Dark Chocolate Murder (11 page)

“You would think my boy never had ice cream before!  What has
Tante
Nathalie been feeding you?” Pierre chuckled.

“Vegetables from her garden!
  In a soup!” Marc pouted.

“But that’s very healthy!” Pierre insisted, but to no avail.  Marc shook his head in wild disagreement.

“Seems like a normal child to me!” Belinda commented humorously.

“Yes
, he is.  He’s a very happy boy.”

In less than five minutes they had arrived at an ice cream parlor that sold a myriad of flavors, most of which Belinda didn’t recognize.  “Now
, I consider myself a connoisseur of sweets, but some of these flavors are outlandish!”

Pierre grinned.  “This is an Asian-themed ice cream parlor.  They
have flavors like green tea, red bean, and mochi ball that you wouldn’t find in most American or European shops.  But Marc likes the traditional, right?  What are your three scoops going to be?”

“Chocola
te, vanilla, and strawberry!” The boy answered emphatically.

“See what I mean?  He likes the classics.”

“He is adorable.  And he looks just like you.  Somehow I knew he would,” Belinda complimented.

Pierre was already more relaxed than he had been in his sister’s presence.  Casually, he replied, “Yes, he is my boy.”

“Papa, did she say I’m adorable?”

“Well, why don’
t you ask her?  Don’t be shy.” Pierre gestured towards Belinda who waited expectantly.

Marc wrinkled his nose and asked, “You think I’m adorable?”

“Yes, I certainly do!” Belinda exclaimed.

Shyly, Marc clung to his father’s side and whispered, “This lady is pretty, Papa.”

“I’m assuming you heard that?” Pierre asked wryly.

“Yes, I did,
” Belinda laughed.  “But that was a good try at being secretive, Marc!”

The trio walked outside to eat their ice cream on a picnic bench.  When the last drop of ice cream had been licked clean, Pierre led them to
a park area with a set of swings, a slide, and other amusements.  Squishing himself in between Pierre and Belinda, Marc grabbed each of their hands.  As Marc’s sticky, moist fingers clutched hers, she felt as though she were walking alongside her own little boy.  Magically, Belinda felt like she, Pierre, and Marc were a family.  Sighing contentedly, she obligingly let go of Marc’s hand as he raced to the swings, plopping himself down on one and pumping his legs.

“Look how high, Papa!” Marc called.

“What a strong boy!” Pierre replied proudly.

Sitting down on a bench next to Belinda, he said softly, “I think you and Marc are going to get along very well.  He likes you.  I think he may even have a crush on you!”

Belinda gazed down modestly.  “Pierre, thank you for introducing your son to me.  I know that’s not a little thing, and I don’t mean that because of what Nathalie said.  It really is a privilege for me to meet him.”

“It’s a privilege for me to have you to introduce to him.  You’re
a spectacular woman, Belinda.” Pierre looked deep into her eyes as he spoke.  “You don’t have to say anything.  Just believe me.”

“I do,” Belinda whispered passionately.

“We’ll let Marc play for a little while longer.  Then we’ll bring him back to Nathalie’s so we can continue the evening in privacy.  Well, until we head over to your sister’s house, that is.”

Belinda rose from t
he bench and led Pierre over to the see-saw where Marc was waiting for a partner.  Obligingly, Belinda sat on one end of the see-saw as the little boy shouted happily.  Stone faced, Pierre watched his lover and son play together.  His blank expression did not reflect the warmth that radiated through him at the touching sight.  Standing at a distance, he wished he had a camera with him.  Spontaneously, he took out his cell phone and snapped a candid photo.

“You look so beautiful!” Pierre called to Belinda as she blushed, seeing him with the camera phone.  In total contentment, Pierre spent the remainder of the day playing like a big kid with his child.  It was the cherry on top of a syrupy sweet sundae that beautiful Belinda Rockland was there too.

Chapter Eight

Night had descended when Belinda and Pierre finally rolled up to Crystal’s house.  Giggling like teenagers, the couple stumbled through the driveway, giddy from far too much wine at dinner.  As they walked unsteadily, Belinda accidentally kicked a rock, causing it to go flying up the driveway, smashing against the house. This mishap produced uproarious laughter from a very inebriated Belinda.  She pointed at the spot where the rock had landed, erupting with louder laughter.

“You are so much fun!” Pierre exclaimed, wr
apping a possessive arm around her waist.

“You bring it out of me,”
Belinda replied honestly, standing on her toes to deposit an impromptu kiss on his wine-sweet lips.

From the entrance to the foyer, Jean-Jacques and Crystal stood peering at them curiously.  Crystal had her hands on her hips, and in the gleaming moonlight, Belinda thought she perceived a flash of envy in her green eyes.  Jean-Jacques took the lead and gestured grandly for his guests to enter.

“Welcome to our home,” he said, reaching out a hand to shake with Pierre.

“
Merci beaucoup
. Pleased to meet you both,” Pierre said cordially.

Crystal stared
unabashedly at Pierre, raking her eyes over his body from head to toe and back up again.  She seemed to be appraising him, and he clearly met with her approval.  Belinda frowned as Crystal’s eyes remained glued to Pierre’s body.  Why was she acting this way tonight?  Perhaps she had drunk too much wine as well earlier in the evening.

“Crystal and Jean-Jacques, this is Pierre C
édaire.  We met at my shop last week,” Belinda provided the formal introductions, shooting Crystal a warning glare as her eyes still devoured Pierre.

Finally snapping out of her dream state, Crystal averted her eyes from Pierre and looked apologeti
cally at her sister.  Growing up in Massachusetts, the Rockland girls had always adhered to a strict sisterly code: look at the other’s boyfriend as though he were your brother.  Crystal knew that she had favored Pierre with anything but a platonic stare, and she felt ashamed.  The sisters had never let a man damage their bond, and she certainly didn’t want to start now.  But he
was
an exceptionally gorgeous man…

Jean-Jacques didn’t seem to notice the crackling of tension between Belinda and Crystal.  Amiably, he guided the group onto the veranda where they sat down to
a snack of coffee and cake in the brisk night air.

After an hour of light-hearted conversation, Belinda yawned conspicuously.  “I don’t mean to cut this short, but I have to be at the shop bright and early.”

“But the boutique doesn’t open until noon,” Crystal pouted.

“Yes, but I have to get there early to make fresh chocolates and set everything up,” Belinda said impatiently.  “And it’s been a very long day.”

Secretly, Belinda was disappointed that she and Pierre hadn’t made love again.  Joining together just once that afternoon had been a tease, and she found herself hungry for much more.

Belinda was grateful when Jean-Jacques let out a yawn of his own and said, “I do have a
business meeting to get to early tomorrow morning myself.  It’s been a very pleasant evening.  Thank you both for stopping by.”

“Thank you, Jean-Jacques.
” Belinda leapt eagerly to her feet and gave her brother-in-law a quick hug.

Crystal tepidly
kissed Belinda on the cheek and limply shook Pierre’s hand.  Since staring him down earlier, Crystal had hardly looked in the man’s direction.  Belinda and Pierre waved a final goodbye to the married couple before speeding off with the sunroof open and vanishing into the night.

*****

Arriving on Belinda’s street, Pierre set the car into park but did not remove his seatbelt.  She frowned, wondering why he wasn’t asking to come inside.  Belinda thought about inviting him in but didn’t want to be pushy.  The man had already spent the entire day with her and met her family.  Now was the time to let go and say a gracious goodnight…

“You don’t want to come inside?” She blurted out, instantly regretting it.

“What?” Pierre asked, surprised.

“I mean, you just want to drop me off and leave?” The words streamed out of her mouth uncontrollably.

Slowly, a flicker of understanding illuminated his eyes.  “Oh, I do want to come inside.  I really do.  But I know you have to work tomorrow…and…” he trailed off.

“And what? If you really wanted to come inside, you would,” Belinda said sulkily while in her head she screamed at herself
Shut Up!

Smirking, Pierre grabbed Belinda’s hand and placed it on his zipper.  Instantly, she felt the same throbbing hardness that had been there when
they made love. 
Oh, so he really does want to come inside
. 
Why am I so insecure that I don’t believe him?

“I hope that clears up any doubt about whether I want to come inside,” Pierre whispered unevenly.  “I had a wonderful day with you.  And I hope to have
many more.  But I think we should say good night for now.  I’m trying to court you, remember?”

In a flash, Belinda remembered the gourmet meal he had prepared
for her on their first date.  And he had introduced her to his treasured son for goodness sake!  Somehow, the chemistry and courtship had dangerously intermingled, but they still coexisted, she realized.  Yes, this was all new to her.

Looking at him through veiled eyes, Belinda said, “I remember.  Good night, Pierre.”

Giving him a tantalizingly brief kiss, Belinda swayed her hips out of the car, reclaiming her power as Pierre stared after her, enchanted.  She hoped he would dream of her that night.  Dream of her and wish she were in his arms easing that magnificent hardness…

*****

Belinda awoke at dawn, stretching luxuriantly on the carpet before dragging herself to the shower.  A few minutes later, s
itting down at her laptop with a cup of coffee, Belinda composed a long overdue email to Lenore.  In the message, she spilled the whole story from how she met Pierre in her shop to how she had slept with him on, gulp, the second date. 
Do you think I ruined my chances of a relationship with him?  I mean, the second date is always too soon, right?  Signed, Your Neurotic Friend, Belinda.

After she hit ‘send’ Belinda
stepped away from the computer for a couple of hours to balance the books of her shop.  Punching the numbers into her cell phone’s calculator, she was astonished to see that in just a week’s time, Belinda’s Chocolate Boutique had already garnered a 25% profit.  That was an excellent margin for anytime during a business’s first year, as a loss or breakeven was generally to be expected.  But for the first week?  Belinda was officially walking on air.

Massaging the kinks from her neck after hunching over the books, Belinda returned to her computer to see if Lenore had already replied to her email.  She had.  Belinda drew in a grateful breath as she read her friend’s words of
wisdom.

Hi Girl, yes you, Miss Vagabond, Well you know I say things best with a poem, so scroll down for one of those in a moment.  But let me start by saying that it’s never too soon for two people with a connection.  If it’s going to fall apart, it’ll fall apart even if you stayed celibate for a year! (Actually, it would definitely fall apart if you did that!) Forget the old rule book and just follow that big heart of yours.  It’s led you the right way so far. You’d still be in Boston running errands for Jerky if you hadn’t followed your heart!  I’m so excited for you.  Is his name really Pierre?  Love that name and love you.  N
ow go read my poem and love me!

Aflame

Strawberries, gingham and wine,

Fire, blood, color divine.

Crimson, cherry and scarlet,

Vermilion, rubies, garnet.

Tulips, passion and sunset,

Sea coral, apples, fleurettes.

Paintbrush of romance spreads a flaming array,

Sanguine emotions in claret,

Cardinals and robins flying away,

Each of them yearns and bursts to say:

This I beg, the very thought chafes past the bone;
I am Red and cannot bear to be alone.

Belinda lay back on a cushion and reread the poem out loud.  She repeated the last line over and over again
like a magic spell. 
I am Red and cannot bear to be alone
.  Touching a hand to her auburn mane, Belinda thought how cleverly Lenore had personified a color.  Red was not only the color of Belinda’s hair, but it was also the shade of passion, desire…all the things she felt when she was near Pierre.  Red was meant to be red and could not be a neutral color like beige or gray.  And love was meant to be love, could not be repressed no matter how hard two people tried.  She had just done what was natural by sharing her body with Pierre.  Shutting off her computer, Belinda decided there would be no regrets, no matter what happened---or didn’t happen---with Pierre in the future.