Revenge of the Black Virgin (14 page)

This is not how it’s supposed to be!

But Jo didn’t know what to expect. Nothing
would be like it was before. She knew that. But it could still be
good. Couldn’t it? Her imagination had failed her completely every
time she thought of seeing him again. On her turf, this time. With
the home court advantage.

She walked into the living room, hands
shaking, and took off her sweater and scarf and again smoothed the
snug-fitting little knit dress she had so carefully chosen for this
special day. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, the rows of
tiny ruffles running along the hem emphasizing her round little
hips and ass. The color was just right for fall—all bronzes and
ochres and golds. Short, but not sleazy, and sleeveless now,
without her sweater, the dress bared enough skin to tempt any man,
she knew.

But he hasn’t even looked at me! I could be
wearing a sack!

Afraid
,
Jo turned on some music, then
stood in front of the speakers blinking away tears and rubbing her
arms. She didn’t know how to feel, or what to do. She glanced at
the make-shift shrine she’d set up in the corner. That morning
she’d removed the bandana and all but one of the photos of Luc.
That, and the picture of the Black Virgin. She looked at the
Virgin’s black stare and asked her out loud, “Now what? Tell me
what to do.”

But the mute face told her nothing. She was
on her own. It was then that she remembered the wine.

A drink wouldn’t hurt.

She’d chosen a Malbec from the Okanagan
Valley—she wanted everything she served tonight to be from British
Columbia. It would be fitting, she thought, given the amount of
French food and wine she’d packed away when she was in the
Dordogne. She filled a glass and drank.

Not bad. Not great, but not bad.

Then she went to the fridge and took out the
smoked salmon. She put it on a tray alongside a glass dome covering
a selection of cheeses sitting at room temperature. She emptied a
box of crackers into a bowl, removed the plastic wrap from a dish
of pickled asparagus, and took another drink of wine. A longer
one.

The alcohol pulsed along her limbs, relaxing
them as it moved. She began to cut a crusty loaf into pieces. A
blues tune helped distract her jumbled thoughts.

“I see you’ve started without me.”

Jo jumped in her skin, almost cutting her
finger with the bread knife. Luc was standing right behind her. She
hadn’t heard him at all, but suddenly she could feel his hot breath
on her neck. She could smell fresh soap. Her knees weakened and she
found she couldn’t move.

Clearing her throat, she said, “I did. Sorry.
Here. Let me pour you a…”

“Not now, Joanna. This isn’t the time for
drinking,” he said, voice low, as he slowly lifted the hair from
the back of her neck, his warm knuckles grazing her skin. He moved
his face closer. He breathed in deeply. “Ah! Your scent. It’s
almost worth crossing an ocean,” he exhaled, “and a continent, just
to be able to smell your neck.”

His words caused a wave of relief to wash
over her rigid body. She held her breath, standing perfectly still.
He breathed in again, then exhaled slowly, his hot breath on her
neck warming her into excitement.

Passion swept through her so quickly that she
didn’t know what she was doing. She fell backwards into him,
rubbing her shoulders into his hard chest.

Immediately he pushed her away.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demanded
as he grabbed her and spun her around to face him, holding her at
arms’ length. She saw his hair was still wet, pushed behind his
ears, and he hadn’t shaved. He was wearing a black T-shirt. Dark
hair, dark stubble, dark eyes looking down at her. She opened her
mouth to speak but couldn’t, overcome by a rush of desire
compounded by fear.

“I didn’t come all this way just to
fuck
you!” he hissed down at her. “I came here to talk,” he
added as he grabbed her wrists and forced her arms over her head.
He roughly pushed her up against the fridge, holding her tightly
with both hands.

Confused, she just stared at him. But she was
also aroused. Standing with her back against a hard surface, with
nowhere to go, reminded her of that other time. Their first time,
in the hotel room at Rocamadour. That was when she fell, believing
she’d been granted permission by the Black Virgin to indulge her
basest desires for a total stranger. She felt her insides quiver,
her knees buckle.

But this was different. Now he was hurting
her. This wasn’t what she had in mind at all when she envisioned
being with Luc again. He was scaring her, when all she wanted was
to offer herself up like a platter of food.

“Talk?” she managed to squeak out. She was
panting. His strength, his height and the way he smelled—the way he
looked—worked together to make her stupid with lust. She almost
fell forward but he jerked her wrists more tightly above her
head.

He bent his head to her ear, and whispered,
“Talk, yes. I’m going to tell you what you’ve done to me. And then
maybe I’ll let you try and tell me why you ran away like you did. I
need to know, you see. My sweet Joanna. I need to understand why
you hurt me.”

He took one hand from her wrists, still
managing to hold them fast with the other one, and lifted her chin.
His dark eyes looked forcefully into hers. “And maybe, sweet
Joanna, just maybe, if I can accept what you tell me, I’ll stay
awhile.”

His words caused her belly to contract in
fear. She stared into his eyes, and saw the fury she’d been
dreading.

“But if I can’t stomach what you say, I’ll
catch the first flight back to France tomorrow,” he added, letting
her chin drop.

“Luc,” she whispered, shocked. “I can explain
everything! Please, just give me a…”

“
Non!
I go first,” he insisted as he
began to caress her neck, his breath hot on her hair. She groaned
softly and his hand moved slowly along her shoulder, down over a
breast, then along her belly. Exquisite touch. Fear and desire made
her entire body tremble.

Just like before. I’ll do anything he
wants.

His warm hand was on her hip now, tracing her
thigh downwards, then up again. Back to her belly, around to her
buttock and up to the hollow in the small of her back. Her mouth
filled with saliva and she groaned as she panted her want. “Luc,
Luc, I’m so sorry. Let me…” He stopped her with a hot kiss to the
side of her neck.

She felt a gush of wet warmth soak into her
thong.

Yes, yes, yes. I’ll never escape the power of
the Virgin’s cult. I’m a slave to it. I’m a slave to Luc.

He dipped his hand under the flounced hem of
her skirt to explore. She spread her legs a little as she turned
her head up to his for a kiss. But, like that first time, he moved
his mouth, then his hand, away. Keeping control.

But she could hear his breathing grow louder,
faster.

He grabbed her chin again and held it steady,
his dark eyes looking deeply into hers. Then he exhaled in a groan
and said slowly, in barely a whisper, “It’s still there, isn’t
it?”

“What?” She couldn’t think at all, and her
arms were growing numb.

“That thing between us. It’s still there.” He
released her chin and began to rub his hand up and down the insides
of her thighs. She started at the urgency of his touch, and moaned
again as he reached higher and brushed the tips of his fingers over
the wet crotch of her thong. “See?” he asked as he put his hand to
her mouth and rubbed the damp fingers over her lips. She kissed
them.

“We still have it,” he insisted.

Now she understood. “Yes. We do,” she
whispered. All she could do was stifle a sob as she realized she
was helpless in her desire for him, and he knew it. He was playing
with her.

“I could take you right here,” he hissed. “I
could fuck you until you scream. Just like before,” he said between
clenched teeth. His free hand was on her neck now, encircling it
with his strength.

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes closing, giving in
to her need. “Yes, you could. I wish you would.”

She let her entire body go limp, and sensing
her surrender, he released her arms and stepped back. For a few
seconds she just stood there, leaning against the fridge, panting,
staring at the floor. Then he began to talk.

“You broke my heart, Joanna.” He didn’t move
after this confession, just stood beside her, eyes downcast. “No
one has ever done that to me. Ever.”

Jo looked up at him, mute.

“I didn’t know how bad it could be.” He took
a long, ragged breath and continued, rubbing his bristled jaw with
one hand. “No one can explain what it feels like to have your heart
break into pieces like that. It was the worst thing I’ve ever
experienced.”

Jo felt her heart pounding as the
significance of his words hit home.

He must have really loved her, then.

And now?

“Although we barely knew each other, I was
certain that I loved you. But when you hurt me like that, I knew I
hated you.” He looked at her now, and Jo saw the passion in his
eyes. Her own filled with tears.

“Oh, Luc! How could I have known?”

She really hadn’t. Who would guess that her
French lover of just a week would genuinely fall in love with her?
It seemed so unlikely, at the time.

“I loved you, too. I love you now,” she
insisted as she took hold of his hands and raised them to her face.
She kissed his fingers, wetting them with her tears.

“I would never knowingly hurt you, Luc. I
love you. I will
never
hurt you, I promise you that.”

He didn’t pull away, so she continued in a
rush. “You read my letter, didn’t you? You know why I left you. And
how I realized too late what a mistake that was.”

“Too late, Joanna. It was sent too late.”

“It was all I could do. I was in shock.
Grief. Can’t you see that? Let me explain! Please!”

“I’m not sure that words can ever be
enough.”

“What do you want me to do?” She asked in a
frantic voice. “At least let me try to tell you my side of the
story. Please be fair!”

“Fair!?” He blurted back at her. “What was
fair about what you did to me? I acted in good faith and you threw
me away once you’d finished with your little fling. Running home
with your lover, back to your nice little American life. Leaving me
with nothing but wreckage!

“I lost everything that was important to me.
I hurt Simone, and she left me. I estranged my family, and my
friends. My son barely recognizes me anymore. I lost my appetite, I
can’t sleep and I can’t say there’s a single thing I enjoy anymore.
Everything’s gone to shit!”

He might have been angry but Jo saw that his
beautiful dark eyes were wet with tears. Her heart contracted.

She raised both hands to his face and held
his head gently as if it were the most precious object in the
world. Looking steadily into his eyes she said calmly, enunciating
each word for effect, “Luc, I am so sorry if I caused you to
suffer. I love you like I have never loved
anyone
. I didn’t
expect to see you again, and the fact you are here right now is the
most significant thing that has happened to me. Ever. I swear I
will do everything I can to atone for the hurt I caused you. I will
spend the rest of my life trying to make you happy, if that’s what
you want.”

His upper lip quivered slightly as a tear
spilled from the corner of one eye and ran down his cheek. Jo
couldn’t bear to see him in so much pain. Instinctively, she put
her arms around him and held on as if she could absorb all the hurt
from him.

“Luc, my love, it’s going to be alright.
We’ll make it alright. We will. You’re my only lover. I have no
other—I want no other. I want only you…”

She babbled inane, soothing words, stroking
his hair, the back of his neck, holding on for dear life, until she
felt his body begin to relax.

Suddenly he stepped out of her grasp. “What’s
that music?” he asked as he cocked his head at a blues refrain
coming from her speakers.

Puzzled at his change of tone, she needed a
few seconds to recognize the tune.
Why’d You Lie?

“A Canadian musician, I think,” she said as
she felt herself being pulled into his arms. To her astonishment,
his body began a slow rhythmic rocking in time to the guitar.

Jo grew light-headed with relief. She hung
onto him as he led her into the living room. He seemed oblivious to
her clinging body, lost in the music, but she didn’t care. Just to
be able to feel him holding her was enough.

He was a good dancer, pulling her more
tightly against him. She responded, rubbing herself along his chest
and belly, rotating her hips into his pelvis until she was rewarded
by the thrill of his erection.

“I didn’t lie to you, Luc,” she whispered,
rubbing his broad back. “I would never lie to you. What happened
was beyond my control, at the time, and I sincerely regret not
being able to think clearly enough to do the right thing by you. I
beat myself up every day for what I did. I love you so much.”

He kissed her neck then, her cheek, and, when
she turned her mouth up to his he took it with a hot sweetness that
made her gasp. The music pushed them forward, into each other,
raising them into a mutual letting go of themselves and everything
they’d been carrying with them in the long months since they’d last
been together. Hot, wet, delicious kisses, cries and moans, they
melded into the turning union of the Yin and Yang.

The song ended and Luc scooped Jo into his
arms and carried her into the bedroom.

The lights of the city illuminated the room.
They could see the shine in each other’s eyes as he gently laid her
on the bed and settled beside her. She opened herself to him as
quietly and serenely as a flower, and he came to her silently,
dignified.