Pyromancist

by Charmaine Pauls

He lifted his eyes to hers. “I haven’t been good company. I apologize.”

  “Tell me what’s going on, please. It’s worse for me when you keep me in the dark.”

  For a couple of seconds he seemed indecisive, and then he said, “I wanted to spare you the worry.”

  “What worry?”

  “Before I left France, we tracked Lupien to Spain, where we lost his trail. It seems that he’s left Spain. I checked my ePad while you were in the shower.”

  “What is troubling you so much about it? The fact that he’s on the move, or that you don’t know where he is?”

  He looked at her for a long time. “I’m worried that he’s coming after you.”

  It wasn’t new information, but it still stabbed her like a pitchfork in the stomach.

  Looking concerned, Josselin got to his feet. He rounded the table and offered her a hand. “I hate to rush you, but I think the sooner we move the better.”

  “No sightseeing?” she said in an attempt to lift his mood.

  He gripped her fingers and kissed her hand. “Let’s pack. I got us seats on the evening flight to Paris.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “I’m scared.”

  He kissed her deeply. “Come. We have little time.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  They landed in Paris nine hours after their takeoff from the Oliver Tambo airport. Clelia was worried about customs as she had left the country from the Marseille harbor as Cléane de Villiers, but instead of queuing with the other commercial aircraft passengers, a security official met them at the plane exit and escorted them through a special clearance zone.

  “No passport control?” Clelia whispered.

  “Part of the fringe benefits that come with the job,” Josselin said. He put his arm around her and held her against his body as they walked to the waiting car.

  The driver drove them to the Marais district and dropped them on a square lined with Indian Lilac trees. It was freezing cold. It was only noon, but the sky was dark and heavy with rain.

  Josselin declined the driver’s help and carried their bags two flights of stairs to the top floor of a residential building. Clelia was surprised to see only one door where there should have been at least four apartments. Josselin unlocked the door, but instead of ushering her inside, he went in first, motioning for her to wait. He took a device from his pocket that she recognized from the shooting in Larmor. Maya had used a similar instrument to scan the car. She assumed that Josselin was checking the rooms. After a while, he returned and put his hands on her hips to move her inside.

  “Sorry I had to make you wait on the landing. I needed to be sure we’re safe and that the apartment is free of bugs.”

  Clelia looked around. “Another safe house?”

  “Cain owns several apartments throughout the world. It makes things easier.”

  They stood in a living room lavishly decorated in Renaissance style. A fireplace with a marble mantle dominated the far wall. Crystal chandeliers hung from pressed ceilings and when Josselin turned on the dim switch, their light threw shooting stars over the polished wooden floors.

  “When are we leaving for Brittany?” she said apprehensively.

  He took a few steps until he stood in front of her. “We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I thought you’d be tired after the flight.”

  “I’m not fragile, Josselin,” she said, smiling. “I can see that I’m going to have my hands full with an overprotective male.”

  He slipped his hand down the front of her coat and started to unbutton it. “Let me take your coat.” The first silk-covered button slipped from its buttonhole. “Don’t quote me in such a light manner.” The second button popped. “This is serious. I want to take care of you.”

  The last fastener gave way. He slipped his hands under the fabric, brushing his palms up her sides and over her breasts in a light caress until he stroked over her shoulders, pushing the coat from her body. Clelia stood mesmerized, her breath trapped in an ecstatic cry that she held back as Josselin caught the silk in one hand and draped it over a chair back without breaking eye contact.

  “You deserve to be cared for, Clelia.”

  She stared up at him and was lost in him all over again. How could someone as gentle and giving as Josselin ever believe that he was not worthy?

  She placed her hand on his cheek. “And you deserve to be loved, Josselin. You’re everything that’s good and wonderful to me. I love you. I love you because I can’t help it and I’ll never stop.”

  “I’m not who you think I am.”

  “I know you, Josselin de Arradon. I’ve known you forever.”

  He placed a finger on her lips to silence her. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “You’re wrong.” She gripped his hand and kissed the inside of his palm.

  “I realize that I’m bringing a twisted past into this relationship. I’ve been no angel. I won’t ask of you what no woman can give, to accept my past. All I ask is that you let me take care of you.”

  “You are already taking care of me, Josselin, like I am already loving you. All of you. Don’t you see? Nothing can change that.”

  “You saved my life. If it had been anyone but you, I would have cursed my savior. Don’t deny me the privilege of giving back without taking.”

  “Is this all it is to you? Repaying me for not allowing you to shoot yourself? Is this about settling the score?”

  His eyes flashed. “You know it isn’t. It’s about you.”

  “You ask me to let you care for me, not to deny you that need, yet, in the same breath, you expect me not to love a part of you, not to love the whole package. Your past is a part of you. It will always be. I love Josselin, not parts of Josselin. How can you deny me my truth?”

  “I’m not denying you your truth. I’m gladly accepting your love, even if I don’t deserve it. I’m asking you to open your eyes, to see what stands in front of you.”

  Clelia suddenly understood. Josselin was insecure. His battered self-image didn’t allow him faith in her love. He was worried that the passion would wear off; that she would look at him differently once the sexual tension between them had been relieved, to see what he thought he was–a demon. He wanted her to see the worst of him before he bound her to him. He was asking her not to be blinded by her passion and love.

  “My eyes are open. I see exactly who and what stands in front of me. It’s you who have your eyes closed. Don’t you see into your own heart, how good you are? I don’t love conditionally. You have it all, all of my love. Take it, or leave it. Would you rather I love another?”

  “No.” He grabbed her shoulders. “I could never stand that.”

  “Then just let me love you without restrictions.” Her hand went to the front of his pants, caressing his erection. “Let me touch you without restrictions.”

  His lips crushed hers, urgently, while his hands feverishly worked their way up her thighs under her dress. In three steps, she was backed into the wall. Josselin locked his hands around her waist to pick her up, his body holding her in place. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him and gasped at the delicious increase in pressure she felt as she rotated her hips into his.

  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 f
rom 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 w
hereabouts. 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.