Pyromancist (27 page)

Read Pyromancist Online

Authors: Charmaine Pauls

Tags: #erotica, #multicultural, #france, #desire, #secrets, #interracial, #kidnap, #firestarter, #fires, #recurring nightmare

BOOK: Pyromancist
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“And now?”

“Now I know you
are
my soul, that
without you, I don’t have a chance at life. You are my salvation.
My angel.”

She pressed against him and immediately his
body reacted.

“Kiss me, Josselin.”

He obliged. He took her face between his
hands and kissed her like he had promised himself he would if he
ever found her. No,
when
he found her.

* * * *

She gripped his hair and arched her neck,
giving him access to the tender flesh his lips were seeking. He
kissed her gently, but she could feel the urgency under the surface
of his touch. She wanted Josselin with all of her soul, but he was
already pulling away from her as she was trying to get closer. He
planted a final, feathery kiss on her shoulder before keeping her
at arm’s length. Physical need soared through her. An emotional
ache evoked by his rejection made her feel vulnerable.

“Don’t you want me, Josselin?”

He lifted his head and closed his eyes. He
blew out a puff of air and when he looked back at her, his eyes
were a darker shade. “How can you even ask me that?”

He took her hand and guided it to the front
of his pants. Even before he cupped his hand over hers, holding it
to his rock hard desire, she felt the heat creep up her neck and
face.

“Of course I want you.” He released her hand
and gripped her fingers to lead her to the bed. “But not like
this.” He lay down, pulling her with him, and wrapped his arms
around her.

She nestled her head in the crook of his arm.
“Not like how?”

“You’re a virgin, Clelia. I’m not going to
make love to you for the first time in a common hotel room.”

That declaration brought a smile to her face.
So, Josselin at least had intentions of making love to her.

“Where, then?” she said, smiling.

“Someplace special.”

She traced the hard disk of his nipple with
her finger. “This seems like a very nice suite.”

He groaned under her caress and took her hand
in his, stilling her movement. “Don’t touch me like that, little
witch. I don’t have that much self-control.”

“Maybe the problem is that you don’t want to
lose control.”

In a swift movement, he had rolled on top of
her, keeping his weight on his elbows. “There is no problem.” His
eyes followed the contours of her face. “I want to do right by you,
give you what you deserve.”

“And what do I deserve?”

“Everything. I want your first experience to
be a good one.”

“Why wouldn’t it be now?”

He kissed her nose. “Stop bickering, my
little witch.” He tugged her hair playfully. “Patience is not one
of your virtues, is it?”

“Seemingly not where you are concerned.”

He smiled. With a jump of her heart, Clelia
noticed that Josselin actually looked happy. For the first time
since she had known him, he didn’t seem his usual haunted self. He
almost seemed peaceful.

“Are you hungry?” he said.

“Not for food.”

He groaned. “I can see I’m going to have my
hands full with you.”

When he sat up on his knees, it was her turn
to whimper, not just because of the loss of contact, but because of
the mental image her mind suddenly conjured of him posed over her,
naked, willing to claim her.

“I’m going to order lunch. You need to eat.
And then I’m going to book us tickets on the next flight home.”

“Where are Maya and Lann?”

“Working.”

“Another mission?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re not?”

“I took a sabbatical.”

“They don’t know I’m alive, do they?” she
said with a sudden flash of insight.

“It’s safer that way.”

“And Bono?”

His eyes became intensely mercurial. “Why do
you ask about him?”

She crossed her hands behind her head and
smiled at Josselin’s possessiveness. “Because he works for you. I
thought maybe you would have told him, or that he was waiting
somewhere with his helicopter to take off at the flick of your
fingers.”

“Not even Bono knows. I wasn’t going to take
any chances.”

When he moved, she said, “I’m glad you took a
holiday to come looking for me.”

He grinned. With that smile on his face, he
was even more irresistible than usual. Clelia looked with hunger at
his muscled body and bulging pants. Even as her mouth went dry,
another part of her became wet.

The silver of his irises seemed to swirl into
a dark shade of gray. “Don’t look at me like that, witch. I don’t
want to lose control.”

“Maybe I want you to.”

His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed.
“Enough teasing.” He got to his feet and pressed the fast-dial
button on the communication pad for room service. “Any preferences,
or can I order for you?”

“Go ahead.” She didn’t have an appetite,
anyway. She waited until he had placed an order for two Caesar
Salads, steaks, French fries and a bottle of Pinotage before she
got to her feet to hug him from behind, kissing his back.

“The food will be here soon. Go ahead and
have a shower if you wish. We’re leaving after lunch.”

* * * *

Clelia looked at the tub longingly, but had a
quick shower instead. She dressed in the red dress, the silk coat
and the black boots Josselin had bought for her. She brushed out
her hair and regarded herself in the mirror. The reflection staring
back at her wasn’t the girl who had left her hometown a short few
months earlier. It was a woman who was blossoming, who knew that
she was loved–by a man like Josselin de Arradon.

The room service had to have arrived while
she was in the bathroom, because when she stepped into the lounge,
a table set with their dishes had been wheeled in. Josselin stood
by the window, staring into the distance, but when she entered, he
turned and smiled.

“You are beautiful, Clelia.” He pulled out a
chair. “Have a seat.”

She touched the hem of the coat
self-consciously. “Thank you for the clothes.”

He helped her to move her chair forward and
took a seat opposite her. “Like I said before, you have no idea how
much joy I got from buying things for you. This is not something
I’ve had the privilege of doing in my life before.”

The enormity of his confession launched in
her heart like a missile. Big, strong, capable Josselin had never
had anyone to take care of since the death of his family, no one he
could call his own. She realized that, sexually experienced as he
was with women, in an emotional way, he was on virgin territory
too.

They ate in silence. Josselin seemed
preoccupied. Clelia noticed that he had served her wine, but only
drank water himself.

When she finished and neatly folded her
napkin next to her plate, Josselin forced a smile. “Would you like
me to ring for coffee?”

“No, thank you.” She bit her lip. “What’s
wrong, Josselin?”

He lifted his eyes to hers. “I haven’t been
good company. I apologize.”

“Tell me what’s going on, please. It’s worse
for me when you keep me in the dark.”

For a couple of seconds he seemed indecisive,
and then he said, “I wanted to spare you the worry.”

“What worry?”

“Before I left France, we tracked Lupien to
Spain, where we lost his trail. It seems that he’s left Spain. I
checked my ePad while you were in the shower.”

“What is troubling you so much about it? The
fact that he’s on the move, or that you don’t know where he
is?”

He looked at her for a long time. “I’m
worried that he’s coming after you.”

It wasn’t new information, but it still
stabbed her like a pitchfork in the stomach.

Looking concerned, Josselin got to his feet.
He rounded the table and offered her a hand. “I hate to rush you,
but I think the sooner we move the better.”

“No sightseeing?” she said in an attempt to
lift his mood.

He gripped her fingers and kissed her hand.
“Let’s pack. I got us seats on the evening flight to Paris.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m
scared.”

He kissed her deeply. “Come. We have little
time.”

 

 

Chapter
Seventeen

 

They landed in Paris nine hours after their
takeoff from the Oliver Tambo airport. Clelia was worried about
customs as she had left the country from the Marseille harbor as
Cléane de Villiers, but instead of queuing with the other
commercial aircraft passengers, a security official met them at the
plane exit and escorted them through a special clearance zone.

“No passport control?” Clelia whispered.

“Part of the fringe benefits that come with
the job,” Josselin said. He put his arm around her and held her
against his body as they walked to the waiting car.

The driver drove them to the Marais district
and dropped them on a square lined with Indian Lilac trees. It was
freezing cold. It was only noon, but the sky was dark and heavy
with rain.

Josselin declined the driver’s help and
carried their bags two flights of stairs to the top floor of a
residential building. Clelia was surprised to see only one door
where there should have been at least four apartments. Josselin
unlocked the door, but instead of ushering her inside, he went in
first, motioning for her to wait. He took a device from his pocket
that she recognized from the shooting in Larmor. Maya had used a
similar instrument to scan the car. She assumed that Josselin was
checking the rooms. After a while, he returned and put his hands on
her hips to move her inside.

“Sorry I had to make you wait on the landing.
I needed to be sure we’re safe and that the apartment is free of
bugs.”

Clelia looked around. “Another safe
house?”

“Cain owns several apartments throughout the
world. It makes things easier.”

They stood in a living room lavishly
decorated in Renaissance style. A fireplace with a marble mantle
dominated the far wall. Crystal chandeliers hung from pressed
ceilings and when Josselin turned on the dim switch, their light
threw shooting stars over the polished wooden floors.

“When are we leaving for Brittany?” she said
apprehensively.

He took a few steps until he stood in front
of her. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I thought you’d be tired
after the flight.”

“I’m not fragile, Josselin,” she said,
smiling. “I can see that I’m going to have my hands full with an
overprotective male.”

He slipped his hand down the front of her
coat and started to unbutton it. “Let me take your coat.” The first
silk-covered button slipped from its buttonhole. “Don’t quote me in
such a light manner.” The second button popped. “This is serious. I
want to take care of you.”

The last fastener gave way. He slipped his
hands under the fabric, brushing his palms up her sides and over
her breasts in a light caress until he stroked over her shoulders,
pushing the coat from her body. Clelia stood mesmerized, her breath
trapped in an ecstatic cry that she held back as Josselin caught
the silk in one hand and draped it over a chair back without
breaking eye contact.

“You deserve to be cared for, Clelia.”

She stared up at him and was lost in him all
over again. How could someone as gentle and giving as Josselin ever
believe that he was not worthy?

She placed her hand on his cheek. “And you
deserve to be loved, Josselin. You’re everything that’s good and
wonderful to me. I love you. I love you because I can’t help it and
I’ll never stop.”

“I’m not who you think I am.”

“I know you, Josselin de Arradon. I’ve known
you forever.”

He placed a finger on her lips to silence
her. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You’re wrong.” She gripped his hand and
kissed the inside of his palm.

“I realize that I’m bringing a twisted past
into this relationship. I’ve been no angel. I won’t ask of you what
no woman can give, to accept my past. All I ask is that you let me
take care of you.”

“You are already taking care of me, Josselin,
like I am already loving you. All of you. Don’t you see? Nothing
can change that.”

“You saved my life. If it had been anyone but
you, I would have cursed my savior. Don’t deny me the privilege of
giving back without taking.”

“Is this all it is to you? Repaying me for
not allowing you to shoot yourself? Is this about settling the
score?”

His eyes flashed. “You know it isn’t. It’s
about you.”

“You ask me to let you care for me, not to
deny you that need, yet, in the same breath, you expect me not to
love a part of you, not to love the whole package. Your past is a
part of you. It will always be. I love Josselin, not parts of
Josselin. How can you deny me my truth?”

“I’m not denying you your truth. I’m gladly
accepting your love, even if I don’t deserve it. I’m asking you to
open your eyes, to see what stands in front of you.”

Clelia suddenly understood. Josselin was
insecure. His battered self-image didn’t allow him faith in her
love. He was worried that the passion would wear off; that she
would look at him differently once the sexual tension between them
had been relieved, to see what he thought he was–a demon. He wanted
her to see the worst of him before he bound her to him. He was
asking her not to be blinded by her passion and love.

“My eyes are open. I see exactly who and what
stands in front of me. It’s you who have your eyes closed. Don’t
you see into your own heart, how good you are? I don’t love
conditionally. You have it all, all of my love. Take it, or leave
it. Would you rather I love another?”

“No.” He grabbed her shoulders. “I could
never stand that.”

“Then just let me love you without
restrictions.” Her hand went to the front of his pants, caressing
his erection. “Let me touch you without restrictions.”

His lips crushed hers, urgently, while his
hands feverishly worked their way up her thighs under her dress. In
three steps, she was backed into the wall. Josselin locked his
hands around her waist to pick her up, his body holding her in
place. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him and gasped at
the delicious increase in pressure she felt as she rotated her hips
into his.

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