Gift of the Black Virgin (5 page)

Because then it would all be over. And,
usually, he didn’t want it to be over so soon. He loved eating
pussy. But right now he sensed that Joanna’s body was too
sensitive, too tightly-wound, to tolerate a long, slow, glorious
building up to release. Being as gentle as he could, he kissed her
hard little clit, drew it slowly into his mouth, and sucked on it
tenderly, rhythmically, as she bucked and called out, scaring the
dog.

After Luc made it up to Joanna, she fell
asleep. He was too alert for sleep, thinking of a way to make her
last week in Cahors special. Of course he’d cancelled the surprise
engagement party he’d organized for the weekend. He’d planned to
drive her to the house in Nice, then introduce her to a room full
of his family and friends as the woman he loved and would marry. He
was anxious to have her meet the most important people in his life.
But he realized, now, that until Daniel was ready to meet her, no
one else could.

But he could still take her to Nice.

The LaPlante family house sat on a premier
piece of high bank Mediterranean waterfront, walking distance from
the city’s main beach, but boasting a peaceful little strip of
beachfront all its own. The property had been bought by Luc’s
paternal great-great grandfather, and it was his vision that had
built the lovely grey stone house, with its airy rooms and
spectacular views over the sea.

Luc loved the house. His entire family loved
the house, and they took turns using it for vacations, special
occasions, and weekend get-ways. Because Luc had only one parent
left—his mother having died a decade earlier—and one brother, the
house sat empty most of the time. But Luc took Daniel there
whenever he could. He was proud of the house and anxious to show it
to Joanna.

He crept out of bed, careful to not disturb
his sleeping beauty, and went outside to phone Evie, who acted as
caretaker. He asked her to ready the house for Friday. He wanted
fresh flowers in every room, he said, and enough fresh food for two
people for two days.

Then he climbed back into bed, waking his
fiancé, who embraced him, muttered something into his chest, and
promptly fell back to sleep.

He was smiling at the ceiling as he, too,
drifted off.

Chapter Four

While Daniel grew stronger each day, Luc and
Jo made love every chance they could, much to the dog’s distress.
His master’s moans and cries, and Joanna’s squeals, confused Otis.
The fact that the lovers laughed at him didn’t help, and Jo felt
slightly guilty at the poor dog’s distress. She hoped he and Sammy
would become buddies.

Luc still spent most of the day at the
hospital, because Anna had gone back to work at her busy dental
practice. Then she sat the evening shifts with Daniel, so Luc was
free to come home to Jo.

When they weren’t in bed making Otis quiver
with anxiety, Jo and Luc were out enjoying the autumn weather. Luc
showed off his home town, with its magnificent bridge and medieval
centre. They ate late, leisurely dinners at his favorite
restaurants, sharing bottles of Cahors’ famous black wine, roamed
the dark streets at night, talking, planning, plotting the next
phase of their lives. They decided to get married sooner, rather
than later, some time early in the new year.

Their original plan, hatched in Vancouver,
had Luc returning to Seattle to meet Jo’s family and help her pack
her belongings. Because of Daniel’s accident, Jo insisted that it
wasn’t necessary for Luc to make the long trip. She could manage on
her own, she said. And her family could wait until the wedding to
meet him.

Jo would still make her final move, with
Sammy, in November. Although that was only a few weeks away, Luc
would have time to find them a house to rent and, ideally, have
another talk with Daniel about the fact there would be a new woman
in their lives.

Jo was good with this. Now that Luc was in
his right mind, she trusted him. And now that she was certain he
wanted more children—children with
her
—she felt differently
about meeting her new step-son. And differently about her move to
France. France was going to be her new home, and Luc and Daniel
would be her new family.

Near the end of Jo’s visit, Luc took her to
Nice. She was excited about seeing the LaPlante family home for the
first time—the home that would be hers, too. And she was doubly
excited because this was going to be her first trip to
Provence—arguably the loveliest part of France.

They stopped for lunch in Arles, the weather
warm enough to eat outside at a sidewalk cafe. Jo loved the wide
city streets overhung with gnarled old trees, dropping their yellow
leaves everywhere. Now that she and Luc were getting so much
regular exercise, she was hungry all the time.

“What should I eat, love?” she asked as she
scanned the menu, smiling at the almost-lascivious stares of two
middle-aged women sitting at the next table.

“Well, I think you should know by now that
I’m ordering the eggplant,” he said. “Do you want to try it?”

Jo nodded. This week she’d learned many
things about her fiancé. One was that he could eat pussy for hours,
and enjoy every minute of it. The other was that he was partial to
eggplant any way he could get it.

When their food arrived she said to Luc, a
little shyly, “Anna was kind enough to offer to give me the recipe
for her stewed eggplant and peppers. She said it was your
favorite.” Talking to her lover about his first wife still seemed
weird to Jo. She supposed she’d get used to it.

A broad smile lit up his entire face.
“Excellent!”

“But I think I need to take some cooking
classes once I get settled. There’s so much I don’t know.”

He nodded. “I noticed.” Then they both
laughed. Some of the food she’d prepared while he was busy at the
hospital had been awful. He’d insisted on doing the cooking from
then on.

“And I’ll enroll in some advanced French
conversation classes. Maybe I’ll read up on gardening, too. I know
almost nothing about plants.” Jo was concerned that, next to Anna,
she would prove to be a bit deficient in the domestic arts
department.

After lunch, Luc wanted to show Jo the
magnificent Roman amphitheater. They strolled through the enormous
stone structure, blue skies and calling birds high above their
heads, on a perfect autumn afternoon. She clung onto her fiancé as
he told her about the town’s Roman heritage, impressed by the scope
of his knowledge, letting his deep, seductive voice lull her into a
state of bliss.

The LaPlante house wasn’t particularly
impressive from the road. Luc stopped his SUV to open the wide iron
gates, then parked in front of the rather austere stone house with
its steeply-pitched roofs and white wooden shutters. Tall trees
overhung the lower roofs, and Jo could see the bright blooms of
pink bougainvillea peeking through some of their branches. As she
looked closer, she began to appreciate the details. Two short, wide
palms flanked the front porch, which was graced by a
freshly-painted blue door. Red geraniums in pots added more color.
The brass hardware on the wooden door gleamed in the late afternoon
light.

Luc let them in, carrying their bags into the
tiled hallway and shut the door behind them. With a shy smile, he
turned to Jo and said, “Come in here.” He took her hand and pulled
her into a kind of sitting room. It was tastefully furnished with
antiques and oriental carpets, and its large windows opened onto an
exquisite view of a garden and the sea.

Now Jo was impressed. She hadn’t realized the
house was so close to the water. “It’s beautiful, Luc. Truly
beautiful.”

“Come outside,” he said, unlocking the double
leaded-glass doors to the garden. She followed him onto a
stone-flagged patio furnished with an old concrete table and
several heavy wrought iron chairs. Vines, palm fronds and
late-blooming flowers competed with each other to create a jungle
atmosphere. Luc lead her over to the edge of the garden wall where
they could look down to a narrow strip of beach.

“It’s the LaPlante family’s slice of the
Mediterranean. This is where I learned to swim,” he said, pride
evident in his voice.

“Oh, Luc! I had no idea! And this is where
you would have brought me if we’d actually been able to run away
together last spring?”

“
Mais oui.
I told you we could swim
naked in the sea and make love all day. Remember?”

“Oh yes—I remember very well,” she said,
wrapping her arms around his big body.

She turned and looked back at the house. Now
she could appreciate the beauty of its lines. The steep roofs were
softened by large bay windows and two balconies on the second
floor. A multitude of leaded glass panes winked in the sunlight,
and the bright colors of the bougainvillea softened the stone
facade. She was delighted.

“Let’s go back inside. I’m going to ask you
to consider doing something very special for me,
mon amour.
”
He bent to kiss her softly, and she inhaled the delicious scent of
his shaving cream. It never failed to catch at her heart, or make
her belly quiver.

“You know I’d do anything you want.
Anything
!” Her arms reached around his neck and she pulled
his head down to hers. She opened her mouth and took his in a kiss
that was every bit as intoxicating as their very first.

“Well,” she said, breathing hard now. “What
is it?”

“
Non, non.
Not here. Inside.”

Arm in arm they walked back into the
beautiful room. Then he hugged her again, and laughed.

“What? What are you laughing at?”

He broke their embrace and, smiling that
endearing smile of his, swung an arm around the room. “What would
you think about getting married here?”

Jo looked at him in amazement, her face
breaking into a big grin. “You want the wedding to be here? In this
house?”

He nodded, uncertainty clouding his face.

“I’d marry you any time you want, any where
you want,” she said, crushing him in a bear hug. “Of course we can
get married here. It’s perfect!”

Suddenly a dark thought appeared. “You and
Anna didn’t…?”

He laughed at the look on her face. “
Non.
Non.
We had a quick civil ceremony. I want this to be
different. With both of our families here. At Christmas.”

“
This
Christmas?”

“
Mais oui.
Is that a problem?”

“B-but that’s only two months away!”

“
Oui
.”

“Is that reasonable? I mean I don’t really
know what needs to be done, but…” A million details swirled in
front of her eyes. She needed to sit down.

“I think it’s enough time. Our families are
both small, and I don’t plan to invite more than my closest
friends. And maybe a few people from the office. What about
you?”

“I, uh, I guess I wouldn’t really have anyone
but my mother and my sister’s family. That’s five.”

Brenda would have made it six, but that’s not
going to happen.

“Fine. We can put them all up here.” He swung
his arm upwards to indicate the upper floors of the house. “I’ll
probably have another twenty-five or thirty people, if I invite the
cousins. But only a few will stay with us. The rest can go to
hotels, or stay with my aunt and uncle. They have a big house not
far from here.”

“You’ll probably have to make most of the
arrangements yourself, seeing as I’m not going to be here, at
first. Are you really up for that?” She lowered herself in a pretty
bentwood chair upholstered in petitpoint.

“I am,” he said, bending over to kiss
her.

“Are you sure?” she asked softly, looking up
into his eyes. They seemed to be shining. He looked pretty damned
sure.

“I am,” he said, and kissed her again. “Are
you
sure?”

“Yes. I’m sure. I love you.”

* * * *

Luc could hardly wait to show Joanna their
room. With the blessings of his father, he’d been granted
possession of the front bedroom. The big one on the second floor,
the one with the leaded doors that opened onto a large balcony, the
one with the best view of the sea. His parents had occupied that
room for decades, and his grandparents before that. Now his father
had turned it over to him and his new bride. He didn’t mind using
one of the smaller rooms, he’d told his younger son.

Earlier that month, as soon as Luc had
arrived home from Vancouver, he’d ordered a new bed, window
coverings and bed linens for the room. Evie and her band of elves
had thoroughly cleaned and rearranged it in preparation for its new
tenants—expected to arrive for their engagement party.

Luc couldn’t control the circumstances that
led him to cancel the party, but he sure wasn’t going to waste the
effort he’d already put in to make their new bedroom ready for the
soon-to-be Mrs. LaPlante.

He made Joanna wait downstairs while he ran
up to check the room. He knew it would be fine. Evie was dependable
and she had excellent taste. He looked around the room, impressed
with what he saw.

Yes! Everything is perfect. Tres bien, Evie.
Salut!

He liked the new king-sized bed with its
simple curved wooden frame, plump and inviting with layers of
all-cream linens. He was glad to see that it didn’t look out of
place beside the rest of the furniture in the room, which was
antique. He’d asked Evie to clear out what had been his mother’s
favorite dressing table—he hoped Joanna would use it—and empty the
wardrobes. Then he’d sent down some ornate candle holders, thick
beeswax candles, a large oriental vase and bedside carpets in pale
shades to match the new drapes and bedding.

Yes, Evie and I have done a great job. I hope
Joanna likes it.

He went back downstairs and found her in the
dining room, exclaiming over the heavy oak table.