Pyromancist (36 page)

“So you keep on saying.” He chuckled. “Not a
wise move to make me lose control like that. Not until you’re used
to my size.”

She gave him an adorable cocky smile. “Are
you bragging about your size?”

He slapped her ass cheek playfully. “If
you’re not careful, I’ll bend you over my knee.”

“Can you do it in that position?” She widened
her eyes mockingly.

Immediately his cock sprang to life again.
“There are other things I could do to you from that position. And
then I’ll take you from behind, and in my lap, and in every
position imaginable.”

She closed her eyes. “I can hardly wait.”

Josselin grinned. With a soft kiss on her
curls, he moved up and took her into his arms, draping her over his
chest.

“You’re tired,” he said. “Sleep.”

She lifted her head. “Maybe I should clean up
first.”

“Shhh.” He pushed his finger on her lips. “I
like to see my cum running down your legs.”

This time she flushed scarlet.

He kissed her hair. “It reminds me who you
belong to.”

“I’m yours,” she said, resting her cheek back
on his chest.

It was the most beautiful words he had heard
in a long time.

Chapter
Twenty-Two

Sometime in the middle of the night, Clelia
woke up thirsty. As always, when she moved in his arms, Josselin
immediately sat up.

“Are you all right?” he said.

“I was just going to get some water.”

He leaned over her, poured water into a glass
from the bottle he habitually left on the bedside table and handed
it to her. As she drank, he kissed her shoulder. When she was done,
he left the glass on the table, lifted her and carried her to the
bathroom.

“What are you doing, Josselin?”

“I’m going to run us a bath.”

“Now?”

He looked down to her sex. “You were tired
after we made love and I wanted you to rest, but you won’t sleep
well being wet with my semen.”

Clelia felt the blood rush to her neck.

Josselin chuckled and kissed her. “May as
well get used to it. I find it very provocative to see the evidence
of our lovemaking between your legs.”

From the heat she felt in her cheeks, she was
sure she was blushing even more.

He left her on the bench while he ran a bath.
Watching his preparations, she said carefully, “Josselin, you
haven’t used a condom.”

He looked at her as if her statement
surprised him. “No, I haven’t.”

She brushed her foot over the soft bath rug,
avoiding his intense gaze. “It may not be safe. My periods aren’t
regular. There’s no way of telling when I’m ovulating.”

He poured bath salt under the running tap,
immediately infusing the air with the smell of lavender.

“Will it bother you if you fall
pregnant?”

His words were spoken nonchalantly, as if
they carried no weight whatsoever and it took her aback. Somehow,
with his intense and dark past, she had imagined that having
children would be something Josselin would be skeptical about,
especially after the way his father had made him suffer.

“No, it wouldn’t bother me. I’d love to have
your baby.”

He turned to kneel in front of her. “And
there’s nothing that I’d love more than having a baby with
you.”

Clelia blinked back at him. This was not the
Josselin she had gotten to know. This was a man who sounded at
peace, not like a man who was haunted by his past. Her heart
swelled with happiness.

“But you’re right,” he said, taking her hand.
“We haven’t discussed it and we should have. Maybe you’d like to
wait a while before we try.”

She chewed her lip, carefully considering her
words. “I’d like to wait at least until after we’ve...” she cleared
her throat, “...you’ve dealt with Lupien.”

In an instant, his eyes darkened. “Nothing
will happen, do you hear me? I won’t lose you. We are going to get
through this.”

She nodded, swallowing her fear.

“And then I want to see you in our children’s
eyes,” he said.

Tears blurred her vision. The knot in her
throat made it hard for her to speak, but she had to say what was
bothering her.

“What if they have my genes? What if they’re
firestarters like me and my mother?”

He closed his eyes and pulled her to him with
a sigh. “Oh, witch, why would you even think that it would be an
issue?”

“It’s not normal, Joss,” she said, her tears
running over his naked chest.

“Josselin,” he corrected gently.

“It’s not normal, Josselin.”

His arms tightened around her. “And what is
normal? You’re a wonderful, beautiful human being. You’re a
different kind of normal. That doesn’t make you less human.”

She pulled away to look at him. “You won’t be
upset if they combust things around the house?”

He grinned at that. “Will you be upset if
they are little Josselins who like to taste blood? Maybe my genes
will give you little vampires.”

A happy laugh bubbled from inside of her.
“I’d love any little Josselin, vampire or not.”

“So?” He lifted his shoulders. “Then what’s
the problem?”

Her smile was grateful. “Thank you for loving
me for what I am.”

He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you
for
who
you are, witch.”

As she put her arms around his neck and
pulled him to her, she felt his cock push into her tummy. Her eyes
were drawn in that direction.

“Oh no,” he said. “This penis has taken
enough of you for one night.”

“It could never be enough.”

He smiled like a boy with a new prized toy.
“Soon, I promise to love you all night long, as many times as you
wish.”

Clelia kissed his chest. “I’ll hold you to
that promise.”

* * * *

Josselin had washed her from head to toe,
soft massaging movements that had her like putty in his hands.
After drying her body and her hair, he carried her back to bed,
made her watch as he changed their sheets so that she didn’t have
to sleep on the ‘wet patch’ as he had put it, and then he folded
his arms around her, hugging her tight while she slept like she
hadn’t slept in months.

Waking up feeling refreshed and rested,
Clelia was disappointed to find Josselin’s place in the bed empty.
Checking her wristwatch, she noticed that it was already ten. There
was a note on her bedside table, saying that he had gone into
Vannes for business, and that she had to stay in the castle until
he got back.

After dressing in jeans, a red wool sweater
and boots, Clelia ventured downstairs and found the typical French
breakfast of croissants waiting for her at the table in the dining
room. Instead of espresso, there was a flask of hot water and a
selection of teabags. The evidence of the previous night’s dinner
was gone. She had to have slept so deeply that she didn’t even hear
the cleaning staff coming in and going. The strong tea gave her the
kick-start she needed for the day. Her body still tingled down
there from the previous night’s adventure in bed, and just the
thought of it made butterflies in her tummy. She missed
Josselin.

When she took her breakfast things to the
kitchen to rinse, she nearly bumped into a lanky teenager with red
hair and plenty of freckles who exited just as she was about to go
through the door. Clelia jumped, making the cup and saucer
rattle.

“Sorry,” the boy said, “I didn’t mean to
scare you.”

He had a broom in his hand and a red apron
tied around his waist.

“Who are you?” Clelia took a step back.

He clutched the broom even tighter. “I’m
Siril, Izabell’s cousin. I’m just helping out with the
cleaning.”

Clelia relaxed slightly. “You gave me a
fright.”

“Sorry. You were sleeping, and we didn’t want
to wake you to let you know we were here.”

She looked around. “Where’s everyone
else?”

“Izabell left. She’ll be back to prepare
lunch.”

Clelia had a few ideas about fixing up the
garden and the interior that she wanted to run past Josselin. It
was a shame to leave the castle so neglected. If Izabell could give
her advice about the practicality of her initiative before she told
Josselin about what she had in mind, she wouldn’t seem like a total
klutz.

“Is she picking you up later?”

“No. I came by bike. I’m supposed to leave
once I’m done sweeping the terrace out front.” He rested the broom
against the wall and held out his hands. “Let me take that for
you.”

“It’s all right. I was just going to rinse
this in the kitchen.”

He made big eyes. “Oh, no. Izabell would be
upset. That’s my job.”

Clelia relented and handed him the dirty
crockery. “Do you work for your aunt permanently?”

“Only for the holiday,” he said over his
shoulder.

Clelia watched Siril starting to wash the
dishes, but as he seemed not to be inclined to conversation, she
left him to his work, deciding to go for a walk.

For an hour, Clelia walked around the grounds
and the castle. She even located the chapel where they got married
and discovered all the flowers and candles gone. She couldn’t even
begin to imagine what Josselin was paying Izabell for her services.
Going from room to room, Clelia for the first time envisioned
actually living in a castle like that. She made a game of coming up
with imaginary décor for each room, but eventually she started to
get bored.

There was nothing to clean, nothing to
unpack, and nothing to read. Maybe Josselin would be home for
lunch. Maybe she could surprise him with a nice meal instead of
leaving it up to Izabell. Clelia ventured into the kitchen and
studied the contents of the fridge and the pantry. An idea crossed
her mind. She could prepare Noix de Saint Jacques with garlic and
Parmesan shavings on the grill, and a Kouig-amann for dessert. She
enjoyed cooking. She would love to cook for her husband and it
would give her something to do.

Mind made up, she pulled on her wool coat,
put some money in her pocket and went outside where Siril was
hosing down the terrace.

“How long does it take to go to Josselin by
bike?” she said.

He looked up. “Josselin, like in the
village?”

“Yes.”

“It took me thirty minutes to get here.”

“I want to go to the market. Can I borrow
your bike?”

He looked uncertain. “Josselin said you must
stay here until he gets back.”

“I’ll pay you.”

He didn’t answer.

“I just want to surprise him with lunch and I
need to pick up a few things. It’ll make him happy, I know.”

“But Izabell said she’d be back to cook
lunch.”

“Just call her and tell her she doesn’t need
to worry.”

When he still hesitated, she said, “I am your
boss, after all.”

“Izabell’s my boss.”

Clelia lifted an eyebrow. “Who pays your
salary?”

He thought about it, and said after a while,
“All right. But I don’t want to get into trouble.”

“I’ll be back in no time. Where’s your
bike?”

He pointed at the end of the terrace where a
blue bicycle was propped up against the wall.

Clelia started making her way to her ride
when Siril called her back.

“Oh, wait. I almost forgot.”

He dug in the apron pocket and withdrew a
mobile phone. “Josselin left this. He said to call if you need him.
His number is saved on the phone.”

She took it and smiled at her husband’s
consideration. “Thank you.” She turned again.

“Oh,” Siril said, “and I almost forgot.
Someone called for you.”

Clelia stopped in her tracks. She twirled to
face him. “What did you say?”

“Someone called while you were sleeping. I
almost forgot to give you the message.”

“Message?” Her heart started beating faster.
“Who was it?”

“He said his name was Erwan.”

Clelia went hot and cold at the same time.
She tried very hard to appear normal when she said, “What did he
say?”

“He asked if you could meet him.”

Her palms felt sticky. “Did he say
where?”

“Uh ... he said he’d wait for you at
Josselin’s old house.”

Clelia stared at him. Her body had turned
into a pillar of salt. She couldn’t move or speak. Aware of Siril’s
questioning glance, she forced a smile onto her face.

“What time did he call?”

Siril scratched his head. “I can’t be sure
exactly, but it wasn’t so long ago. Maybe two hours.”

“Okay,” Clelia said brightly. Her voice
sounded tinny to her own ears. “Thank you.”

Even as everything inside of her urged her to
run, she walked across the front yard at a normal pace so as not to
raise Siril’s suspicions. Her heart was beating fast. Erwan was
safe. Erwan knew she was all right. He had found her, as she knew
he would.

She took the bike and pedaled as hard as she
could. She didn’t take the road to Josselin. She took the D11 to
Larmor-Baden.

Chapter
Twenty-Three

It had taken too long to cycle to
Larmor-Baden. Instead of spending an hour to the village of
Josselin and back as planned, Clelia arrived more than sixty
minutes later on the crossroad to Larmor. From there it was a short
distance to Josselin’s old house, and as she neared, her heart beat
with loud thumps from more than just the exercise. Soon she would
see Erwan and he would know that she was safe and happy. Her joy
would be complete. Almost. The only remaining stumbling block was
Lupien.

Stopping in front of the big house, memories
of the time when Josselin had locked her inside flooded her mind
with both trepidation and tenderness. Although the experience had
been traumatic, Josselin had never harmed her. She now understood
how he had tried to protect her, even then, when he was supposed to
have been hunting her.