CultOfTheBlackVirgin (6 page)

Oh man, stop it! Not cool. Not good.

N’y pense même pas. Don’t even think about it.

But, no. He couldn’t let it go.

He had to talk to her. Maybe she was dumb. Nothing turned him off faster than stupidity. If she wasn’t terribly bright, or just dull, even, he might stand a chance of getting through this trip without doing something very stupid.

* * * *

As she walked, Luc’s damp pants kept drawing Jo’s attention from the pretty scenery. Away from the brilliant blue and white skies, away from the golden fields of fresh cut hay, the rolling green hills covered in herbs and flowers, and the magnificent
châteaux
that dotted the landscape. Any of these scenes would have made a charming subject for a sketch, but during their frequent rest stops she kept her sketchbook firmly closed. She wasn’t interested anymore.

She only briefly noted the coolness and shadows of the walnut and oak groves as she passed through them. She could hear the birds singing, but their songs failed to enchant her, as they would have only the day before. She barely noticed the various species of wildflowers as she practically trod on them, although native flora had been one of the main reasons she wanted to walk through his part of France. She didn’t feel like stopping to take photos, even when someone drew her attention to a particularly interesting plant.

She was too distracted.

The quaint villages, their empty streets lined with fairy-tale conical-roofed houses, failed to capture her imagination. She ignored the murders of crows sitting on tree branches, watching the walkers carefully as they passed below. She wasn’t even charmed by the attentions of a friendly dog that decided to follow them for the last few miles into Lacave. Normally she would have made a big fuss about the dog. She loved dogs. And birds of all kinds.

At one point, Thomas and Ellen Arnold caught up to her and began a pleasant conversation. Professor Thomas was retired from thirty years of lecturing in medieval history at Christchurch College at Oxford, and Ellen was retired from her office job at the same college. Although white-haired and at least a decade older than the fifty-somethings in the group, they in no way, despite Ellen’s dirndl skirts, would ever slow the group down. They’d probably been born while their respective mothers were out walking the moors, Jo thought.

But right now she was grateful for their kindness as they encouraged her to talk about herself.

Eventually, though, it was her turn to walk alongside Luc. She hadn’t said a word to him since lunchtime and felt discomforted when he fell into step beside her. He turned his playfully inquisitive eyes to hers and in a cool, professional voice asked, “So you have spent a week in Paris? What did you see?”

Given what had already passed between them, Jo didn’t want to engage in meaningless chat. She knew he was just doing his job, but she resented it. Hiding behind her sunglasses, she gave terse, almost rude, answers, a minimum of information.

“Oh, you know. The usual.”

“The usual?” His smile showed that he was not put off.

“Yes. I’ve been to Paris before. This time I was with my boyfriend.”

Boyfriend? That sounds so dumb.
She felt herself blushing.
What else could I say? My lover? My partner? My fiance-to-be?

“So then I won’t ask you what you did,” he said quietly and changed the subject.

She was glad she could say she hadn’t been in Paris alone. She wanted Luc to know she had a lover. It might cause him to back off. Then she’d have a chance to behave normally again.

While she walked beside him she was careful to avoid those mesmerizing eyes, but instead she found she couldn’t stop looking at his body. At his still-damp pants, his crotch, as if she had absolutely no control over where her eyes rested. This was embarrassing and infuriating to her.

Oh Christ! Not only am I almost incapable of polite conversation, I can’t even control my eyes! Can he see where I’m looking? Are these glasses dark enough? He must be able to see that I can’t keep my eyes off him. Can anyone else see?

* * * *

Someone else did notice Jo’s nervousness. Glenda Evans, walking behind them, commented to her husband Edward in a low voice that Luc seemed to be having some difficulty with Jo.

Glenda said, “It’s the oddest thing. Everyone else warmed to Luc instantly, but Joanna seems twitchy around him. I wonder why.”

She liked Jo, and was concerned that she might be on the wrong vacation.

“Give her some time, dear,” her husband replied. “I think she’s running away from something, and probably hasn’t settled in with us yet.”

Glenda knew her psychologist husband was usually right about this sort of thing, and nodded silently.

* * * *

After a while Luc, too, began to sense Jo’s agitation, so he tried to pull her out by asking about her home. Once he learned she lived in Seattle, he grew animated.

“I know Seattle! I visited that beautiful city three years ago. I delivered a paper at an archaeological symposium at the University of Washington. It’s a most impressive city. I particularly enjoyed taking the ferry across to the Olympic Peninsula. Yes, it’s a beautiful city,” he repeated.

Some of Jo’s discomfort dissolved as she thought about Luc speaking at the university she’d attended as an undergraduate.

“Yes, I’m very fortunate to live in such a wonderful city. Did you see any other part of the state while you were there? Did you go into the interior?” she asked, gaze focused firmly on the path ahead of her.

“No, I didn’t make it inland, but I took a ferry north to Vancouver Island in Canada and spent a week on the West Coast Trail. I’d wanted to hike that trail for many years. It was spectacular.”

“Really?” Jo instantly warmed, in spite of herself. “I did that same hike, just last year. It’s an amazing part of the world, isn’t it?” She felt better now, excited to think that Luc had trudged the same paths and climbed over the same fallen logs that she’d stumbled over.

“Yes, amazingly
wet
.” He laughed. “It rained every single day. Our camping gear and all my clothes got soaked and remained that way for the whole week.”

Jo laughed too, having found her voice.

“The rain was a problem for us, too. But at least it didn’t rain
every
day. It rains a lot in Seattle, so I guess I’m pretty much used to it.”

Luc turned to smile at her without missing a step, causing her heart to pick up its pace. He seemed impressed she’d completed the challenging trail.

“You carried all your own gear?”

“I did.” She made no attempt to hide the pride in her voice.

His blue gaze moved up and down her body appraisingly. “That’s quite a feat.”

“But I whined about it the whole way. You should have heard me.” She laughed again. It felt good to laugh, as if she’d been holding her breath for a long time.

She was pleased there was some common ground established between them now. He knew a bit about her world, and she was beginning to learn something of his. These snippets of information made him more real to her, less like a male animal and more like a human being. She was beginning to like him.

What would it have been like to have met him in some other time and place? Before he was attached. Before I knew James. When we were both still free to act on our mutual attraction. Would we have become lovers? Would we have been good together?

She glanced at the aquamarine on her finger and felt a wave of guilt for even considering these questions. A dull ache of loss, or regret, rose to the surface of her consciousness. Recognizing it, she quickly chastised herself for being a fool.

You idiot! Don’t even go there!

I should be celebrating my time here in France, not pining for something I was never meant to have.

After their conversation
Luc fell behind to walk with Ron and Marcie, and Jo could hear him asking Ron about his job at Scotland Yard. Under normal circumstances, she too would have been interested in what Ron had to tell, but not today. She walked the rest of the way alone, lost in her thoughts.

Relief for Jo’s agitation came, finally, in the form of a one-hotel town—Lacave. Their accommodation was a modest guesthouse situated between the famous
Grotte de Lacave
and yellow fields of ripe grain. The fabulous
Château de Belcastel
looked down on them from its cliff-side, and the clear blue and gold air was full of the scent of freshly cut hay. The scene was completely enchanting. Her luggage was waiting for her in the lobby, and Jo was grateful to find a bathtub in her room. Soon, for the second time that day, she found herself all wet, thinking of Luc, all wet.

Dinner was at eight, but everyone was eager to meet as soon as possible for Happy Hour drinks and to talk about their day. Most of the walkers enjoyed each other’s company, apparently. Jo, too, could barely wait to make herself up for the evening ahead. During the afternoon, she’d been content to be alone. She needed the time to sort out her feelings for the man she wanted but couldn’t have, and for the man back home she knew she should embrace. But now it seemed that after being away from Luc for only an hour she was eager to see him again.

After stepping out of the bath she stood in front of a full-length mirror and toweled herself dry. Yes, her body was as good as it had ever been, even though she had just left her twenties behind. Her skin was smooth and taut, and yoga, pilates, and swimming worked together to keep her limbs strong and toned. Her breasts were still firm and high, her waist slender, her hips rounded.
What would Luc think
, she wondered. She’d seen rather a lot of his body, today in the river, and he’d caught a glimpse of hers.

I wish I could show him more. I’d love to watch his eyes when he looks at me.

As she remembered the way he’d jumped out of the water onto the riverbank, rivulets of water coursing down the muscles of his beautiful back, her nipples began to harden. She rubbed them, letting her hands linger to cup the heavy fullness of her breasts. She imagined what the mirror would show her if Luc were to come up behind her and wrap his arms around her naked body.

A head taller than me. His skin brown in contrast to mine, his arms twice the size of mine, able to surround my entire body…

Stop it! Get dressed, you fool!

She rolled her eyes at herself for being so ridiculous, and began to examine her clothes carefully, rejecting two or three of her limited number of outfits before choosing a clinging black and white skirt and a sleeveless black top that revealed just a hint of
décolletage
. Her open-toed sandals showed off pink painted toenails. Then she took extra care with her hair and make-up. She couldn’t help it if she wanted to look pretty.

For Luc.

Jo was not stupid. She knew perfectly well she was dancing on slippery ground, but she wanted to push herself a little—to experiment with her new feelings. She wanted to flirt with Luc. Just a little.

No, I have no intention of doing anything foolish or embarrassing with our married tour guide. I’m not that kind of girl. Besides, I love James. I do.

But
,
I’m a woman, after all. A woman who also happens to be a healthy, lively animal.

She hadn’t felt like flirting with anyone for a long time. It would just be fun, nothing more than a delightful way to pass the evening. And the rest of the week.

Flirting with Luc will be like stretching muscles I haven’t used for a long time. Even though I haven’t used them for a while, it’s always good to know they’re still in working order.

She rationalized that she was a woman who would soon enough embark on a life-changing—life-shattering, her sister told her—commitment to marriage and motherhood. She should enjoy her freedom while she still had it. It might not last long.

I want to be myself for just a little while longer. I need to feel sexy and desirable, maybe for one of the last times in my life—who knows what changes a wedding ring and maternity will bring?

And I want to have fun
, she finally admitted to herself.

As long as I don’t make a fool of myself, what’s the harm in indulging in a good, healthy, and innocent sexual fantasy? None, right?

Right! Just be discrete. Just don’t drink too much, like last night. Play nice
.

All heads turned when Jo walked out onto the patio. Iris appeared to be scowling at her, but the others greeted her warmly and Duncan jumped up and pulled out the chair beside him. As she sat down, Peter said, “Well
hell
-o, darlin’. Aren’t you a lovely sight”?

Luc said nothing, but she was well aware of the signals his body was sending her way, and she smiled in acknowledgement as she sat down.

Glenda and Edward were drinking cooled white wine and offered to pour her a glass from their bottle. Some of the others had beer, but Duncan, Peter, and Luc were drinking something else. Jo had never seen anything like it, and was too shy to ask what the unpleasant-looking whitish drink could be. The wine was refreshing and very good, and as she drank and nibbled on local walnuts, she began to feel quite gay.