The Gypsy King (6 page)

watched as a silhouette of a rider appeared, then flashed brightly for an instant as he lit a cigarette.

The red tip danced in the darkness, but did not light his face enough to see anything but a hat.

Neither lover spoke, but each was waiting for the horse to smell the meats and cheeses or perhaps the remains of the wine in the sand. They both squinted to get a better look at the intruder but it was useless. As quickly as they had

approached, the horse stopped drinking and, without as much as a sound, turned and the pair were gone.

“Come on,” Ahndray insisted, leading her back to the river’s edge. Veronique followed in silence, very shaken, now cold and shivering lightly.

Ahndray walked out of the water and got dressed quietly. Veronique did the same and neither said anything until they were completely dressed and done gathering up the blanket and what was left of their luxurious picnic.

Veronique began to speak but Ahndray walked up to her and placed his mouth over hers in a deep, sensual kiss. She moaned and greeted his 52

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lips. Her mind flashed back to his surging cock deep inside of her and she held him tightly. He deftly reached down her dress, and cupped and massaged her breast gently, then with a growing, fervent passion. She could feel his warm

comfortable touch spread over her again and she shook from the river water and the anxiety of getting caught. Caught! Veronique put her head on his chest.

“We are going to have to be very careful, my delicious Veronique,” Ahndray said in a serious tone that made her tremble even more than the Chamois.

She nodded, still in a daze from the impact of having him up inside her so completely.
What had
she done?
Her fantasy lover had appeared right in front of her eyes and she literally had no choice but to give herself to him tonight, and it was more perfect than she had ever imagined. The full weight of her decision, their decision, made her shoulders slump like a huge thundercloud was upon her. She felt her heart skip a beat and she sunk into the sand as if falling.

Within seconds, she was manic. Who would be out in the woods at this time of night? What if the rider saw them both in the water? What if he was going into town to tell everyone? What if it was someone who knew Leone and was heading back to tell him? Her mind raced and she could feel herself losing control. She was shaking violently 53

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now, cold and scared.

Ahndray held her close to him and soothed her as best as he could. He brushed her wet hair away from her face, pulled her closer to him and talked to her calmly, with a confidence she realized she never ever truly felt from Leone.

“We can do this, Veronique, but we have to be very careful nobody sees us together. Ever.”

“Can’t we leave Lourmarin, Ahndray? Why

can’t we just leave and be together?” She curled up into him, fully expecting him to solve this conundrum for them both. She was too exhausted to do anything except admire the pounding of blood still rushing through her body.

“Right now I need to think, Veronique. We

need to think. No. We need to leave. I need to think and you need to go back and act as if nothing has happened. Nothing has changed.”

“But it has, my love, everything has changed.”

She grinned and reached down and rubbed his still-bulging trousers in earnest. Feeling him swell beneath her touch, she ran her fingers down the length of him, running her nails across his shaft through the light fabric until she could feel him bouncing around in his pants. Soon she was

flustered and frustrated for him again.

“Meet me tomorrow at the Fonteine au Lorier in the afternoon. Please, Veronique, I must see you again, but we have to be careful.”

“No.” Veronique stopped him. “Too many

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people will see us and why would we be at the fountain of miracles in the middle of the day?” She wanted nothing more than to see him again, just be near him and she wondered how she could

possibly wait that long! Could she wait until tomorrow afternoon to have this beautiful man up inside her again, making her explode and have stars shoot out into the universe with her every breath?

“Let’s meet here then. Nobody I know comes

here except you and perhaps a gypsy or two late at night, apparently.” He laughed.

“Meet me here at midnight, tomorrow night

then. I’ll pack some crepes and fruit and we’ll go for another swim.”

Veronique saw the look in his eyes and knew what a swim with Ahndray meant to them both.

She wanted to tell him all of the emotions swirling inside her at this very moment. But she just kissed him deeply and held her tongue. Too much

talking always seemed to get her into trouble these days.

“Okay. Tomorrow, right here at midnight.

Bring your appetite.” She smiled, kissed him again and walked back the way she had come. On the way home, she found herself humming and, at the same time, the cacophony in her head was even louder than hours earlier.
What had she done?

Instead of solving her problems, she had invited even more trouble into her life.

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The agony of being completely frustrated and unable to solve her problems just hours before seemed to pale in comparison to the agony she was feeling now. But this agony was a different kind of pain altogether. This agony was caused by the pain of longing and yearning, of wanting, and needing, of feeling as if she could never get enough of him to fill her heart and soul. It was painful knowing she would now do anything to have this heart-pounding agony placated, soothed, comforted and repeatedly satisfied. Her dream was answered, but with it came sacrifices she barely dared to think about.

“He is worth the danger,” she told herself with all the conviction she had in her heart. She lit one of his Gauloises, looked up at the moon and smiled so big and wide she was sure all the angels in heaven could see her joy as she walked her path back home.

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ver the next several weeks Veronique spent as Omuch time as she could in Ahndray’s arms.

Their clandestine love affair was evolving into more passion and intensity than she dared dream during her most cherished forest fantasies, and it was also madness that was completely consuming her. Thoughts of Ahndray and the way he tasted, the way he held her tightly, the way he knew how to move himself inside her almost instinctively, were crowding her already overflowing mind day and night.

The long days at the wine store were especially difficult. What was once a pleasurable job at the Rodell Winery & Gifts shop had now become almost drudgery. In the past, working for the Rodells was one way of politely rebelling against both her family and Leone’s wishes at the same time. Instead of getting married and moving directly into a new house with all the trappings of 57

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married life, including filling the home with cherubs as soon as possible, she worked in the shop and was able to remain as close to Leone and his family as necessary, and still enjoy her independence. But now, Leone was pushing her to set a date for their wedding and this gave her a headache so painful she could barely think

straight.

At one time she used to enjoy the most

quotidian of tasks—whether dusting bottles of wines and admiring unique, hand painted labels for Pinots, Merlots, Chardonnays and favorite Champagnes or gathering items from other stores and shops around their Province and using her fertile imagination to create the Rodell’s

Epicurean’s Delights gift baskets for which the small shop was famous.

However, what had once been a relaxing and

rewarding way to avoid the inevitable was now only a distracting irritation keeping her from Ahndray. Days which used to fly by without

remark or care, now crawled by with a mind-

numbing pace as her mind delved into a black, soggy abyss where she agonizingly analyzed and dissected her once very much alive relationship with Leone. She tried to remember back to the days when they were happy, but she couldn’t do it.

Her guilt over what she had done to Leone was matched only by the shame of succumbing to her 58

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virginal lust with his brother. She felt now as if she really was losing her mind and, on several

occasions within just the past week, she found herself talking to customers through tears.

This morning she was talking about a

particularly crisp Pinot Grigio and found herself mindlessly wiping away her tears of angst and excusing herself. The day before she had begun sobbing after catching her gaze on an exquisitely beautiful water colored label of a moonlit river complete with a picnic basket and red and white squared blanket.

In her heart she was ready to confess her

betrayal to Leone and desperately willed herself to talk to him. But in her mind, she understood the impossibility of him forgiving her for, not only letting another man deflower her, but his own brother! She told herself there was no vision horrific enough to describe how he was going to react. She sobbed in incredulity at how part of her could feel so miserable and another part of her be so incredibly happy to have Ahndray in her life.

When she was not in the darkness of the abyss with Leone on her mind, she spent time with Ahndray, beneath him, on top of him, beside him, in front of him. She was compelled to admit he was so much more of a man than she could have imagined possible. He was not only poetic and romantic, but his adventurous nature even

intimidated her a bit. She knew without a doubt 59

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that nothing was going to stop him from exploring every town, city and country for which his heart yearned.

Much to her delight, he expressed his

adventurous nature even more when they were entwined together, breathing each other’s warm breath and moving toward explosions she had never felt so deeply, that drained her completely.

She found herself sharing his dreams and

spending hours together talking about living and loving their way around the world. As her heart soared like a dove with Ahndray, she would

suddenly feel the violent tug from Leone’s rope tightly secured around her, keeping her tearfully earthbound.

They managed to meet each other often, but

never often enough to quench their insatiable thirst. Each was drinking from a wellspring of pure lust and wanton abandonment. Their passion was increasing, and with each stolen moment, they burned brighter, reconnecting with a special bond that found them laughing, learning and exploring each other in surprised disbelief. But keeping their scurrilous passions a secret was becoming a grueling and nerve-wracking task.

Two weeks to the day after seeing Ahndray for the first time as a real man, Veronique closed the wine shop right on time, locked up and casually walked to the end of the Rue de Rodell. After two quick rights, she found him waiting underneath 60

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an overhang of a barreled roof pretending to read a daily paper. The warm evening was caught in that delicious time between sunshine and sunset where the world was vibrant and clear. Veronique remembered reading somewhere that artists call it the
golden hour
.

She carefully surveyed the entrances and exits from the alley and her heart began racing when she saw and heard no one near. She hurried her pace and felt her world stop, her cares dissolve as she hugged him and tasted his lips. She wanted to talk to Ahndray about everything that was

happening to her every day, to share herself with him completely. How her vulnerability made her weak and her inability to tell Leone made her ashamed. But within moments, holding Ahndray made it all disappear like early morning mist burned off by the sun. She collapsed into his arms and her world brightened like a warm summer’s day in the hills of Lourmarin. She understood why it was called the golden hour now.

Ahndray leaned into her, pushing her back

against a wall of stone in the alley. He hugged her whole body and, within seconds, she could feel him growing between her legs. He was stroking her hair back out of her face while another hand was kneading her ass and upper leg.

“Mmm. Oh, Ahndray. It is going to be so nice with Leone away for a few days.” She ground her hips into him and secretively reached her hand 61

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down to rub him through his now bulging pants leg. She worked her hand down his trousers and wrestled him free enough to grip his growing thickness with a few fingers. She circled the pad of her thumb over his twitching head and, within seconds, felt his slippery pre-cum oozing out in drops, like clear pearls of lust.

“My father wanted me to go with him. I told him we simply could not leave both the winery and the ochre pit without one of the Rodell sons around.” He laughed and bucked forward

uncontrollably as he grew stiff and began aching.

“Leone really doesn’t need me along for a journey that will only take a few days and besides, hanging out with drunken fisherman and talking about different shades of reds and oranges on sailing canvases isn’t my idea of a great

adventure,” he said, pulling her closer and nuzzling her neck.

“But your dad appreciates your interest in the company, right?” she asked, fully aware that they agreed he was going to feign interest in the family business to ensure he did not upset his father or Leone in any way. She stroked him stronger now, excited by how he was growing in her hands and his breath on her neck was becoming ragged and raw.

“I’ve been over to the coast of Corsica,

Veronique, and it is a fantastic place. Uhhgghh.

Fishing boats dot the horizon and in the evening 62

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the sun sets on the sails, lights them up

red…orange…hues until they explode on the edge of the earth like fireworks shooting across the Mediterranean Sea… Like I want to shoot right now, Princess,” he managed to stutter. “You would love it, Veronique. One day we’ll go there and we’ll sleep all day on the beach and stay up all night in a blanket,” he whispered into her neck.