Stolen Time

by Chloé Duval

  * * *

  We were barely inside the inn before he started kissing me passionately again. I responded eagerly, hardly daring to believe this was happening to me, yet determined to enjoy every minute I spent in his arms. He slid his hands down my back, over my backside and my thighs and lifted me effortlessly. I crossed my legs around his waist and buried my hands in his hair, kissing him all the while. I was vaguely aware of him carrying me into that part of the house I had not visited previously, but I didn’t pay much attention to my surroundings. I was focused on Romaric, his hands on my skin, his tongue inside my mouth.

  At first, our lovemaking was fast and hard, intense and passionate, fulfilling an imperious need, the insatiable hunger of each other’s bodies. The same fire, the same ardor filled us, clamoring to be sated immediately. His hands and his lips were all over my body, tasting every inch, exploring every curve, setting me ablaze, playing with my every nerve until I could only feel my burning desire for Romaric.

  Impatient, I slipped the condom on him myself, dragging my hands just a tiny bit longer than strictly necessary in order to drive him crazy—and me along him. His eyelashes fluttered and his breathing shortened as he drew me into his arms. I burrowed closer, ever closer, eager for the soft friction of his body against mine, inside, around, and over me. Body against body, skin against skin, I could feel his heart beat against my ribs, or maybe it was mine beating against his, I couldn’t tell. We were as one, and I would have been at pains to say where I stopped and where he began. Slowly, our movements became more urgent, our kisses more passionate, until everything exploded around me and inside me. And from the fog of pleasure, I could feel Romaric following suit.

  Later, once we had satisfied our hunger, abated the first frenzied rush, we took the time to explore each other, taste each other, love each other slowly, so slowly, softly and tenderly, by the light of the candles we’d lit. Our gestures were gentler, yet more daring. My hands traveled over the length of Romaric’s body, lingering over the muscles in his arms and his stomach, and I delighted in the shivers my touch caused as they trailed over his skin. I slowly awakened his desire and mine again, one kiss at a time, searching for the most sensitive, most erogenous places, testing his resistance and mine until my blood was on fire again and my body craved only one thing: him.

  The second time, we made love as though the world outside the walls of his room had disappeared. As though nothing mattered except for our breath mingling, our bodies loving each other, our hearts beating as one.

  As though time, which I was running out of, no longer existed.

  Chapter 15

  The rain had stopped and sunlight tickled my eyelids when I woke up the next morning. I blinked, not quite sure where I was. I certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in my usual bed, and neither the arm thrown over me or the hand resting on my left breast were mine. I came awake suddenly as I remembered the previous night.

  The party. The rain. The kiss.

  And the most heated night of my life.

  Now, I’m no blushing virgin. I’ve had several relationships over the years, some more serious than others, some shorter, some more satisfying. But never anything quite as shattering as last night.

  God, how the ground had given way beneath my feet!

  Happiness bubbled inside me. I felt very much in love. Any lingering doubts had been thoroughly erased.

  I loved him. And yes, I realized it was stupid of me to fall in love under these circumstances. I knew I had to leave in two days and that this wasn’t going to be easy. But I hadn’t been able to help myself. I couldn’t, wouldn’t resist. To hell with the consequences, I’d rather live through the experience, follow this story to the end, even if it meant I returned home with a broken heart and buckets of tears. I would not hold back and miss out on such blissful happiness. I had followed Erwan’s example. I’d rather love and suffer for it, even for a short time, than protect myself and mourn the opportunity later on. This was worth it. Romaric was worth it.

  He was amazing, considerate, thoughtful, passionate, funny, and attractive. So very, very attractive. A woman would have to be either ice-cold or plain crazy to be able to resist him.

  And I was neither.

  I let out a deep sigh, and slowly turned around to gaze appreciatively at Romaric’s naked body. He was still fast asleep, and the sheet had slipped down to sit low on his waist, exposing his perfect body—and mine, which I hastily covered up, blushing like a newlywed. For a few moments, I admired the gentle curve of his back, the two dimples below his waist. Unable to resist, I brushed the tip of a finger down his arm, still thrown possessively over me, and followed the shape of his spine, hesitating as I reached the barrier of the sheet.

  “Don’t stop,” he breathed.

  Blushing, I removed my hand and redirected my gaze toward Romaric’s face. He was watching me, amused, the hint of a smile on his lips.

  His right hand still lay on my breast.

  “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you—” I stopped, unsure what to say to him. What could you say to the man you’ve fallen madly in love with, the man who just gave you a night the kind you only find in a romance novel? Hi, how’re you doing? Sleep well? Look, I hope you have no regrets because this was the best night of my life and I really, really hope it won’t be the only one? No way.

  Apparently, Romaric had no such qualms.

  Still smiling, he leaned onto an elbow, and reached out to gently cradle my face with one hand.

  “How can I complain when I wake up next to such a beautiful woman?” he murmured as he kissed me languidly.

  I felt myself blush with pleasure and sigh in relief. At least he didn’t seem to regret anything. One worry out of the way . . .

  “Hey, you,” he quipped, his mouth barely an inch from my lips.

  “Hey, yourself,” I answered without moving.

  “Sleep well?”

  “Mm. Great, thanks.”

  He smiled and pressed another, deeper kiss to my mouth.

  I shifted closer to him, melting into his arms. It was the best place in the entire bed. Interpreting—quite accurately—my gesture as an invitation, he started trailing light kisses up my cheek until he reached that sensitive spot just behind my ear. A shiver ran all over me as a gentle heat started to swell inside me, pooling in my lower belly.

  “Flavie?” he whispered into my ear.

  “Mm?” I murmured, distracted by the feel of his lips on my skin.

  “I spent a wonderful night,” he confided, and as though to emphasize this statement, he nibbled at my ear, eliciting a low moan from my throat.

  “Me too,” I managed to gasp in spite of my brain experiencing major system failure.

  He went on for a few more seconds, and just as I was starting to lose all touch with reality, he spoke up.

  “Flavie?”

  “Mm?” I moaned once again, unable to manage anything better.

  How on earth did he expect me to maintain speech functions while his hand stroked my breast, my belly—and occasionally ventured lower—and his mouth tortured my earlobe in such an exquisite fashion?

  “Any plans for the next two hours?” he asked, never ceasing his ministrations.

  “Not . . . as far . . . as I know . . .”

  “Perfect.”

  He set about outlining his own plans in very explicit detail . . .

  * * *

  It was two hours later by the time hunger drew us out of his room. I went back to my room and showered and threw on some fresh clothes while he cooked us breakfast. When I joined him downstairs, the kitchen smelled like freshly made waffles and my stomach made its presence known rather loudly.

  “Sorry about that.” I grimaced, patting my stomach. “I think I’m hungry.”

  “Sit down, I’m almost done.”

  I sat at the table and he started setting out enough to feed an army. Bread, butter, jam, waffles, tea, and coffee. A rose from the garden in a vase. And on the plate in front of me, he had
deposited the adorable bear cub he had been carving the day before while I napped.

  “Oh! You finished it!”

  “Yes, after we got home yesterday and before we left for the party. It’s for you.”

  “For me? Oh, thank you, I love it! But why?”

  “Why not? It’s my pleasure.”

  I cradled the wooden bear in my hands, unable to hold back the smile creeping across my face. “Thank you! It’s adorable.”

  He leaned down and kissed me gently, whispering, “Just like you.”

  My heart swelled in my chest and, just like that, I fell even more in love with him—if that was possible.

  He poured hot water into my cup of tea, coffee into his, and sat next to me.

  “Is Gwenn home?” I asked, reaching out to grab a slice of bread and spread jam over it.

  “I don’t think so. I didn’t see her shoes or her car. Good thing nobody was at the bed-and-breakfast last night!”

  Just then, the door opened.

  “Speak of the devil,” Romaric commented. “Is this the time you get home?” he teased her.

  “Hello to you too,” Gwenn exclaimed as she sat opposite her brother. “And hi, Flavie.”

  She was still wearing yesterday’s clothes and she positively beamed. Apparently her night had been interesting too.

  “How’re things? Had a good night? I’m starving. Is there enough for me?”

  “Sure,” I said. “There’s more than enough for three. Help yourself!”

  She got up to grab a mug from the cupboard and Romaric poured her some coffee, which she downed at once.

  She sighed. “God, that tastes good!”

  “So.” Romaric had donned the protective-big-brother look I had seen on his face once or twice before. “Where were you, anyway?”

  I really liked that part of him. How protective he was toward the people he loved. I found it heartwarming.

  Yes, I had it bad, and I didn’t even care anymore.

  “None of your business,” Gwenn retorted. “Do I ever ask you who you spend your nights with?”

  I could feel myself blush, and tried to hide by burying my nose into my cup of tea. It probably was better if she didn’t ask who Romaric had spent the night with. I would die of embarrassment.

  I think that was the exact moment Gwenn understood something had happened between her brother and me. She looked at my blushing face, then at her brother, back at me, and finally at her brother again, before a knowing smile stretched across her lips.

  “Well, I’ll change, then go take care of the stables,” she said, pouring herself some more coffee and stealing a waffle as she stood up and headed out of the kitchen.

  “By the way, Flavie . . .” She turned around just as she was about to exit the room.

  “Yeah?”

  “Remember how you were supposed to show me how to bind off stitches?”

  “Whenever you want,” I told her.

  The knowing grin was back. “Forget about it. I think you will have better things to do over the next two days . . .”

  “Oh, er . . . You sure?”

  “Absolutely. We’ll see about that some other time.”

  “Okay, then.”

  “And anyway, I have my own plans . . .” Her smile was conniving.

  Romaric called her back just as she left. “Erwan’s invited all of us for dinner tonight!”

  “I’ll be there!” she hollered in return. “As soon as I’ve greeted our guests and helped them settle their horses.”

  She poked her head back into the room. “Have a nice day. And have fun!” Her grin was positively filthy.

  “Thanks!”

  “See you this evening.” And she clicked away on her high heels.

  Romaric looked from the door to me and back for a few seconds, then he jumped up and ran after his sister, calling over his shoulder, “Stay there. I’ll just be a moment!”

  “Er . . . Okay then.”

  Two minutes later, I had barely finished my toast when he reentered the room, smiling like the cat that got the cream.

  “Gwenn’s going to run the bed-and-breakfast today. I am free and ready to spend the next two days with you. What do you want to do? Your choice!”

  I knew exactly what I wanted. “Take me anywhere you want to, as long as you can tell me a story about it.”

  “I know just the place.”

  Chapter 16

  As it happened, Romaric really did have the perfect place. The empty ruins of a medieval castle—he was starting to know me quite well!—nestled high on a rocky overhang in the midst of a tree-filled valley, accessible by a long and winding road. It was one of those deserted castles, dating back a long, long time that one can find in countries like France, Italy, and Scotland, just standing there, abandoned and in ruins, full of history and legends and tragedies and love stories. I’ve always been fascinated by those places, regretting that nobody seemed interested enough to restore them—or rich enough to save them from their inevitable destruction. And this one was no exception. It was beautiful, and its mysterious atmosphere intrigued me as soon as I stepped out of the car.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  “Flavie, may I present to you Le Château du Val d’Amour?”

  The Castle of the Valley of Love. Even the very name of the castle was romantic. How could I resist? “It’s breathtaking. I love it.”

  Romaric laughed softly and threaded his fingers through mine, pulling me behind him.

  “Trust me, you haven’t seen anything yet. Come on, follow me.”

  We passed the fortifications and entered the courtyard. I stopped and spun on the spot, feasting my eyes on my surroundings. I couldn’t get enough. “This is incredible! I never expected there could be such a place in the middle of the forest!”

  “Come on,” Romaric insisted. “Have a look inside. There’s something I want to show you.”

  I trailed after him, craning my head this way and that, eager to see everything. He led me down the main hall, up a winding staircase to the next floor, where we moved down a corridor and through another room before he stopped in front of a hole in the wall.

  “What’s this?” I asked. “A secret passage?”

  “Exactly!”

  “You’re joking.” My eyes opened wide. “For real?”

  “Absolutely. It leads down the hill, to a cave next to a stream. It’s not an easy stroll, but it’s perfectly doable and safe.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  He nodded, laughing at my excitement.

  “Wow! A real secret passage! That’s amazing!” I paused, watching the dark passage, itching to go and see, although not daring to ask. “How did you ever find this place?” I said instead, out of curiosity. “The castle, I mean. It’s so secluded!”

  “Erwan worked here one summer, when I was a teenager. To keep me occupied, he took me with him, to help.”

  “Erwan worked here? What was he doing?”

  “He was carving stone blocks to restore the fortifications of the castle.”

  “Why did he stop?” I asked, frowning.

  The castle had obviously not been totally restored.

  “They cut the budget, and they had to drop the project.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “Yeah.” Then his eyes seemed to gleam with mischief, and a smile appeared on his lips as he took a flashlight from the inside pocket of his jacket, and waved it at me. “Want to go down?”

  “I thought you would never ask!!”

  The secret passage—which really wasn’t much of a secret, since the hole in the wall was open for all to see—was damp, cold, and narrow, and would have been very, very dark, had Romaric not brought a flashlight. But for all that, I enjoyed every second of the way, picturing the inhabitants of the castle creeping down the passageway to escape a siege or to have a secret meeting with a friend, a lover, a spy. In my mind’s eye, I spun romantic and dramatic stories, love stories featuring knights, battles, and treason, filli
ng in what I knew with what I could see around me. At last, after some fifteen minutes’ descent, the passageway came to an end, opening into a cave by a riverbed, just as Rom had said.

  I just stood there, a silly smile on my face.

  It felt as though I was in a Nancy Drew detective novel, and I loved it. “Have you been down here often?” My voice echoed in the cave, multiplying my words by ten.

  “Here, as in the cave or the castle?”

  “Both,” I replied.

  “I’ve been to the castle maybe a dozen times, with Erwan. As to the cave . . .” He smiled softly, a nostalgic smile, as if being there brought back long forgotten memories. “I did wind up here a few times. I discovered the passage on my second trip to the castle.” He grimaced. “You should have seen Erwan when I came back up the first time. He’d been looking for me and he was getting seriously worried. I was in for it that day!”

  “But he didn’t forbid you from going back?” I asked.

  “He came down with me.”

  “I should have guessed as much.”

  “And when he realized the whole place wasn’t about to fall on my head, he let me go back as long as I told him where I was going and I didn’t make him late.”

  “That was pretty lenient of him. I would have grounded you for life if I were him. I’d have been too afraid of something happening to you.”

  “There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he said, closing his arms around me. “See?”

  “Yeah, okay. Have you come back since?”

  “Since the project was canceled, you mean?”

  I nodded.

  “Never,” he said.

  “Why not?”

  “Never had the chance. Erwan had stopped working there when the next holidays came, so I had no transportation. And after that, I was busy with school, then university, the bed-and-breakfast and all that jazz, so I kind of forgot about it. I remembered it this morning.”

  “Well, thanks for bringing me here. I love it.”

  “I knew you would. Can you imagine the things that must have happened here?”