Gift of the Black Virgin (6 page)

“Never mind the table. Come on. I’ve got a
surprise for you.”

He led her up the stairs, asking her to close
her eyes when she got to the top. He couldn’t stop laughing when he
saw her face scrunched up as she tried to keep her eyes closed. He
knew she was dying to peek, and he placed his hands over her
eyes.

“Don’t look yet.”

“What is it? What?”

“Okay—now!” He pushed her over the threshold,
removed his hands and let her drink it all in. “Welcome to your new
room.”

“
My
new room?” She asked in
astonishment, looking around her, mouth open, then into his face
for clues.

“
Our
new room, I should say.” In a
fluid motion he scooped her into his arms and carried her over to
the bed. She squeaked as he plopped her down and rolled on top of
her.

“I’ve just had it redecorated. This was my
parents’ room, and after my mother died, my father’s room. He was
gracious enough to turn it over to us. It’s our wedding present.”
He looked deeply into her dark eyes, round with astonishment. “This
is an important room in my family’s history. My father said he was
conceived here. So was I.”

Not breaking eye contact, he dropped one hand
to her waist and slid it under the band of her jeans, then under
the silky fabric of her panties, stroking her smooth belly. “Can
you guess what I’m going to say next?”

The light in her eyes changed as her pupils
dilated. Instead of waiting for an answer, he dove in for a deep
kiss.

When he broke away he saw that her eyes were
shiny with tears.

“What’s wrong,
ma biche
?”

“Nothing’s
wrong.
Don’t you recognize
a happy woman when you kiss one?”

“I want to stay this way forever,” Jo
whispered into Luc’s ear, an hour later. They were both slick with
sweat, their clothes in a tangled mass on the floor. She lay
underneath him, hips raised, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.
Motionless, he felt the overwhelmingly sensation of his cock buried
deep inside her, her cunt hot and slick.

“So do I,” he said, sighing. “Don’t move, or
it’s all over.”

Keeping her body still, she kissed his neck,
his face. “I love you so much,” he heard her say as if from the
bottom of the sea. A roaring filled his ears and without knowing
how he found himself rocking into her, pounding into her, like
waves crashing onto the shore. And then there was the flood…

It was far, far beyond his control.

A few moments passed before he could catch
his breath. “I couldn’t help it, my sweet,” he said, still panting.
“Were you with me?”

“I’ll get you next time,” she laughed and
kissed him again. He closed his eyes.

“Do you want me to finish you?” He offered,
hoping he could just drift off. He was so deliciously spent.

“Not really. I really do just want to stay
here like this forever.”

Excellent.
He felt his cock softening,
but he didn’t want to fall out of Joanna’s warmth.

Not quite yet.

“Luc?”

“Mmm?”

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Putain de merde!
What now?

He opened one eye carefully. He knew from
experience that when women said something like this, bad news
usually followed. He rolled off her and onto his back. The air in
the room was cool on his damp skin, so he leaned down to pull a
cover over them.

“What is it,
ma biche
?”

“Umm. Well, remember Brenda?”

“How could I not?”

He’d met her only the once, in an upscale bar
at her Vancouver hotel. She made it perfectly clear that she didn’t
like him, and the feeling was mutual. But she was Joanna’s boss,
and her best friend. He had to be polite.

“Well, the reason she won’t be at our wedding
is kind of complicated.”

Luc felt his body tense. He had a funny
feeling that he wasn’t going to like what he would hear next. He
remembered when Joanna told him she didn’t want to meet Brenda that
night, but had to. He hadn’t really thought about her hesitation
until now.

What’s going on between the two of them?

“So tell me.” He stared at the ceiling as he
waited.

Joanna didn’t speak for a moment, as if
trying to decide which direction to take. Then she said, “I haven’t
told you before, but we went to Spain last summer.”

“We?”

“Brenda and I.”

“Go on.” This wasn’t sounding good.

“I saw you. In Ronda.”

His eyes widened and he turned to her.
“When?” He raised himself on one elbow and looked down at her. “Why
didn’t you tell me?”

He saw the tears in her eyes, and cringed a
little as she said, “You were with that blonde woman. On a
motorcycle. I just fell to pieces when I saw the two of you
together like that, and I’ve been trying to put it out of my head
ever since.”

Hilda. Putain alors! She saw us together. And
she’s been holding back on me all this time?

“But why are you waiting until now to tell me
this?”

Sometimes he had no idea how women worked. He
should have had a sister. That might have given him a little more
insight into the female psyche.

“And what were you doing in Spain, anyway?”
he added.

“We were working,” she said between sobs. She
got out of bed to get a piece of toilet paper from the bathroom. He
watched her magnificent ass cross the room. When she came back she
was modestly draped in a towel.

“Actually, the reason we went to Spain was
you.” She perched on the side of the bed, looking down at him. “But
why were
you
in Spain? And who was blondie?”

“I was in Spain because of
you
,” he
said simply. “And the woman was nobody.”

“Nobody?”

“Look, I took a road trip because falling in
love with you ruined everything in my life. I’ve already told you
that. I needed to get away. It was Anna who suggested it, actually.
I needed diversion. The girl was simply a diversion. Do you
understand?” He raised his eyebrows for emphasis.

She nodded, saying, “That’s what Brenda
thought I needed—diversion. When you didn’t try to get in touch
with me, even after I wrote to you, I was convinced you hated me
and that I’d never hear from you again. I was devastated. Brenda
was worried for me, and suggested we take a working vacation to
explore the White Hill Towns of Andalusia.” She stopped to blow her
nose. “She liked the stories I’d written about Black Virgins, and
she thought we’d find some more in Spain.”

“But not in Andalusia?”

“We found a couple. But that’s not the main
reason we went.”

“And the real reason was…?” he prompted.

“Brenda loves me, Luc. I mean
really
loves me. And she wanted to help me. She’s very generous.”

“Okay,” he said uncertainly. “But what
aren’t
you telling me?”

Joanna sighed and looked at him with her wet
eyes. A slight smile flickered across her face. “Her idea of
helping me was to hire a young Spanish photographer to travel with
us. And she sort of, uh, set us up. Together, I mean.”

“Go on.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to ever see you again,
was I? And I wasn’t about to jump into bed with a woman for solace.
I’m just not into girls. Not even Brenda, who loves me pretty well
unconditionally.”

“I see.”

“So one thing led to another, and I don’t
have to say anything more about that. But, what I do need to tell
you is that our young man became quite eager to draw Brenda and me
into a three-way.”

Luc’s eyebrows rose again, against his
will.

“It just sort of happened. We’d all had a lot
to drink, we went dancing, ended up in bed together, and you
know…”

He nodded. These things happen.

“I don’t feel very good about that, and, to
be honest I don’t really remember much of that night. I’m not proud
of that, either. But the worst part is that Brenda seems to have
filmed us.”

“What?”

“She says she has video of the three of us in
bed together. When I gave her my official notice and told her I was
moving to France, she was furious. Then she threatened to blackmail
me. With you.”

Okay…
Luc couldn’t think of anything
to say. His mind ticked over the significance of what he’d just
heard.

“I wanted to tell you, earlier, but I didn’t
know how. You were too preoccupied with Daniel, and everything. But
you need to know. If this is a deal-breaker, please tell me now.
Please don’t make me wait any longer.”

Luc looked at his fiancé, wearing nothing but
a white towel, which was threatening to come unwound around her
breasts. Her long dark hair spilled over her delicate shoulders,
her reddened eyes emphasized by smudged mascara. She was balling a
mass of sodden tissue in her fist, looking at him as if he was
going to punish her.

Never, never, never had she been as desirable
to him as she was that minute. Not the time he first saw her blush
as she tried to flirt with him on the banks of the Dordogne River.
Not in the
Notre Dame
church, when their eyes met over the
wizened head of the Black Virgin of Rocamadour. Not in her hotel
room, naked and panting and screaming as he ground her wet body
into the plaster wall the first time he’d fucked her senseless. Nor
any of the other times, when the fucking turned into love-making,
then back to fucking. All the times their animal rutting turned and
transformed and released them into a higher state, where they were
the first man and the first woman. The eternal man and woman. The
Yin and the Yang. And there was no such thing as jealousy,
blackmail, and shame.

He sat up in bed and roughly pulled her down
on top of him. “I have to fuck you now, my sweet Joanna. And when
I’m done I want you to tell me if you think your story has been a
deal-breaker or not.”

* * * *

All the way back to Seattle, Jo tried to
prioritize the hundred million things rolling around in her
head.

Packing. Storage. Shipping. Sammy to the vet.
Wedding plans. Sell the car. Gift for Daniel. Luggage. Hire a
realtor. Change of address…?

Wait! I don’t even have an address yet. How
does that work?

Wedding dress. Tickets for Mom. Bank
accounts. More wedding plans. Credit cards.

When she arrived at her mother’s house, where
she would be staying for the next few weeks, Sammy just about
knocked her down. It seemed he’d missed her.

Jo was glad to see her mother looking better
than she’d expected. Sharon Clifford wasn’t adjusting particularly
well to living without her husband of thirty-five years, but she
acknowledged to her younger daughter that life did, in fact, have
to move on.

While they were browsing through Jo’s photos
of France, Sharon asked, “Well I must say, you’ve managed to get
yourself a very good-looking man. Have you set a date for the
wedding, sweetheart?”

“Uh, well, yes. Yes, we have.” Jo had been
afraid to spring the news. “Six weeks from now,” she said as she
watched her mother’s penciled eyebrows rise half way up her
forehead.

“You mean you’re getting married at
Christmas
,” Sharon said, frowning.

“That’s right. I know it’s short notice, Mom.
But look on the bright side. You don’t have to bother with making
any of the arrangements. All you have to do is show up.”

Seeing that her words made no appreciable
difference to her mother’s expression, Jo went on. “The ceremony
will be held in Nice, in Luc’s family vacation home. It’s
beautiful, Mom. I can hardly wait to show it to you. And you’ll
love Nice.”

“Hmmm,” Sharon said, her face settling a
little. “But what about the dress? There’s hardly any time.”

When Jo’s sister was married, Sharon and
Julie had pondered for weeks over the wedding dress, finally
deciding on a custom design. It cost thousands.

“I’m not worried about a dress. I can pick up
something nice in Paris, next week. Luc and I will be spending a
few days there before we head home.”

Home, she realized with surprise. That’s the
first time I’ve called Cahors home.

“Hmmm. Have you really thought this through,
dear?”

“Of course I have. You know I’ve never been
keen on a big, splashy wedding.”

Like James wanted.
For a split second
she felt regret for the way things had ended between her and James.
Her mother had been wild for him, and deeply disappointed in her
for breaking it off with him to run after a foreigner. James was a
good man, Jo acknowledged, but she wasn’t the wife for him.

“All I want is my family around me,” she
continued. “Of course, Julie and Tom and the kids will be there.
You can all travel together. And the weather will be mild and drier
than Seattle. There’s palm trees, and we can take day trips to
Cannes and Monaco, if you’d like.” Jo knew her mother had always
wanted to see Monaco and the Riviera.

“Luc will take you anywhere you want to go,
Mom. He’ll charm your socks off. I know you’re going to love him,”
Jo said, her voice turning wistful as she thought it would be only
a few more days until she saw him again.

“Well, dear, I have to say I’m very
interested in meeting your Luc. If he’s as good a man as he is
handsome, I’m happy for you.”

It didn’t take Sharon much time to warm to
the idea of a winter wedding in the south of France. Within a few
hours she was on the phone, telling her closest friends and asking
for advice on what to pack.

Happy as Jo was, being back in town made her
think of Brenda. Their broken friendship was the only painful thing
in her life, and she wondered if there was any way it could be
resurrected.

I should call her. Maybe a little groveling
is in order.

But she didn’t want to grovel. She wasn’t
entirely in the wrong, she felt. Brenda might be a lesbian, but
she’d turned into a perfect bitch as soon as Luc showed up in Jo’s
life. When Jo had introduced Luc, Brenda was rude—vulgar, even—and
Jo was embarrassed.