by Serena Janes
Wine continued to flow, and the group was divided over which was superior—the first or the second variety? A sparkling Gaillacon magically appeared at the table, and everyone wanted to sample that, as well.
After eating a little, Jo felt quite sparkly, like the wine. She chatted to everyone—except Iris. Iris was the only person at the table who didn’t laugh hard at a wonderful story told by Peter, who was by far the best storyteller in the group. Edward, too, had some good tales to tell, and by the time the main course arrived, everyone was having an excellent time. Jo noticed that Iris had let down her guard a little. Replacing her usual stony indifference, an expression of fevered agitation animated her heavy face.
They all enjoyed plates of roasted chicken, potatoes fried crisp in duck fat, and green beans, accompanied by the deep red wine from Cahors. Jo ate, realizing she was extraordinarily happy. Luc kept her wineglass full, and once the plates were removed he warned the group that they couldn’t miss the dessert course. Everyone groaned, because the meal had been so rich and delicious and huge that dessert seemed out of the question. But when the teenaged boy serving as waiter ran around the table with slices of warm frangipani, the scent of sugar and almonds was too much for anyone to refuse. Every last bit, on every single plate, was gone in minutes.
During the raucous after-dinner conversation, Luc had the opportunity to lean into Jo’s ear and whisper, “Come to my room tonight. Number Ten.”
Elated, she tipped back her head and laughed in the direction of the ceiling, pretending he’d said something extraordinarily amusing. Which, of course, he had.
His invitation didn’t surprise her as much as fill her with a sweet joy that threatened to bring tears to her eyes.
He wants me! He wants me again! Could life ever be as sweet as it is right now?
After the dessert plates and coffee cups were cleared away, Luc disappeared for a short while. When he returned he was carrying an enormous plate piled with blocks and rounds of various cheeses. Apparently, in France, dessert didn’t always mean a meal was over. The cheese course often followed. Everyone protested again as they realized they were expected to eat yet more.
He took the plate around the outside of the table, insisting they all at least taste the cheeses.
“I want each of you to try all of them. Just a tiny bit. Especially the Laguiole from near my childhood home. This particularly succulent piece was created from unpasteurized milk. It’s made only in the summer from fresh cows’ milk, fragrant with herbs, broom, and violets. None of you could ever have a piece of cheese like this outside of France. I swear.”
His enthusiasm was contagious, and Jo took a small piece from the tip of the knife as he held it towards her and popped it into her mouth.
“Thank you. It’s lovely,” she told him. It was—sinfully creamy and sweet salty smooth. “Really. But no, no, no, I can’t eat another bite.”
“But you must try the Chaumes, from the Dordogne.”
He cut a tiny piece and held it out to tempt her.
She took it.
“Very nice.” It was different but equally delicious. “No, no, no more. I can’t.” She was laughing now.
Ignoring her protests, he cut a morsel from another block.
“Not the Cantal? It is made from the milk of Salers cows. The best milk in the world.”
He was laughing along with her because he knew she couldn’t resist him and his seductive offerings. Each morsel was almost as succulent and delicious as the man himself. He pressed her and she ate.
As he stood over her with his heavy platter of cheese, he began leaning into her a little. Slightly intoxicated, and very tired, she subtly leaned back into him, certain no one could see such a small caress.
* * * *
But Edward noticed.
At first he wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but then he understood. There was something going on between Luc and Joanna. His wife had been wrong about them.
Luc, it must be obvious to everyone by now, was no professional. And Joanna was obviously, inappropriately, carrying on with a married man.
That meddling Carol and her gossip had hit the nail on the head. And right now they were doing more than playing footsie under the table. They were being far too bold, he thought.
Right.
He might have a word.
* * * *
After Jo had tasted each of the cheeses, Luc turned to the Davies and offered them the same, his body still pressed against Jo’s. Again, she thought about putting her hand on the large, hard thigh that continued to rub warmly against her arm as he served. She knew what it would feel like under those clothes, and she wanted badly to touch the warm skin that covered the muscles as hard and smooth as cordwood.
But going to Room Ten tonight was out of the question. Her body wouldn’t be able to handle it.
By now, everyone was more than a little merry. And, unfortunately, morning would come soon enough. Two by two the married folk made their goodnights until only the singles were left at the table.
Jo needed sleep, but she also wanted to stay with Luc as long as she could. His surreptitious invitation had filled her with an uncomplicated joy—impractical as his proposal was. But then just looking at him filled her with happiness. That strange feeling of peace was still with her. Although she might be a slut who had just cheated on the best man Seattle could offer, she was at peace with herself at the moment.
Eventually, however, she couldn’t ignore her body’s need for sleep. Again her muscles had seized and as she hobbled out of the room and waved goodnight to those left at the table, she saw the expression on Luc’s face. It was resigned amusement. He had to know she was in no shape to repeat yesterday’s dance.
But before she went to bed she had to phone James. There was a phone in the hotel lobby. He wouldn’t be home from work yet, so she deliberately called his home number instead of his cell. A coward, she wasn’t up to speaking to the man to whom she had given barely ten minutes of thought in the last twenty-four hours.
After leaving a bright little message on his machine, and asking him not to call back because she needed her sleep after a strenuous day, she told him she loved him and promptly fell into bed and oblivion.
Chapter Seven
For the second morning in a row, it was excruciatingly difficult for Jo to roll over to the side of the bed and force herself to a sitting position. Making it worse, she had a headache and a ravaging thirst. She hadn’t planned on finding such a convivial group of travelers, and such good, inexpensive wine.
And, of course, she hadn’t planned on going into heat. That, alone, was more exhausting than anything she’d ever experienced.
As she inched out of bed, she remembered that today was a day free from walking. They’d been given the choice of renting bicycles or canoes, or taking the day off. She would have preferred a day off, but it seemed that everyone was keen to paddle Canadian-style canoes down the Dordogne. So Luc had made arrangements to rent boats for the day.
At least she wouldn’t have to walk. She’d exhaust only the upper half of her body today.
Hooray.
She wasn’t eager to spend the day fighting currents, but for the sake of sportsmanship she would go along with the group. Besides, she didn’t want to miss being near Luc. So she popped some aspirins and drank two large glasses of water to ready herself.
By the time she sat down to breakfast, Luc had already been for his jog and was gone to arrange their rentals. She ate a quick meal with the others and boarded a small bus that delivered them a few miles up river. Luc was waiting with the brightly colored plastic boats, which looked like oversized bathtub toys, lined up along the river’s edge.
He looked particularly scrumptious today, she thought. He looked so much better than she felt. He wished her a good morning, politely inquired after her health, and smiled at her amused expression as she assured him she would live. By now her headache was gone, and she was beginning to feel more enthusiastic about the
day.
Naturally, she assumed she would share a canoe with one of the other singles, but Edward had a brilliant idea. Why doesn’t the American help out one of the English—who have never paddled a canoe before? Glenda would ride with Duncan, who knew what he was doing, and Edward would ride with Jo. It seemed a good idea, and as Jo went to climb into the front of the bright red plastic tub, she hadn’t realized that Edward expected her to sit in the rear and take control of the boat.
After they pushed off from shore she saw Luc, Sarah, and Iris paddling together in a yellow three-person model, already in midstream, and felt a twinge of petty jealousy.
Luckily for Edward and Jo, their molded plastic boat was unsinkable. As an American in a Canadian canoe, Jo was a dead loss. She’d canoed only once or twice in her life, she patiently explained to Edward, who was undoing her frantic attempts to point them in the right direction. Immediately, their boat was caught in some nasty little currents and turned in a complete circle, straightening out only to show them that everyone else was already fifty yards ahead. Well now, this isn’t a race, she reminded Edward, but nevertheless the next two hours were a battle to keep up. Duncan and Glenda were doing splendidly, but then Duncan was an experienced paddler, and proved he could keep to a course beautifully.
Jo had to laugh, though, as she and Edward struggled and cursed and spun around and floated downstream sideways, and almost always hit the rocks, gravel banks and snags laying in wait for them along the way.
Edward proved to be overly enthusiastic and often worked against her. As soon as they would get themselves headed in the right direction, Jo would panic because she thought they were going too fast and wouldn’t be able to negotiate the next curve. A few times she tried to slow them down, only to spin them helplessly out of control again.
Their continual problems were really very funny, and soon they were both laughing so hard Jo couldn’t see for the tears in her eyes. From his position at the front of the boat, Edward kept calling out, “STRAIGHT! STRAIGHT!” but Jo didn’t know what he meant her to do—paddle left side or right side? Finally she tactfully suggested it would be more helpful if he were to tell her to steer right or left, rather than straight. Once they got that settled, they were able to make more progress.
Canoeing turned out to be a lot of fun, eventually, even though the river ran very quickly in places. But the water wasn’t deep and it was a beautiful blue-green color. The scenery was spectacular, with small, picturesque caves dotting the steep stone banks. The entire area was riddled with caves, Luc had told them. The sheer rock faces frightened her, though. She imagined the canoe hitting one of these walls and bouncing them into the water.
The softer mud banks were less intimidating, pocked with hundreds of holes, swallows’ nests, carved over the centuries. Swallows swooped and dove over their heads as they floated downstream, their calls reminding her of what had happened in her room back in Rocamadour only two days ago.
* * * *
In a cool valley. Or under the scorching noonday sun. On a hilltop, overlooking the Alzou Valley…
Luc continued his fantasy as he rhythmically dipped his paddle into and pulled it out of the water. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the different ways he wanted to fuck Joanna, how he wanted to kiss every part of her body, spread her shapely legs and descendre à la cave one more time.
With help from Sarah and Iris he had just turned their canoe around and began to backtrack to see what was keeping Joanna and Edward. They had fallen a long way behind.
When he spotted their red boat making steady but irregular progress, he felt a renewed surge of excitement. Jo looked terrific, he thought, her hair falling out of its binding, her hat crooked, her face flushed from exertion. He moved his canoe alongside hers and grabbed onto the side so they were floating downstream together.
“We’re the search and rescue party. We’d almost given you up for lost,” he said with humor in his voice. “But you’re safe, now.”
Jo and Edward laughed as Luc maneuvered his boat a little farther alongside theirs, moving so he was beside Jo. He saw her face register alarm, but was certain none of the others could see as he reached out and grabbed her hand, thrilling at the way it felt so small and feminine in his.
Without thinking about what he was doing, he mouthed the only thing in the entire world he cared about at that moment. “Tonight. Room ten.”
If she hadn’t been wearing dark glasses, he knew he would have seen her eyes shoot darts of fire. He was sure of it. He quickly let go of her hand to use his paddle to push away, back to midstream.
“Our lunch stop is just around the next bend,” he announced in a voice loud enough to carry over the rushing water. “See you there.”
* * * *
Luc’s silent invitation, the touch of his hand, and the intimate promise in his smile would have buckled Jo’s knees, if she’d been standing. She watched him gracefully push turn his boat around to leave her and Edward to zigzag as best they could to the picnic site. Did she imagine a smirk on Iris’s face as their yellow canoe surged past? She couldn’t care less.
He wants me again! Maybe as much as I want him?
She was almost numb with excitement, but managed to hold up her end as she and Edward limped their boat in to shore.
They took their hard-won lunch on a grassy bank shaded by wide leafy trees. Luc didn’t approach Jo at all during the meal, and she forced herself to ignore him as she contemplated his invitation.
Surely I can’t let this go on until the end of the tour? Continue sneaking around and hiding from everyone else? It’s not only unthinkable, it’s unconscionable.
But ten seconds later she was back to worrying the idea, testing it, and rejecting the results. She rubbed her ring unconsciously as she debated herself.
No. I can’t carry on like this. It’s shameful. And even if I could, I’m not ready for that kind of sex again. I’m still scraped and bruised. Still invalid.
She kept up this line of thinking as she tried to eat the quiche she’d bought for lunch, finding the pastry congealing in her mouth, sticking in her throat. Adding to the discomfort of her aching arms and back was an upset stomach. Again.
But it thrilled her to know Luc still wanted her. Feelings of empowerment came flooding back—it was possible to be with him again and it could be tonight. She felt a surge of energy as she thought about what could happen between them this time. As for her injuries, she could simply push past the pain. It would be worth it.
She packed away her lunch things, avoiding everyone’s eyes as guilty pleasure pinked her face and numbed her aching muscles. She felt like a scarlet woman. And it felt great.
The afternoon paddle was a little smoother for Jo and Edward. Because they actually talked about their strategies, or lack thereof, during lunch, the rest of their journey was less stressful. It wasn’t more fun, though. They weren’t laughing so hard at themselves any more.
But the real reason for the change in tone during the afternoon was Edward. Soon after they set off, they naturally fell behind the others and could talk without being heard. Edward took this opportunity to begin a serious conversation.
He said to Jo, in a studied but gentle way, “I can’t help notice that our leader has developed quite a attraction to you. How do you feel about that?”
Jo was dumbstruck. A shadow fell on what had been a light-hearted day. She liked and respected Edward, so she couldn’t just brush him off. And, after all, they were stuck in a canoe together. But she wasn’t going to give herself away, either. She chose her words carefully before she answered.
“Oh, um. Well, of course I’m flattered, Edward. He’s a kind man. And very knowledgeable. We’re lucky to have such a good guide, don’t you think?”
She winced at her words.
How lame.
Was Luc’s sniffing around really so obvious? Were her mewing and preening equally obvious? She knew she was blushing, and was grateful that Edward couldn’t turn around to l
ook at her. Her next words would be a stammer, she knew. She took a deep breath and struggled to control her emotions.
Edward cleared his throat nervously. “Well I don’t mean to pry. I mean, this is certainly none of my business. But it was my wife who first noticed, actually. She saw that you caught Luc’s eye as soon as you two met. She also said that most women would kill to have so much of his attention. Including her, let me add.”
He gave a little laugh that Jo found slightly discomforting, and continued to paddle rhythmically. They were finally getting the hang of this canoeing thing.
“So,” he continued, “I raise the subject only because I believe you may be the object of some jealousy. I just thought you should know. After all, Luc’s a married man, and of course, you’re not doing anything improper. But I thought I might tell you that some of the others are a nosey, gossiping bunch after they’ve had a few drinks. You may be the victim of some petty malice, you know—gossip. I just thought I should mention it,” he ended in a mumble.
He had said quite enough.
Jo managed a light little laugh intended to diffuse the tension, hoping it would make her seem less alarmed than she was. After all, what was there to be frightened of? Their married tour guide fancied her. It wasn’t the first time, nor would it be the last, that a married man had fancied her.
But, she realized, she had been behaving as if Luc were single. Unfortunately for her, Luc preferred to keep the change in his marital status to himself, for some reason. And she had to respect that reason, whatever it was.
She knew Edward was right. If everyone believed that Luc was married, his flirting with her, and her reciprocity, took on an unsavory air.
And what about me? Do I really believe he’s divorced? And in my heart of hearts, do I really care?
She squirmed in her seat as she thought about how far she’d fallen in the space of a few days.
She steadied her voice. “Thank you, Edward, for your concern. Yes, Luc likes me. And I like him. But it’s all quite innocent, I assure you. And it’s certainly no reason for jealousy. We are, as you say, not doing anything wrong. I thought we were all adults on this trip.” She tried to put ice into her voice.