by Serena Janes
Jo took a sip of beer and snuck a peek along the table at Luc. He was still looking at her, intently, his face animated by his obvious attraction to her. A spike of adrenaline caused her to smile in spite of herself.
Has anyone noticed his blatant staring at me? It’s almost lascivious.
But she really didn’t care what they thought. She was flying.
For the moment, a radiant Jo was in love with the world. She began talking to Sarah, who complemented her on her dress. Like Duncan, Sarah Gill, a law student, was nursing a broken heart, Jo soon learned. Sarah had a lovely face, enormous dark eyes, and a thin, graceful figure. She seemed a thoughtful, quiet girl, and Jo already liked her very much. She hoped that by the end of the trip Sarah and Duncan would find true love with each other and go off to live happily ever after in a cottage in England’s Lake District.
* * * *
Luc’s entire body gave him away as soon as Jo entered his line of vision. His head swiveled, his eyes widened, his nostrils flared and unconsciously his lips twitched at the corners as he watched her take her seat. Luckily no one could see what was going on in his pants. Still, that he was smitten was perfectly obvious to anyone who was paying attention.
But at the moment it was only Jo’s attention he cared about.
Her slender waist and perfect breasts, her shapely hips and round little ass, all sheathed in thin yellow fabric—never had a woman seemed more desirable. Her creamy smooth skin, her inviting eyes that held secrets meant only for him—Luc was becoming aware somewhere in his reptilian brain that this was his mate. His partner. His female equivalent. His other half.
Mais qu’est-ce que tu fous là? What the hell is going on?
* * * *
Edward and Glenda, ever observant because of a natural curiosity about their fellow human beings, agreed that Jo looked exceptionally lovely tonight. But Edward was troubled. He and his wife both noticed the change in the interaction between Jo and Luc. Yesterday afternoon Jo had seemed uncomfortable around Luc, barely speaking to him. But last night and all throughout today she was a different woman. Her entire demeanor was changed—she exuded sensuality and promise. She was flirting with everyone in the room. Not overtly, but unmistakably nonetheless.
And then there was Luc—Edward frowned as he watched their guide’s demeanor transform from professional to almost lecherous. He couldn’t blame the man, though. Jo was stunning. But Luc was in no position to be acting like a schoolboy.
He leaned close to Glenda and whispered, “I have a premonition of trouble ahead. Luc had better keep his eyes on the job and his pants zipped up.”
He knew his wife would be less hard on Jo and Luc, so he wasn’t surprised when she said, “Oh, you old stick, you. A little harmless flirtation never hurt anyone. Luc’s a sensible man, and I’m sure nothing could interfere with his professionalism. And Jo speaks so highly of her boyfriend back home. Besides, I get the sense she isn’t the type to go after a married man.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Edward as he watched Glenda smile indulgently at Jo.
“I am, dear. And remember that every man here is flirting with her too. Even you,” she added with a grin.
* * * *
Glenda admired the yellow linen. “I love your dress, Joanna. The color is perfect for you.”
“Thank you. It’s one of my favorites. Very comfortable. It’s awfully warm tonight, isn’t it?”
Glenda was wearing a sleeveless blouse and a loose skirt, and she patted her hair absent-mindedly. “Too hot for me, I’m afraid. I hear it’s going to be even warmer tomorrow.”
Earlier Glenda had commented on the cache of shiny stones clustered on Jo’s finger. Now she added, “The blue of your ring complements your dress beautifully.”
Jo studied the aquamarine as if she was looking at it for the first time. “This was a Christmas gift from James.” She glanced at Glenda’s earnest face and felt comfortable enough to add, “He chose it because it’s exactly the color of his beautiful eyes. It’s to remind me of him whenever we’re apart,” she added guiltily.
For some reason she felt she had to explain the ring. “Of course I brought it with me when we went to Paris. But now that I’m in the country it’s a bit of an inconvenience. I mean, I have to wear it, of course.”
She drained her beer and continued, feeling she had found a friend in Glenda.
“But it keeps snagging my clothes, pulling threads, and scratching my skin. And worse, it keeps catching everyone’s eye.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that, dear. It’s lovely.”
Jo wondered what people felt when they looked at it. Envy, for its value and beauty? Or pity, that she was the type of woman who needed to display her wealth and privilege? If she felt this way about her aquamarine ring, she knew she could never be comfortable wearing the engagement ring James had chosen for her.
She knew she sounded a bit whiny, and changed the subject.
As she enjoyed her cool drink, Jo heard talk about the morning’s trip into the caves. Marcie had been badly frightened, feeling claustrophobic. Her husband had to practically carry her through the last half of the walk.
Jo was surprised. She hadn’t noticed Marcie’s panic attack. She herself was so giddy she’d heard nothing but Luc’s voice, She’d seen nothing but the man wearing the red bandana as he led them through the galleries of limestone labia.
Marcie, a petite faded-looking blonde, did indeed look flushed and bothered, even now, and Jo offered her a few empathetic words. Ron didn’t seem to be of much help to his wife.
Not like James would have been, Jo couldn’t help thinking. She knew she was lucky to have a man like James in love with her. Very lucky.
Don’t go there, she warned herself. Not tonight. I want to be free tonight.
The beer had been delicious, so she ordered another as she proceeded to get to know Marcie and Ron.
In their mid-forties, the Davies were away from England for the first time in their lives, Jo learned. That explained why they seemed a little out of their element here in the French countryside.
Ron held a stressful position at Scotland Yard and Marcie was a stay-at-home mom. She explained to Jo that she slept, ate and breathed for her children.
“When I saw you walk into the room tonight, I thought about my eldest daughter. I do so hope she isn’t eating too much fried food while I’m away,” she said to Jo. “She could have such a nice figure, you know, if only she’d exercise some control.”
“Oh leave off her, luv. She’s lovely the way she is,” interrupted Ron, lighting one of his many cigarettes and frowning as he stood up to leave the table.
Marcie said, “Oh don’t mind him, luv. He’s got such work pressures, you know.” In a lower voice she leaned towards Jo and confided, “We only came here to get away from the job. He’s so afraid he’s going to be demoted back to Narcotics. It’s an ugly, ugly place to be, you know.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jo, only half listening. Someone was trying to get her attention.
It was Luc. He was smiling at her. Again.
For the evening meal, the group was moved to the hotel’s dining room, just next door to the bar. The views from this room were equally fabulous, and Jo sat right at the edge where she could easily peer hundreds of feet down and across the valley. Rocamadour was one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen. None of her photographs could come close to capturing its magic, and she wasn’t even going to try to make a sketch.
She was hungry, and fortunately for her appetite, Luc had seated himself at another table, so she could relax as the wine began to flow and dinner was served.
The meal was very good—local walnuts, apples, and cheese were toasted together for the first course, a succulent cassoulet was the main, and dessert was a rich custard and fruit confection. She ate it all, and drank as much of the various wines as she could manage. But her mind was not wholly on her food and drink.
True, she appreciated French cuisine, and s
he fully enjoyed this one, but now she longed for something more. Something equally French. Equally delicious. But forbidden.
During the meal she could hear Luc offering tidbits of information about the foods they ate. He seemed to be particularly knowledgeable about the regional wines.
“I’ve planted a small vineyard on my property near Cahors, about fifty vines. That was a few years ago and just now I’m beginning to get some very good wines.”
He claimed that Cahors boasted some of the oldest vineyards in Europe. “And wine from Cahors has always been famous for its excellent aging properties. I will bring a few bottles for our farewell dinner next week, so you can all have a taste.”
Looking at him, Jo wondered about his life—his family, his friends, his job. By now it was common knowledge that his wife was a dentist and they had an eight-year-old son. Jo wondered if the boy looked like his father.
Then she began to think about her own life, how smoothly it had arranged itself over the past few years. How fortunate she was. And although she wasn’t one hundred percent ready, she supposed she would eventually give in to James. They would marry. Then, after a few years, they would have a baby. As always, James was right—it was the perfect time in their lives, and he would make a perfect husband and father.
But at this moment she was fantasizing about an act that would threaten all of it. And destroy her self-respect.
Over the past two days, Jo had grown close to Edward and Glenda, who were now sitting across the table from her. The Evans were well-read, interesting and very kind, and had been married for over thirty years. Because Edward was a psychologist, Jo became slightly uncomfortable during the meal when he began to talk about marriage. When she told them she was probably going to get married in the near future, he said that marriage was a compromise for most people. It turned out he’d been doing a lot of couples’ counseling, and was studying the dynamics that evolved within marriages. He was particularly interested in what he called boundaries—the constructed wall separating permissible from impermissible activities within a marriage.
“For example,” he said, “while my wife is busy teaching school ten months of the year, I’m free to take a vacation on my own now and then. I’ve been on several other walking trips—one in Greece, and one in Scotland. And while I’m away from Glenda, she never has to worry about my behavior. It’s understood between us that we’ve together erected boundaries that, by consensus, will not be crossed.
“Therefore, if I were to catch the eye of a flirty young nurse on the rebound from a failed engagement, I’m free to enjoy her company, her conversation, and not worry that anything potentially damaging to my marriage would come out of it. I can trust myself. And if she pressed me, I would tell her about my boundaries, and that would set her straight.
“This understanding has worked throughout our marriage,” Edward explained. “It’s a shame that so few married couples have well-established boundaries regarding their behavior. That’s why I’m always being pressured into going back to work fulltime. The demand for couple’s counseling is enormous these days,” he said with an ironic laugh, “and not expected to decrease any time soon.”
The subject of conversation began move Jo from discomfort to alarm. First of all, it was too personal, she thought, but more importantly, she couldn’t help feeling it was delivered to her, individually, as part of a lesson.
She interpreted his words as a clear warning about infidelity.
But why warn me? I’m not in any danger of committing adultery. I’m not even married, yet, and once I am I have no intention of straying.
And as far as she knew herself, she would never become involved with a married man.
Never! It’s just a little harmless flirtation. Totally harmless.
But maybe Edward saw something in her that she didn’t recognize? Jo slowly began to realize that Edward, and perhaps Glenda too, had sensed the electricity flying back and forth between her and Luc.
Had anyone else sensed a difference in her behavior?
Oh, please. Relax. Not everything is about you. They’re just making conversation. Be nice and converse back, why don’t you? Smile. Be nice.
Luc’s desire for her might be obvious to everyone present, but then men responded to her all the time. They had since she was a girl. Edward couldn’t have known that many had been far bolder than Luc.
She recalled the well-dressed fellow who walked up to her in a restaurant a few years earlier and dropped to his knees in front of her table.
“Forgive me for interrupting your meal, but I must tell you that you are a most exceptionally beautiful woman,” he’d announced, both hands placed dramatically over his heart. Then he solemnly stood up and walked out of the building, leaving everyone within earshot astounded and amused.
And then just ten days ago there was the airline pilot on their flight to Paris. He not only took her hand in his as he welcomed her aboard, he twice came out into business class during the flight to enquire as to the passengers’ comfort. Both times he was smiling at Jo.
The other men in the group had been watching her, too, Jo knew. But that was normal, and she didn’t think anything of it. Usually she just smiled vaguely, or ignored them. Peter leered, and Edward politely observed. Ron’s stony features broke into an uncharacteristic smile whenever she spoke to him. Duncan was especially attentive to her. Once he learned she was interested in wildflowers, he sought out new species along their walks. Jo knew he was really calling for her attention to himself. She thought he was sweet. Only Thomas seemed not to notice the Eve in his midst. She suspected he was nearsighted.
Jo took for granted a lifetime of attention from men, much of it unwanted, but now, for the first time in her life, she was receiving attention that rattled her to the core. She had never wanted attention from any man the way she wanted it from Luc. And at this stage in her life, she had never needed sexual attention less—she and James were on the verge of taking the next big step in their lives together.
And Luc has a wife. He shouldn’t be acting like this.
She shot him a glance across the room, and when he saw the look on her face he responded with a puzzled little frown. She must have been scowling, she realized as she quickly looked at Edward. He, too, had a slight frown on his face. Embarrassed, she looked down at her ring as her fingers twisted and pulled at it.
Jo had had affairs in her time, but she had never, ever had sex with a married man. She had never wanted to.
Until now, she realized in panic.
The type of attention Luc was giving her was undermining her self-control. It was challenging her sense of who she was—a moral, responsible, sensible woman. Challenging her self-imposed boundaries.
All of a sudden she was afraid. Jo was not inexperienced with men, and until this moment believed she could control herself in any game of sexual politics. But now she wondered if Luc was proving too strong for her.
Do I really know what I’m doing here? Is this game really under my control?
Joanna Clifford had been an obedient, cautious child, maturing early to become a dependable, conscientious young woman who always tried to do the right thing. She was fortunate enough to be generous, and confident enough to step into the background in most situations. Her friends described her as levelheaded.
The only inconsistency in her character had been a tendency to be attracted to unsuitable men. But that had been in her past. Once she fell in love with James she knew she had outgrown her attraction to bad boys, those with more testosterone than sense.
Of course she had made mistakes with a few of these men, but they were minor. She used these mistakes as lessons, and didn’t dwell on the past. In truth, she hadn’t done much that she was truly ashamed of.
And now, hurting James, then flirting with a married man—in public, no less—should have caused her to pause and reflect, then change her attitude and behavior. But at the moment, filled with the sensory and gustatory pleasures of France, she wasn’t
herself.
A little tipsy from the wine, and euphoric at just being alive in the same world as Luc, Jo stood up and walked over to the railing at the edge of the gorge. The view was exquisite. Under picture-perfect skies a large, bright moon filled the valley with a crisp, white light. Each motionless tree seemed carved of stone. She was so happy she wished she could spread her arms and glide over the canyon like the swallows.
If only I could fly! I want to soar forever. I want to feel like this forever!
When the last coffee cups were removed and after-dinner drinks were served, the group rearranged itself. The Arnolds went to bed, the Evans moved off to another table and Luc and Duncan came to sit with Jo and Sarah. Jo’s heart began to thrum as she watched Luc take his seat across from her. Tonight he was wearing a dark-colored shirt that, combined with his rumpled dark hair, gave him a slightly exotic look. Again, his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow and his forearms were bare as he leaned towards her across the table. Once more Jo admired the thick cording of veins running along their length just under the smooth brown skin. He looked so alive, so virile. If she only could, she would reach out her hand and touch him in the dim light.
Both Luc and Duncan seemed to have had quite a lot to drink. They were in high spirits as Luc began a story about a group of trekkers from hell he’d taken through this part of France a few years before. He was animated, using his hands expressively to emphasize the details of the story, which he told very well. Soon he had them all laughing along with him.
“One American woman, in particular, drove me to drink more than usual on that walk,” he confessed. “She complained about everything—nothing was as good as she had back home in Montana or Missouri or wherever the hell she was from. For example, she said the Oregon State Caves were beautifully colored inside. The walls were bright red, blue, green. French caves were boring, in comparison. They had nothing on those caves back home. She kept going on and on until I wanted to strangle the silly bitch.”