Pyromancist (28 page)

He smoothed his palms over her breasts.
Clelia felt faint with wanting. Josselin groaned as she increased
the pressure of her caress. Her hands gripped at his hair,
desperately needing something to hold onto as her passion spiraled
out of control.

Moans lashed around them, filling the air.
Clelia needed so badly she thought she would go crazy. There was
only one thing that could still her body’s haunting. She knew it as
she felt for the hem of Josselin’s T-shirt, pushing it up so she
could feel his skin. Her dress had shifted over her hips and
Josselin’s fingers pressed into the curve of her bottom, slightly
parting her ass when she tilted her hips forward to give her more
access to the hardness she tried to bury between her legs.

Her body responded to him in ways that didn’t
need teaching. She was frantic with passion. If her skin felt
bruised from the force with which she demanded Josselin’s touch,
she didn’t care. To her distress, she felt the pressure of
Josselin’s body relaxing, his hips moving away from her as his arms
held her up instead.

“No,” she said, burying her face in his neck,
moving her hands up his back and around his neck to hold her to
him. “Please.”

“Cle, angel,” he said, biting gently at the
lobe of her ear, “look at me.”

She knew what was coming and she couldn’t
bear it. “No. Please, don’t stop. Don’t torture me, Josselin.”

“Look at me, darling, please.” He nudged her
with his nose until she lifted her head, leaning it back against
the wall, and opened her eyes.

“We’re out of control. I shouldn’t have taken
it so far.”

“I don’t understand, Josselin. If you want me
as much as I want you, why are we stopping?”

“I’m not going to take you against the wall,
Clelia, not for your first time.”

She almost batted her eyes in frustration.
“I’m not fragile, Josselin. For God’s sake, I’m a woman.”

“You don’t know how intensely I’m aware of
that,” he said. “Too aware.” He lowered her to her feet and
straightened her dress. “One day, I will take you against a wall.
That’s a promise. But I’d never forgive myself for hurting
you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Everyone must have a
first time. This way would be as good as any.”

“No,” he said, “I want to take you, fully,
only when you’re my wife.”

Clelia sucked her breath in. She blinked.

“Did you just ask me to marry you?” she said,
her voice a whisper.

“No. I haven’t asked you to marry me.
Yet.”

She could only gape at him.

“You already gave me absolution,” he said.
“That’s much more than I could ever have hoped for. I have no right
to ask more of you, but I’m asking for your patience.” He smoothed
his hands over her hair. “So far I’ve screwed up everything in my
miserable life. Just give me an opportunity to do this one thing
right. You’re the only good thing that has ever happened to me. If
I can do right by you, if I can manage to do one thing in my life
beautifully, I’ll feel like all of what I am is not a failure. Do
you understand?”

Clelia swallowed. More understanding bloomed
inside of her. She could only nod. Josselin needed to do this his
way to validate himself, to redeem his soul. He saw their love as
pure, and he didn’t want to stain its perceived purity by lust. If
at all possible, she warmed even more for this incredible man who
had such a deep capacity for love and selflessness, if he would
only care to see it.

“I do acknowledge your physical needs.” His
hands trailed down her body to rest on her hips. “After all, I’m to
blame for awakening them.” His expression was possessive. “There
are ways of satisfying your need without taking your virginity.”
His thumbs moved up slowly, coming to rest on the hard peaks of her
breasts. “I could make you come in ten different ways without
undressing you.”

She had to admit, it was tempting, but she
understood his need for withholding their physical bond, and
however unjustified she believed his reasons to be, she respected
his feelings.

“I’ve waited a long time,” she said, lowering
her eyes. “Another few months won’t make any difference.”

“Months?”

His pained voice made her look back at him
quickly.

“I’m sorry little witch, but I won’t last
months.”

The declaration gladdened her heart more than
what she wanted to show. For his sake, she tried to rein in her
passion, taking a deep breath and a step away from him to lean
against the wall with her hands behind her back. She wasn’t sure
her legs would hold her up, or that she could keep her hands to
herself.

He suddenly seemed sympathetic. “I could run
you a bath and rub your body down, or give you a massage. It would
relax you.”

“Thank you, that’s a kind thought, but I
don’t think your hands on my body is going to relax me.”

For the first time since she had known him,
Josselin actually seemed embarrassed. He glanced at the bulge in
his pants and gave her a sheepish grin. “Just the thought is ...
exciting.”

“I think we should rather go out for dinner
tonight instead of staying in. Food should be distracting.”

He groaned. “Not so effective. I have visions
of eating all kinds of things off you.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Food fetish?”

“A fetish for you.”

Clelia laughed softly. It was good to feel
like a woman and not like the unpopular, undesirable girl from
barely six months ago.

She straightened. “At what time are we
leaving for Larmor tomorrow?”

“I’ve booked tickets for us on the TGV at
nine in the morning.”

A whole night alone with Josselin in an
apartment in Paris to get through.

“We’d better have a long dinner,” she said,
moving past him with a smile.

Josselin caught her hand. “You will say yes,
won’t you?”

“Oh, Josselin.” She sighed. “No woman wants
to be a foregone conclusion.” She gave him a pretty pout as she
went in search of the restroom to freshen up. His soft curse
followed her down the hall.

* * * *

They went to a restaurant downstairs in the
square. Josselin chose a table by the window so that Clelia could
benefit from the view of the cobblestone streets that had come
alive with nightlife. During the duration of the evening, she let
him hold her hands over the table. He only let go when their food
was served and they had to eat. It was as if he needed to hold onto
her, to remind himself that she wouldn’t slip away from him. Ever
again.

While she ate, he studied her. She was the
most delicate and beautiful thing he had ever seen. Sometimes he
forgot that she wasn’t weak. Clelia had strength, but he preferred
to, where she was concerned, avoid danger rather than going for a
head-on collision. Yet, the collision that was to come couldn’t be
avoided. It was inevitable.

Instead of showing his concern, he watched
her and felt both anger and pride for her genius at slipping
through his fingers in Brittany. A strange cocktail of unpairable
emotions assaulted him. While a part of him wanted to go back, to
fight, a part of him wanted to run, to keep her from harm’s
way.

They finished dinner early because he wanted
her to rest, to build her strength for what would be waiting in
Brittany. Walking Clelia back upstairs with his hand on her back,
Josselin suddenly had the weird notion that he was courting her. He
had never courted a woman in his life. His strategy was to go for
the kill quickly, openly, without hiding his agenda, and the reward
he offered in return was satisfaction guaranteed. But this
tenderness, this care, this indescribable joy at finding her, and
fear of losing her, was something new.

Once inside the apartment, he locked the door
and activated the alarm.

Clelia glanced at the hallway and gave him a
shy smile. “Which room shall I use?”

“You mean which room are
we
going to
use.”

An adorable flush crept up her neck. “I’m
afraid the temptation may be too much if I share a bed with
you.”

She had a point. It would take all his
strength not to cross the line he had set for himself, but he
wanted her close to him. He needed to know she was safe.

“I’ll maintain control for both of us,” he
said, sounding a lot surer than what he felt.

“You are so strong, Josselin.”

Her words surprised him. “No, little witch,
you have strength where it matters.”

She furrowed her brow at him and he couldn’t
resist kissing that frown.

“Come.” He took her hand and led her to the
master bedroom. “The bathroom’s through there.” He pointed at the
adjoining door. “I’ll fetch your bag.”

Josselin brought their luggage to the room.
While Clelia took out what she needed for a bath, he went to the
kitchen and got two bottles of water from the fridge, which he left
on the bedside tables. He switched on his ePad, but there was no
news regarding Lupien’s whereabouts. There was a message from Cain
regarding pending notes on a mission report and an apology for
interrupting Josselin’s holiday. He had just logged into the report
file when the bathroom door opened. Clelia stood in the door,
dressed in the white negligee he had bought for her. His finger
paused above the keyboard. The silk draped over her body and clung
to her skin. He could see the hard tips of her breasts, the dip of
her navel and the small mound in the center of her rounded hips.
The lace trimming brushed over the curves of her breasts.

Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to sleep
together in the same bed. He lowered his ePad, his hard-on pushing
painfully against the restraints of his leather pants.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice hoarse.

She obeyed, giving him a glimpse of the low
cut at the back and the hint of the smooth curve of her gorgeous
ass. He had desired women before, but never like this. It had never
been a burning, sweet, agonizing pain that extended all the way to
his soul. If he didn’t stop staring and conjuring images in his
mind, he was going to die.

He cleared his throat. “That nightdress suits
you perfectly.”

She turned back, looking shy. “I’m surprised
that you chose something like this. I thought you’d be into
something more provocative.”

He frowned. “More provocative?” Didn’t she
know there was nothing more alluring than her in that silk?

“You seem more like the black leather and
lace kind,” she said.

He lifted an eyebrow and smiled. “And how
would you know which kind of men are into what kind of women’s
underwear?”

She shrugged. “Female intuition?”

“Well, your intuition sadly fails you where
I’m concerned. Although,” he frowned again, “I can’t blame
you.”

She walked to the bed slowly, the act so
innocent and yet so sensual that he feared if she asked him to make
love to her now, he wouldn’t be able to resist. He lifted the
covers for her. She slipped in next to him, pulling the sheet up to
her chin.

“What
do
you prefer then?” she
said.

Resisting the urge to get naked and under the
blankets himself, he got up to put away the ePad.

“I like what you’re wearing.”

“Of course you do. You bought it. I meant...”
She bit her lip. “What turns you on?”

“You.”

“Josselin, I really want to know.”

“Why? Each woman has her own taste. You
shouldn’t change that to please a man.”

“For a mean, muscled investigator, you’re so
dumb.” She wiggled her toes under the blankets. “Every woman wants
to please her man.”

His heart leapt at the insinuation that he
was
her
man.

“Careful with your insults,” he said with a
smile. “I may decide to pull you over my knee for that.”

He saw her eyes widen, and he chuckled. “I’ll
never hurt you, Cle. I promise, when I lay my hands on you, the
only thing you’ll experience will be pleasure.”

“And I can’t wait.”

“You’re too brave for your own good. It’s
only because you know I made a promise not to touch you. For now.
The day will come that you won’t be my little virgin witch any
longer, and then you won’t lie in my bed and act so brave.”

She smiled at him with that feminine
confidence a woman had when she knew she was desired, when she knew
she had the power to bring a man to his knees, and he gulped. He
couldn’t wait to teach her how to love him. He could hardly wait to
love her the way a man on his knees would love a woman.

“Go to sleep,” he said, pulling his T-shirt
over his head.

She watched him undress, followed his actions
with her eyes, and even that was a caress in its own right, one he
suddenly found himself fighting, so that he had to get into bed
still in his underwear and turn out the light.

She rolled onto her side and curled up
against his body, taking several seconds to make a comfortable nest
for herself. He felt her sigh, her breath warm on his chest, and he
got a glimpse of how a normal, loving life with a woman could
be.

Chapter
Eighteen

Clelia had the dream again. This time, it
wasn’t Josselin who climbed from the helicopter. It was someone
else. She couldn’t see his face, but it was familiar. It was like a
word on the tip of her tongue that she just couldn’t grasp. There
was the terrible urge to run, but she couldn’t. She was cemented to
the spot. As the man reached for her, she knew there was no
escape.

She gasped and shot upright in the bed.

“Cle, what is it?” Josselin said, sitting
up.

She heard Josselin’s voice and felt his hand
on her shoulder. For a moment, she thought that Josselin had been a
dream again, that he never came, and that the real nightmare was
only to begin.

She wiped a hand over her face. Josselin
reached for her and kissed her fingers.

“You’re trembling. What happened?”