A Late Summer Bloom (12 page)

A hoarse female voice interrupted their fleeting connection. “Beaumont.
Your table is ready.” The hostess batted her eyes at him, completely ignoring Giselle.

After they were seated, Giselle sipped her water. “This is a nice
place.”

Julien nodded in agreement, hardly lifting his eyes. He looked far away,
making conversation a struggle. She sighed loudly, snapping him into the
present.

He looked at her, his gaze remorseful. “Sorry, Little Witch. I think
the gods have played a cruel joke on us both.”

“How so?”

Julien rested his elbow on the table, fisting his hand under his chin.
“I am not worthy of your love.” He took his hand from under his chin and
reached out to touch her arm.

“Don’t get me wrong, I want very much to give you the
experience
you desire, but you should be
with someone who loves you, especially for the first time.”

This was the worst news possible. She looked down at the table, the
light of hope slowly extinguished by his honesty. Without lifting her eyes, she
spoke. “I thought the
feeling
was mutual.”

He pulled his hand away, the absence of his touch making her want to
cry. “I want you to have what you’re looking for. Being with the queen would be
my greatest honor, but it doesn’t change the facts. You
deserve
love.”

Giselle looked at him, offering only a tight smile. Although she didn’t
know how, she managed to gather enough strength to end the conversation. “Thank
you for telling me.”

He narrowed his eyes and gave her a regretful smile.

The rest of dinner was strained. Giselle carried the heaviness of
disappointment in her heart. With her dream of a romantic and loving interlude
crushed, she pushed through dinner. After agreeing to be friends, she talked
about the beauty of Beaumont Plantation. It seemed to be the only thing keeping
her mind off of his rejection. “So, your sister Chantilly enchanted the gardens
after her lover was murdered?”

“Yes, my sister, like most witches, has an affinity for nature.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what happened?”

****

Julien looked off, grappling with his answer. A few seconds later, he
took a deep breath, and explained. “It happened six years ago, during the
summer solstice. Every year my family gathered at Beaumont Plantation for the
festivities. It was the final night of celebration. My sister’s long-time love,
Thomas Montclair, announced he would marry another.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.
The problem was, the witch he was to marry, wanted to
marry me.”

She tilted her head.
“Uh huh.
Go on.”

“It was my fault. I brought Selena Lovell into our coven knowing she
had an evil streak. I was young, foolish, and I played with fire. She couldn’t
have me, so she hurt me by snatching my sister’s man. It had to be a spell, but
I couldn’t prove it.”

“Did you call a council?”

“I was afraid.”

“Why?”

“Thomas Montclair was murdered on the grounds of Beaumont Plantation.
It wasn’t a warlock who killed him, it was a witch.”

Giselle’s mouth dropped open. “You must have some idea as to who could
have done such a thing.”

Julien cast his eyes away. “All I know is, that night, my sister
Chantilly vowed to never love again. She denounced her origins, her gifts, and
the coven, leaving Beaumont Plantation. I haven’t seen or heard from her in six
years.”

“So—you never called a council because you think the murderer is
Chantilly?”

He pursed his lips. “I knew if I called the council, they would think
that. I just couldn’t take that chance. And with Chantilly gone, I guess I’ll
never know.”

The night air was cold. Julien slipped his leather jacket over
Giselle’s shoulders as they headed toward the truck.

“Thanks for not using magic tonight,” Giselle said.

“You’re welcome, Little Witch.”

Helping her inside, he smiled. “So? How would you rate our date?”

“Good.” He closed the door and walked around to the other side. Climbing
into the driver’s side, he laughed. “Good? I must be slacking.”

“Well, it wasn’t everything I’d hoped for, but for my first date, it
was really nice. Thanks.”

“Boy, you’ve really been sheltered, haven’t you? I didn’t realize this
was a
first
date.”

“I haven’t had a whole lot of experiences.”

“And kissing? You haven’t had your first real kiss yet, either?”

“I’m embarrassed to say no. But I can still dream, can’t I?” She let
out a nervous giggle.

He pulled away from the curb, and glanced at her. “Yes. And don’t ever
stop.”

****

The only noise came from the radio on their way back. Giselle smiled a phony
smile, while slowly dying inside.
Love or
no love, I still want you.

They arrived at Beaumont Plantation a little after ten. Although she
tried hard, sadness overwhelmed her. Julien escorted her to the door of the
cottage. Their date was over and it certainly didn’t turn out the way she’d
hoped. She turned to face him. “Thanks. I had a really great time.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you in the morning?”

She nodded and watched him turn around and walk the path toward the
house. Giselle didn’t know why she stood there to watch him go, but she did.
Her chest felt the burden of a weight so heavy, she couldn’t catch her breath.
Giselle sucked in her bottom lip when she saw him stop halfway down the path. Slowly
he turned around, looking back at her. She was surprised when he turned back.

While he came closer, the yearning for his touch taunted her body.
Trying to remain aloof, she furrowed her brow. “Did you forget something?”

“The
goodnight kiss
. I forgot the kiss. It’s
always the best part of a date.”

“You don’t have to pretend—”

He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her off her feet. “Ever since
you wrapped your arms around my waist before dinner, it’s all I could think
about.”

“But I thought you said—”

“I said you deserve
love
. I
am not capable of such emotion, but I am quite capable of a kiss.” Leaning in,
he smiled just before their lips met. The soft brush of his plump lips was
sweet at first, then he lingered, running his tongue over her top lip. Lowering
her to her feet, he readjusted his body. Something in his eyes told her he wasn’t
finished.

He held her face in his hands, dipping his head to meet her lips once
more. Seconds passed, and the tender moment was replaced by a mutual,
passionate enthusiasm to explore. Julien’s tongue was gentle, yet demanding.
Holding her in his grip, he silently orchestrated her movements to give him
better access to her mouth. Their lips were in perfect symmetry as Giselle felt
all her senses awaken for the first time.
Desire, pure and
unassuming, pulsed through her blood leaving her wanting more of him.

With regret in his eyes, he sighed and pulled away. She felt an
undeniable tug on her body as she fought to stay still, and her heart pounded.
She yearned to be touched, longed to be loved.
Loved
.
Knowing her reality, the
thrill of the moment escaped her grasp and spiraled away like a leaf in the
wind.

“Goodnight, Giselle,” he whispered.

The mention of her name made her tremble.
Oh Julien, please love me. Won’t you try? I
could
 
love
you enough for both of us.
The
words wouldn’t come, and she watched him walk away yet again. This time, knowing
he wouldn’t stop, a tear rolled down her cheek. Giselle went inside the cottage
and cried herself to sleep.

Chapter Nineteen

Under a dark sky filled with the orange glow of a lover’s moon, Desiree
walked the grounds of Beaumont Plantation. Shivering from the chill of the night
air, she pulled her sweater tightly around her body. She came upon the hammock that
sent Simon toppling over earlier that day, and giggled.

She sat down and pushed off with her feet sending the hammock swinging.
For once, Desiree enjoyed the peacefulness of the bayou. It was quite the
opposite of what New Orleans offered, with its constant buzz of life. Unable to
recall if she ever experienced a place so quiet before, she concentrated on the
stillness. When a tingling heat crept along the tips of her ears, she stopped
the hammock from swinging. And when voices could be heard surrounding her, she
stood up and looked around.

Suddenly dizzy with confusion, she grappled with the hammock and sat
back down. All at once, she felt as though she were in the midst of a party.
The celebratory sounds and joyous laughter could be heard, but not seen. Feeling
her equilibrium shift, she held tight to the hammock. Her mind struggled to
listen without seeing. Closing her eyes helped.

As the voices grew distant, a male voice grew louder.
“Chantilly,”
he said.
“Please understand. I love you, but I cannot
leave her. She is pregnant.”

Desiree turned her head in the direction of the voice, scared to open
her eyes, to invite the nausea back in. When another voice, female this time, came
out of nowhere, Desire listened.
        
“You lied to me. You asked me to love you
and I did. I gave you love. This is how you repay me? By showing up here, at my
brother’s home, with news of your engagement?
To her?
To Selena Lovell of all people?
That witch has had it in for
Julien ever since her attentions went denied.”

“Chantilly, you don’t understand.”

The voices faded away.

Feeling the power inside her head hum and her ears burn with energy,
the strange sensation had Desiree reaching with cool hands to provide relief to
her fiery ears. Dizzy, as the humming heat spread out and rushed to her head,
she opened her eyes. Trying desperately to steady herself and focus, she spied
a hand reach out for her. A startled Desiree yelped, threw a punch and
connected with someone’s jaw.

Simon held his chin, backing up. “
Merde
, you hit hard. What’s
happened, Desiree?”

She put her hand over her mouth, surprised by her own actions, and
shook her head. Dropping her hand, she spoke. “You—you startled me Simon.”

“No, my angel, do not lie to me.” Simon put his hands on her arms,
helping her stay upright.

Desiree couldn’t think straight, and when she felt him invade her mind,
it was too late. Simon got into her head, reading her thoughts.
All of them.

He stared at her. “I had no idea how you felt.” Averting his eyes, she
shook loose of his grip. He took a step closer. She took a step back. “I didn’t
invite you into my head. It’s rude.
Us
modern-day
witches don’t like uninvited guests, but I’m glad you got your cheap thrill for
the night.”

“Desiree, do you think I would abuse my gift in such a way? I had no
idea of your ... your feelings. I was worried for you.”

“Worried for me? You’re not worried for me. You’re worried for you.
Ever since that first night when we—when we almost fucked each other. Every
damn time I get near you, you jump back like a scared rabbit.”

“Aimee—I mean Desiree, please.”

“Aimee?
I don’t know who this Aimee is, but I’m not her.”

“She was the love of my life, my wife. I know that you are not her.”

“Apparently not.”
Struggling to come to terms with his slip up, Desiree
tried her best to hold back the tears. “Leave me alone, Simon. Just leave me
alone.”

****

After hours of lying awake, unable to sleep, Desiree slipped out of her
bed and into her shoes. Outside, she went in search of an answer. If tonight’s experience
was her true calling, she had a long road ahead. Not knowing any witches who
possessed the ancient gift, she was anxious to learn more. Seeking knowledge
from an elder would be her only course of genuine understanding.

She spent the next thirty minutes trying to concentrate on her newfound
talent. Flustered, she paced, wearing a path in the grass. Trying to recall what
she’d been doing when she first heard the
voices,
Desiree
listened to the sounds of the night. Concentrating on the quiet, she closed her
eyes and focused on the stillness. Nature’s sounds served as a backdrop, no
longer in the forefront, and the voices returned along with the familiar warm
tingling sensation in her ears.

Desiree listened intently to the dialogue between a male and female. There
was a familiarity about the voice of the male. With its baritone quality and
inflection, she believed it to be Julien.

“It’s over, Selena. I’m sorry. I don’t love
you. I’ve always known there was someone out there for me, but it’s not you.
I’m sorry if I hurt you.”