CultOfTheBlackVirgin (13 page)

But he hadn’t really been paying attention. He was too busy watching Joanna.

She was without a doubt the most appealing woman he had ever met. The most charming combination of temptress and innocent. Self-awareness and self-denial. It was irresistible in a woman so beautiful.

It was obvious to him that she was surprised by what she heard. He was excited by the changing expressions on her face as she listened to the historians. He saw shock, amusement, fascination and something he couldn’t recognize. When their eyes met over the bent head of Glenda, who was examining the Virgin’s little face more closely, he felt a surge of pure desire. He was absolutely sure Jo felt the same way.

But unlike Jo, Luc had to be careful to keep his excitement from making itself visible. He adjusted his pants slightly, and, he hoped, discretely.

Oh man—what I’d give to fuck her right here, in this holy site. Right under the eyes of the Virgin. On that pew over there. I’d bend her over the back and ram into her as hard as I could. Then I’d take her again, up against the old oak door. We’d make the hinges rattle.

* * * *

“There’s something else,” Luc said, forcing himself to continue the history lesson. “Some people hold the idea that the Black Virgins, as they’re called in France, are either connected to, or depictions of, Mary Magdalene. Despite being called
virgins
, these figures symbolize qualities that are the antitheses of those represented by the Virgin Mary. The Virgin Mary signifies the female virtues of purity and submissiveness, but Black Virgins signify female
power
.”

Ellen had stopped nodding. The group was silent.

Jo felt a flush of heat rise over her chest and up into her face. She saw that Luc was looking at her, again, and she quickly looked away. As she felt herself growing even warmer in the close air of the room, she turned her attention back to Thomas, who supported Luc’s statement by saying, “Yes, and although this idea has been suppressed by the Catholic church in recent centuries, today the Black Madonnas are believed by many scholars to symbolize a dark, dangerous, subversive female force.”

Jo began to tingle at the idea. She’d always known it wasn’t really the devil causing her body to thrum every time she thought of Luc. It was her
self.
Nothing or no one else was to blame. She was her own instrument of destruction. And pleasure.

Excited by this new knowledge, she embraced the idea that her own sexuality, which she shared with other women, many of whom were long dead, was seen as a threatening force. The idea made her feel strong. It also vindicated her.

She looked up at Luc, who was now smiling at the ceiling. What she’d just learned somehow made her desire for him more legitimate. She was a part of some force larger and older than her self. A member of a cult-like group of women whose very nature threatened the idea of civilization. The Cult of the Black Virgin. And, like them, she was protected by not only a forgiving mother figure, but one who would actually enable her to sin without fear of consequence.

Oh, if only I could believe this stuff! I’d be guilt-free!

A slight smile spread across her face and stayed on her lips as she followed Luc through the church’s narrow doorway with a little sway in her hips.

The heat of the late morning sun was still fierce and slowed the steps of everyone as they made their way up to their next stop—the grand
château
at the top of the town. But the walk was worth it—the views were spectacular. After taking them through the formal gardens, Luc led everyone out to the end of a long, narrow viewing platform made of solid stone. It extended far over the Alzou Valley hundreds of yards below, and was crowded with tourists.

Jo pushed her way right out to the end of the platform and removed her hat and sunglasses so she could feel the breeze on her face. Directly below she could see the striped umbrellas on the patio where she had enjoyed Happy Hour the night before.

For anyone with vertigo, it was a frightening spot to be in, but she was enchanted by the beauty of the panorama spread before her.

* * * *

Spinning around, Jo exclaimed to the people behind her, pointing down, “Oh look! There’s our patio umbrellas!”

Luc had followed Jo to the end of the pier to find that the crowd had pushed him so close to her that she fell into him as she turned. He saw she was trapped—she couldn’t move backward because of the stone wall behind her, and he couldn’t back away from her because of the crush of people behind him. She looked as if she had been slapped when she realized their bodies were touching—her breasts resting against his chest, her raised forearm on top of his as she struggled to protect her space.

He was as surprised as she looked, as he watched the expression on her face change from excitement to horror to confidence in a flash. Then, locking her eyes onto his, she froze.

Time stopped for Luc. It seemed he and this damned American woman were the only two people left on the planet. He had to stop himself from impulsively wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Oh non, non, non! Sois sage—behave!

Fais pas ça. Arrête donc! Stop it! This is insane!

Then the running monologue in his head also came to a dead stop as he saw her calmly dip her head at him. He was vaguely aware of his own head nodding back at her in what could only be acquiescence. He didn’t know what was going on, but it seemed the right thing to do. He watched her eyes grow a little wider.

He sensed some space opening up behind him and was able to move backwards just enough to free her. She slowly turned around, and presented her back to him.

He stared at her ponytail for a few seconds, overcome with a desire so intense he was afraid he would stammer if he tried to speak.

Putain alors! Fucking hell!

“Hmmgh.” He cleared his throat. “Time for lunch, everyone. Let’s get back to the hotel.”

With relief he found he could back up, turn around, and get away.

I have to have her. I
have
to. Behind a bush. Beside the river. Under the stars. Anywhere.

How? When?

Will she?

* * * *

The descent to the hotel left everyone overheated, and despite her excitement Jo felt particularly tired. Lunch was a light meal in the bar, along with plenty of cool mineral water. Luc had gone off to pick up the company van to take the spelunkers to the caves, so he didn’t eat with them. It was too hot to have much of an appetite, and Jo looked forward to spending the rest of the day inside, away from the burning sun.

It was going to be a treat to have the entire afternoon to herself. She hadn’t had the luxury of privacy for weeks. She thought she might go out later to explore the town, have coffee in one of the charming cliff-side cafes, or do a little shopping. But right now she needed to be absolutely alone. Not just because the heat was making her feel irritable, but also because of the morning’s events. Her eavesdropping at breakfast changed the way she thought about Luc, she couldn’t deny that. And learning about the Cult of the Black Virgin changed the way she thought about herself. Now she reveled in a power she had never known before.

Then there was the look that had passed between her and Luc on the pier. It made her see what that power could do.

At first she’d been shocked when she’d turned around on the pier to find Luc had been somehow pushed so he was practically on top of her. She’d shyly looked up into his face, about to stammer an apology.

But she’d stopped short, her mouth open, when she saw the curious and disturbing expression on the face looking down on her. It showed surprise, longing, and something like panic.

He looked vulnerable. He seemed almost afraid.

Well, that settles it. He’s into this as deeply as I am. And we’re both afraid. Oh God—we’re both in trouble.

She was afraid, all right, but so exhilarated she felt like laughing.

He had understood. Her nod was a simple gesture—a natural, unpremeditated act—but it was an acknowledgement and an affirmation. As was his. She knew now that they understood each other. They shared a frightfully strong attraction, one they both took seriously.

But what was going to happen now? Surely she couldn’t let things go beyond this unspoken understanding. Although her desire for Luc was threatening to smash her moral boundaries like an out-of-control Hummer flattening a boxwood hedge, it wasn’t too late to shore them up. Could she stop this game now, before someone got hurt?

But he started it
, a whiny voice in her head accused.

Did he, really?
another voice countered.

The look on his face when he answered her nod was indescribable in its complexity. For a moment she thought he was either going to embrace her or pitch her off the platform into the abyss. But of course he didn’t. He just stood very still. Then, for once, as he nodded back at her, he was speechless.

I have the power to render him speechless!

She was thrilled to think so.

After lunch Jo went to her room and ran a cool bath, twisting her hair up to keep it dry. Thinking took too much effort, so she decided to indulge herself in fantasy while she soaked. She dreamed of Luc—his smile, his confident stride, his wide, oh-so-strong shoulders, his sweet way of slowing down during the walks to match her gait to ask how she was doing. Sure, he did this for everyone who couldn’t keep his pace, but…

Unconsciously, she began to touch herself, trailing little lines of soapsuds along her belly.

Then it was time to relive those special moments with him in the cave. She was sure she could feel the warmth of his body as he moved close to her in the chill air. Was it her imagination, or was it a little jolt of electricity she felt when he put his arm around her and took her elbow to guide her over the slippery bit of path?

Her nipples were standing at attention now and she soaped them slowly, pinching and pulling gently as she felt a tingling ricochet through her body.

She moved on to last night’s exchange at the phone booth. She dismissed her reaction to what she thought was a bold-faced lie about being single and available. Instead she smiled at the memory of her hands pushing against the solid wall of his chest. He felt so wonderfully strong under that thin shirt. And his scent was maddeningly appealing. Every part of her body responded to it. The hair on her arm prickled in response as her mind was able to recreate the thrill she experienced when she smelled him. And even more, when she touched him.

The fingers of one hand dipped to her pubic curls and a shudder passed over her body as she lightly stroked them.

And on the viewing platform—the look on his face weakened more than her knees. How could any woman resist a man who looked at her with such a complex mix of desire and fear?

But she had to resist him, didn’t she? Despite the license granted by membership in the Cult of the Black Virgin, she knew it was wrong to cheat on James.

So she reminded herself that her nod was not an invitation. Or an acceptance. It merely affirmed their shared feelings—each wanted the other. And that’s where it would have to stay. End of story.

The aquamarine on her finger winked at her through the soapsuds, reminding her there could be no coming together for Joanna and Lucien. There would be no consummation.

Of course not
.

She should call James. He deserved a phone call, at least.

No. She couldn’t allow herself to indulge in even thinking about even a one-nighter with Luc. She had far too much to lose. Her self-respect, mainly. She guessed that Luc did, too. A job, maybe. A reputation, too. And a girlfriend, apparently.

But if she
could
find a way to be alone with him, wouldn’t it just be the most exciting thing that could happen to her?

Only half aware of what she was doing, she slipped off her ring and placed it in the soap dish.

The sweetest thing ever? To be able to feel the weight of his body on top of me. To be able to lose myself in his kisses, in the taste of him, in the smell and sound of his breathing, his deep voice, his moans of pleasure. To feel his hot slippery hardness as he
pushed his way deep inside me.

I would just love love love to fuck him—just once. Oh God please—just the once!

Now she was fully aroused. Her fingers found her hard little clitoris and began to swirl a mixture of warm water and her own juices over and around it until she felt herself beginning to lose control. She didn’t want to just
have sex
with Luc. She wanted to take him entirely into her, completely for herself, she wanted to consume him. She wanted to….

Suddenly a dark shape dashed into the room and bounced off the mirror, startling her and abruptly stealing her fantasy. It fluttered up to the ceiling and bounced back out through the window. One of the swallows, making a wrong turn.

Ohmygod! Is that an omen? A warning?

Groaning, she sat up and splashed water on her face, feeling slightly foolish. She reminded herself she wasn’t the only person in the world who’d ever felt an inappropriate lust at first sight
.
Others had dealt with it, surely. And she would too. She’d have to reach beyond the pull of eons of biological necessity and find some strength of character. She knew she had stores of this strength. It was one of the qualities she was most proud of.