Defy the World Tomatoes (36 page)

She reached up to lace her fingers in his hair, and he bit her lightly. “Let’s get out of here,” he whispered.

He slid her forward, rose, and lifted her to her feet as he pulled the plug. He watched the water swirl around her legs before he helped her from the tub. “You have the cutest little feet.” He grabbed a towel and rubbed her dry. “Oh, hell, you’re cute all over.”

Darcy laughed with him until he eased her down on the bed and began to suck on her toes. “Griffin!” she screamed. “Stop it, that tickles!”

“Really? I thought it was supposed to have a more erotic effect.”

“Do other women like it?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never tried it with another woman.”

“Good.” She bent her knee and patted her exposed thigh. “Lay your head here, and I’ll do the same with you.”

“Well, this is France,” he murmured as he lay down alongside her in the classic position for
soixante-neuf
. “But with your mouth on me, I might not be able to do a very good job on you.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you an A for effort,” she coaxed.

“Did I mention that I love the way you tease me?” His head comfortably pillowed on her thigh, he slid his tongue along the length of her slit and gasped as her hands tightened around his cock. He inhaled deeply and found her own delicious scent mixed with that of the bath oil. He parted her folds with his fingers to caress her clit, but when she drew the tip of his cock into her mouth, he couldn’t concentrate at all.

In a matter of seconds, he pulled away. “That feels so good you’ve got me completely distracted.” He rolled off the side of the bed. “Here, kneel on the bed in front of me.”

Darcy grabbed a pillow to support her head and shoulders and angled her bottom toward him. He had her so hot she didn’t care what position he chose, but when he slid just the head of his cock in and withdrew, she shoved back against his thighs. He might love being teased with words, but she didn’t like being teased to the edge of climax and abandoned.

Griffin understood what she wanted and entered deeply on his second thrust. Filled, her inner muscles caressed him, drawing him down until he was buried so deep he came with quick, pistoning spasms. He felt her orgasm spiral around him, milking him dry and, when he collapsed beside her on the bed, neither of them wanted more.

Chapter Twenty

Monday dawned overcast and cool. Griffin described it as a perfect morning to visit the Louvre, and Darcy agreed it would be an excellent distraction from what lay ahead that afternoon.

As they viewed a splendid portrait of Louis XIV by Rigaud, she couldn’t help but think the king looked utterly ridiculous showing off his white-stockinged legs while his torso was so heavily draped in his fleur-de-lis embroidered royal robes.

She looked up at Griffin, who was again wearing his navy blazer and gray slacks. “I can’t even imagine you dressed like that.”

“Thank God. He looks rather like a drag queen, doesn’t he?”

“Imagine how many tailors it must have taken to sew such elaborate garments. Then there were the ancient Greeks, who just wrapped themselves in sheets and spent their time discussing the meaning of life in such depth we’re still quoting them.”

“You’re saying it’s a matter of priorities?”

“Definitely, but I didn’t mean to dawdle here when there’s so much to see.”

“We needn’t visit every gallery this morning,” Griffin assured her. “We can come back another day, or on our next trip to France.”

He sounded as though he sincerely believed they’d tour the world together, while she feared harboring such a wonderful dream would only magnify her heartache when they parted. Her spirits plummeting, she was grateful when a guide with more than a dozen tourists in tow approached them to ask if Griffin were the famed concert pianist.

He nodded and greeted them. “
Bon jour
.”

Chastising herself to get a grip, Darcy strolled away to view the next painting while Griffin answered the groups’ questions in both French and English. He signed autographs in their guide books, then quickly broke away.

“Let’s go find the Mona Lisa,” he suggested and again took Darcy’s hand.

“It must be nice to have such an adoring public.”

He winked at her. “It’s not nearly as nice as being adored in private.”

She understood precisely what he meant, but when she had such a good time with him, she didn’t resent being interrupted by the occasional fan. The morning passed all too swiftly, and neither cared to stop for lunch.

Lucien met them at the hotel with a Mercedes sedan for the drive to the funeral. “The Mother Superior told me that Astrid was one of their favorite students. Quite naturally, they have all been praying for her and are deeply saddened by her death. The Reverend Mother was overwhelmed by your generosity in paying not only for the funeral, but in providing for the continued operation of their school as well.”

Darcy squeezed Griffin’s hand and whispered, “Did you give them all the money Lyman Vaughn paid you?”

“Yes. I certainly don’t want it, and it’s rather fitting, don’t you think? Besides the IRS is used to my giving large sums to charity, so they’ll not quibble over the amount.”

She swallowed hard. “You routinely donate a million dollars to charity?”

“Of course. Do you know how many worthy causes there are?”

She shook her head. “Thousands, probably.”

“At least. I’ve been very lucky, Darcy, so I share it. I only wish I could do more to make the world a better place.”

For a brief instant, Darcy wished that he possessed some disastrous flaw, but he really was Prince Charming and, as usual, he made her proud.

The convent where Astrid had been schooled was located in a quiet village south of Paris, and for the majority of their journey the highway paralleled the banks of the Seine. Once outside the bustling city, the countryside was draped in such vibrant shades of green, Darcy sat back to enjoy the view. More than an hour passed before Lucien turned the car into the gravel parking lot beside a small Gothic church. The adjacent convent lay behind a high, ivy-shrouded wall.

There were only two other cars parked off to the side, and Darcy supposed they must belong to the priest and nuns. “It doesn’t look as though there will be any other guests,” she mused aloud.

“If there are, please remember their faces,” Lucien advised.

“Whom did you expect to attend?” Griffin inquired softly.

“Astrid’s physician, perhaps, or her friends’ parents.”

Lucien shrugged his thick shoulders. “I will tell you about the physician after the service. As for parents, I believe many of the convent’s students are orphans. Would you care to wait inside the church? I will inform them of our arrival.”

The gravel crunched beneath their feet as they made their way up the path. While Lucien disappeared around the side of the church, Griffin grabbed the worn brass handle and pulled open the heavy oak door. Inside, the stained glass windows tinted the candles’ dim light with rainbow hues, but Astrid’s rose-draped casket stood out clearly in front of the altar.

“You thought of the flowers too, didn’t you?” Darcy asked.

Griffin took her arm to escort her to a front pew. “We couldn’t have a funeral without flowers.”

“I agree, but the white roses are spectacular. It was very thoughtful of you.”

He responded with a raised brow, as though she should have discovered how considerate he was long before now. He slid into the pew after her and left room for Lucien to join them on the aisle.

Darcy sat back and wondered what it must be like to grow up in such a close-knit community. She’d changed schools and friends so frequently that she had no real sense of the permanence which pervaded the incense-scented atmosphere. Suddenly feeling very alone, she reached for Griffin’s hand and curled her fingers over his.

Lucien soon arrived, and next, the nuns, still preferring their traditional habits, filed in with their charges. The girls ranged in age from five or six through their teens and were dressed in neatly pressed navy blue uniforms. Many were weeping pitifully into their handkerchiefs.

One of the sisters sat at a pump organ, but it took vigorous effort on her part to bring it wheezing to life. Darcy didn’t recognize the somber hymn, and she thought it a shame they had not asked Griffin to play. Then she promptly dismissed the idea, for not even a man as gifted as he would be able to coax beautiful music from such an ancient instrument.

Sharing her thoughts, he leaned over to whisper, “Yes, I’ll buy them a new organ too.”

The priest was a sandy-haired young man who broke down and wept before he had completed the funeral mass. Although Darcy couldn’t follow his lengthy remarks in French, the little girls and nuns were all nodding as though he were paying Astrid an appropriate tribute.

What she recalled was Astrid’s delight in meeting Griffin, and how attentive he’d been to the frail young woman. With her classmates sobbing throughout the funeral, Darcy had to keep mopping away her own tears, while Griffin and Lucien sat silently absorbing the waves of sadness flowing around them without any visible sign of emotion.

As the service drew to a close, Lucien checked his watch, and Darcy leaned forward to speak. “We needn’t stay for the burial if you haven’t the time,” she whispered.

Griffin appeared relieved. “I’d rather visit the grave when the angel headstone is in place, but I should speak with the Mother Superior before we leave.”

Lucien and Darcy waited for him outside by the car. When he caught up with them, Lucien drew him aside. “Please excuse us a moment, Ms. MacLeod,” he begged and addressed Griffin in French.

Darcy dried the last of her tears, but when Griffin reacted to Lucien’s confidence with an anguished cry, she rushed to rejoin them. “What wrong?” she asked.

Griffin looked sick and recoiled against the Mercedes. “Tell her.”

Lucien did not look pleased to have to repeat his news, and his hushed tone failed to lessen the shock. “Astrid’s physician questioned the suddenness of her death. Tests revealed evidence of a morphine overdose.”

Stunned, Darcy reached for a plausible explanation. “Could the nurse have mistaken the dosage?”

“No,” Griffin exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Vaughn did it himself after he’d sent the nurse and the others away and dispatched Octavio to kill us. Do you remember what he said, ‘We’ll deal with the dead tomorrow.’ Clearly he knew more than one person had died.”

Appalled, Darcy grabbed hold of Lucien’s sleeve. “Vaughn murdered his own daughter?”

“Yes, it appears so, but we’ll never know whether or not he also intended to take his own life.”

“No,” Darcy whispered. “I’ll bet he meant to leave us dead and walk away.” Her own anguish was mirrored in Griffin’s stricken expression. They’d been grateful to escape a life-threatening ordeal unscathed, but now Astrid’s murder would haunt them forever.

“That’s it, Lucien,” Griffin swore. “Tell Interpol I quit. I’m not contaminating my life another second with men like Lyman Vaughn. Let’s get out of here.” He yanked open the car door and helped Darcy inside. Once they were underway, he moved away from her toward the door and focused on the passing scene.

She didn’t feel like talking either, but she hadn’t expected him to book a flight home as soon as they returned to the Meurice. They had to gather their belongings quickly to leave for the airport, but when Paris had lost its magic, home was the perfect place to be.

On the flight, Griffin floated on his sedative-induced dreams, but Darcy was again too anxious to rest. She understood why the full force of the weekend’s horror had hit her lover so hard, but because she’d been with him every step of the way, she wished he hadn’t withdrawn from her so completely.

With the nine-hour time difference between France and San Francisco, even after a long flight, they landed in the late afternoon, close to the time they’d left Paris. Certain it would be wasted energy, Darcy made no effort to lift Griffin’s spirits on the drive down the coast. Instead, she stared out at the fog-veiled highway and wondered if he would fill his next composition with near-palpable despair.

He left the motor running in the Land Rover while he walked her to her door. “Give me a few days to sort everything out,” he asked.

“Take all the time you need.” Darcy reached up to brush his cheek with a fleeting kiss and hid her disappointment when he offered no affectionate gesture in return.

She unlocked her door and made it inside before the flimsy dam holding back her tears cracked wide open. She left her suitcase in the middle of the living room, turned off the lights she’d left burning and went straight to bed. It wasn’t until the next morning that she realized how little she could tell her friends about their trip.

George was watering the plants when Darcy came breezing into the nursery. “I didn’t expect to see you back so soon. How was your trip?” he asked.

At the airport, Darcy had bought a bag of fanciful building blocks cut from slender tree limbs for Twink, but now she was sorry she hadn’t brought George a present too. “I had a really good time in Paris,” she confided truthfully. “But I don’t think I’m cut out for the jet set.”

“Why not? I’ll bet Griffin travels first class.”

“Yes, he sure does, but plane travel is still awfully wearing. Now I’ve got to get busy on the landscaping for the Peavey wedding. Can you handle everything out here?”

“Sure, we’ve been doing just fine. Christy Joy will tell you we had a good weekend.”

Darcy waved to him and went on inside. Both Christy Joy and Mary Beth were standing at the counter and gaped in surprise. “We didn’t expect you to come home so soon!” Christy Joy cried.

“Griffin had only a quick trip planned,” Darcy hedged. “But a person could spend years in Paris and not see it all.”

Christy Joy was still admiring her beautiful engagement ring, and she turned her hand into a ray of sunshine to catch the sparkle. “Are things heating up between you two?”

Darcy refused to admit they’d heated up to scalding only to cool down to an Arctic chill. “Let’s not even go there,” she replied. “I’ve a present for Twink. Did she get home all right?”

“Yes, but she’s already at school.” Christy took the bag of unusual blocks and peeked inside. “Aren’t these clever. Twink will love them. Thank you for thinking of her.”

“I thought about you all, but unfortunately, we left before I had time to shop for more presents.”

Mary Beth laughed. “I didn’t expect a Dior gown, but it’s nice to have you home. Let me show you the figures for the weekend.”

Darcy feigned an interest she didn’t feel, but she was pleased their profits were up since the storm. She kept busy all day, but as George got ready to leave, she walked him to the gate.

“If someone asked for a few days,” she began, “how many would you assume that would be?”

George tucked in his shirt and adjusted his hat. “Are we talking about one of your clients, or Griffin Moore?”

“What difference does it make?”

George chuckled and rested his hand on the gate. “Griffin, then. He’d probably consider a few more than a couple, but less than a week. Is that any help?”

“Yes, thank you. That’s what I figured too.”

“I wouldn’t worry, he always turns up,” George advised.

“Thanks.” She understood how men needed their space, but as she locked up for the night, she still felt uneasy. Griffin definitely had a dark side, but she doubted he’d slide into it so deep that he couldn’t climb out. Still, regardless of his inner turmoil, she couldn’t spend half the week terrified she’d lost him.