It’s Lena,” Lena corrected, but the woman had one foot out the door
already.
“Lord, am I sorry you got that one.”
Lena glanced up as her coworker, Lakisha, approached.
“Funny, I didn’t get that impression when you took off toward the break
room when she came in.” Lena smiled and then asked, “You think her boobs
were real?”
“About as real as my hair.” Lakisha pointed to her braided extensions.
“Wanna go get some lunch?”
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry. I had one of those drinkable yogurts on the
way over.”
“Okay, gross.” Lakisha shuddered. “That’s like drinking curdled milk or
something.”
Lena winced. “Thank you for that image. I probably won’t be having another
one anytime soon. I just started on them because Keith is encouraging me to get
down to a size six before the wedding.”
“Encouraging you?” Lakisha put her hands on her own wide hips and
glowered. “Sometimes I think that fiancé of yours has got a few screws loose in
his head. You ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of, girl. You got curves on that tiny
little body of yours.”
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Foreign Affair
“Mmm hmm.” Lena wasn’t about to argue that she had curves. Being five-
three and eating fast food once a week did that. Keith had been trying to convert
her to rabbit food for years. It wasn’t as if she hated it. She just didn’t want to eat
it all the time. She didn’t tell him about the occasional fast food she downed, so he
had the impression she lived as a devoted health nut.
Lena glanced at the clock. Lord, it was barely noon. Still five hours to go.
Pushing down an errant strand of her short, blonde hair, she sighed.
The movement must’ve drawn Lakisha’s gaze, because she frowned and
grabbed Lena’s hand.
“Where’s your ring? Seeing as you two finally set a date and all, you think
you’d be flaunting it like crazy now. Is he upgrading to a new one?”
“I’m getting it resized.” The engagement had been announced almost three
years ago. With all the time that had lapsed, the ring had gotten a little snugger.
Or I’ve gotten a little fatter. “I don’t think I’d want anything too flashy on my hand
anyway. Keith bought it with practicality in mind.”
“Now that just sounds like more romance than a gal can handle.” Lakisha’s
tone went dry.
Lena shoved the Aspen file back into the cabinet and frowned. “Romance is
overrated. It won’t secure your retirement or your kid’s college education.”
Lakisha stared at her a moment, blinked, and then threw her head back and
laughed.
“Good thing you don’t believe in romance, Lena, seeing who you’re
marrying and all.”
That comment resonated in her head long after she went home that night.

“Man, what a day.” Lena kicked the door shut and tossed her scarf onto the
couch.
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Shelli Stevens
When there was no response, she frowned and walked down the hall toward
the bedroom. “Keith?”
“In here, babe.”
She cringed, tempted to remind him there were better endearments than
babe. She followed the sound of his voice and wound up in the bathroom. “What
in the...uh, what are you doing?”
Keith glanced at her reflection in the mirror and paused, the tweezers frozen
midway back to his nose. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“Well...” She shook her head and averted her eyes, biting her lip to avoid
laughing. “Never mind. What did you want to do for dinner?”
“Oh, I already ate. Don’t worry about cooking anything.” He jerked another
hair from his nostril.
She crossed her arms, her irritation level kicking up a notch. “Actually, I
wasn’t offering to cook. I’ll just run down to Dave’s Deli and get a salad.”
As she turned to leave, Keith dropped the tweezers and reached for her
hand, pulling her back into the bathroom.
“That came out all wrong.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and
pulled her to him, dropping a small kiss on her lips. “I appreciate the offer, and
you know I love you.”
Lena pried his hands off her and took a step back. Had he always been this
dense?
“Of course I do, Keith. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”
She snatched her scarf back off the couch and left the house, shutting the
door with as much restraint as she could manage. After climbing back into her
car, she sat for a moment, glancing up at the lights of the house.
Keith had balanced himself pretty precariously on her emotional tightrope
lately. She’d found herself wondering, more than once, just how she’d ended up
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