*****
Resting back against the headboard of his bed, Antoine picked up his journal and his favorite pen. Another day had come to a close and he hoped he could remember everything that had happened.
After checking to make sure the locksmith had indeed changed Leandra's locks and retrieved the keys for her, I made my way to her hotel. I asked the Concierge to call her room to let her know a car had arrived to take her home. I saw her as she emerged from the elevator. She seemed a bit despondent as she made her way through the lobby until she spotted me in the waiting area. Her face visibly changed as a contented look replaced the shadowed sadness. She hurried to me as if a sudden weight had been lifted and stopped quickly when she reached me, nearly stumbling into me before she caught herself.
I asked her why she seemed a bit anxious when I first saw her as she exited the elevator. She blushed [again, it was quite endearing] and admitted she was a bit hurt when the Concierge called and said a car was waiting for her. She thought I had blown her off or something, she said. If only she knew that was the furthest thing from my mind. In fact, I had devised a way to keep her in my company for a bit longer. If she agreed.
I picked up her bag and took her to my car. She commented that it was lovely, if not extravagant. I felt that twinge of embarrassment for my shallow tendencies, but I do appreciate beautiful things. That's not something that just goes away. So, yes, my silver Porsche is an extravagance, and one I would give up if it were asked of me...by the right person. I stopped by a small outdoor cafe and ordered a breakfast crepe for us. As we ate, I slid her the keys to her apartment across the table. She thanked me again, smiling brightly. My guilt was too much for me, I could pretend no longer.
Before I could lose my courage, I told her how guilty I felt that her things were stolen while I had her distracted at the Louvre and then when I insisted we stop for something to eat instead of heading directly to her apartment allowing the thieves an opportunity to ransack it. You would not believe [perhaps you would] just how sweet she was when she reached across the table and covered my hand with hers. She insisted it was not my fault and no one could have predicted that the thieves would go to her apartment. She also insisted it was her own stupidity that caused her to leave her bag unattended.
Her touch was mind-blowing. I almost forgot what I was confessing; I could think of nothing but the feel of her hand covering mine. What would she do if I leaned across the table and kissed her luscious mouth? I can hardly keep from thinking of it...and how sweet she must taste. Patience, I tell myself.
I then folded her fingers into my hand and confessed that I had distracted her purposefully. She was shocked I would do so. I was thrilled she didn't pull away from me. Softly I caressed the back of her hand with my thumb as I explained that I had become entranced while I watched her work and wanted to meet her. It was amazing, watching the blush appear on her cheeks. Still she did not pull her hand away and I took that as a good sign. She thought me crazy that I would intentionally distract her so that I could meet her. She really has no idea how beautiful she is. A beauty that is easily overlooked at a glance, but if you take the time, you will find it in every part of her. Her manners, her voice, her breathtaking eyes, the color and texture of her hair, her flawless skin that is left natural and uncovered by makeup, her pert little nose and her lips...those full, enticing lips.
After breakfast, I took her to her apartment. She gasped in surprise when she found it in complete order and asked if I had anything to do with it. I smiled, but did not answer. She knew from just that smile, that I did have everything to do with it. Not that I would tell her, but I offered my own maid a hefty bonus to straighten and clean her tiny apartment. Leandra [I just love saying that name] reacted in a way I was unprepared for. She jumped up and threw her arms around my neck and hugged me fiercely. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her steady. Her body molded to mine in such perfection I thought I might cry. The feel of her breasts pressed into the muscles of my chest through our clothing was divinely sensuous. I'm afraid I couldn't stop myself from running one hand up her back to cup her neck as she hugged me. I even twisted her silky hair between my fingers. It was like heaven.
When she quieted and pulled back slightly, our eyes locked for a moment. She was embarrassed by her actions and yet, I could read in her expression that she felt the same electricity between us that I felt. She began to apologize for her actions, but I couldn't bear to hear her apologize for something that I took such delight in. Instead, I brought my lips to within a breath of hers and shushed her. Her head tilted as if she questioned my move and I took the opportunity to touch my lips to hers. I tell you, her lips are a soft as a rose petal. It was not my intention of making any further advances on her, but to touch her lips was a temptation that I could no longer ignore.
I felt as well as heard her gasp when our lips touched. With my hand still cupping her neck, she had little recourse but to remain as she was. And when I made no further attempt to make the kiss more than just that slight touch, it was she who made the next move. She tilted her head further, allowing my lips to slant over hers and I felt her lips part beneath mine. I could not hold back; the feeling was such as I've never felt. A kiss is just a kiss, eh? No, not so with sweet Leandra. My lips slid over hers deliciously. When she sucked my bottom lip into her mouth, I moaned loudly. God, the feel of her! My hand left her neck and roamed her back while I still held her off the ground. I could hold back no longer; my tongue moved past her parted lips to enter the sweet chamber of her mouth. It was as I had imagined...a well of the sweetest nectar. I was lost in the exotic taste of her...like a pomegranate, she tasted. She held no protest while I tasted of her, delved into every inch of her mouth, teased and touched her tongue. Her lusty moans were more than indication that she felt what I felt; tasted what I tasted.
It was the sound of a passerby that broke our kiss. The opened door had been forgotten. Leandra pulled away, embarrassed, and indicated that I put her down. Reluctantly, I did. She closed the door and stood nervously after our brief encounter. It was then I asked her the question that I had been dying to since I picked her up at the hotel. "Would you like to spend some time at The House Laconte?" She had looked perplexed until she realized I meant the estate where my family produces an excellent bottle of champagne. She insisted that bringing a stranger to my family's home was quite an imposition and she would not hear of it. I grinned and told her my parents were expecting us this evening. That is, if she would agree to travel with me to their estate just outside of Epernay. I went on to assure her that it was a festive time for my family. The first day of harvest was near and there was always a large celebration for the workers and their family as well as the owners. A time of festivity that is to be shared with friends as well. "You are my friend, Leandra?" I asked her. "Of course, Antoine," she replied shyly. It did not escape my attention that her tongue nervously darted out to wet her lips. I ached to kiss her again, but did not want to rush her. It took a few more minutes to convince her my parents would accept her with open arms and she finally agreed to travel to my family's home.
I then left her to pack while I went to purchase a few things for our drive. It was approximately one hundred kilometers from Paris to Epernay. It is not a difficult or too lengthy a journey, and there is a special place midway that I wanted to take Leandra. I returned to her within the hour and she was ready and waiting for me. We were on our way within minutes and Leandra asked me many questions about my family during the drive. I told her about my mother and father and their incredible love for each other and their children. And my little sister, who gives me nothing but grief that I am away from the family for such long lengths of time. That brought Leandra to the dreaded question of why I am apart from my family. Thankfully that was when we came upon the spot I wanted to take her.
I pulled the car off the main road and drove down a winding dirt road and stopped the vehicle near a small stream. The water flowed rapidly although the stream was shallow. On either side were large patches of natural grass surrounded by blooming wildflowers. I glanced at Leandra who watched me intently. Her eyes danced with excitement and just a hint of mistrust. I grinned at her as I opened the car door and slid out, popping the lever that opened the luggage compartment. Her mistrust was understandable. For all she knew I brought her here to do something unseemly. But I knew once things were settled the mistrust would disappear and she would enjoy the scenery. While I busied myself retrieving the basket and light blanket, I heard the passenger door open and close and saw Leandra wander over to the bank of the small stream. She knelt down and dipped her hand into the cool water as it flowed by and from her profile I could see that dazzling smile again.
She turned as I approached with basket and blanket in hand, she stood and took the blanket from me and helped me spread it under a nearby tree. "How thoughtful," she commented. The smile had not left her face and in the shadow of the tree with the sunlight peeking between the leaves and branches, she reminded me of a beautiful pixie from a fairytale. I set the basket at the corner of the blanket and knelt beside her in the center. Her eyes held mine for a time, expressing her appreciation for the picnic. I reached over and gently touched her cheek and brushed a lock of hair from her face. I told her how beautiful she looked and watched the blush enter her cheeks as she leaned to my touch and I thought how much I wanted her...no, it was more than that. Needed her. As if my life depended on her touch, the caress of her lips on my skin, the feel of her pressed under my body as we made love.
She took my hand in hers and squeezed it gently before releasing it and making a move toward the basket. I think she is afraid of her developing feelings for me and that things are moving too fast. Yes, I think I am moving too fast. I told her to sit still and reached for the basket. Opening it, I handed her two wine goblets. I smiled at her as I retrieved the corkscrew and a favorite bottle of merlot. She questioned the fact that I purchased a label other than that of my family's and I laughed. I informed her that the Laconte's had an appreciation for the many different wines, but no champagne matches the flavor of The House Laconte. She smiled warmly as I poured the wine into each of the goblets. While she held the goblets, I set out the few containers in the basket. One was filled with chunks of freshly baked French bread. A second contained various cheese spreads. The third was filled with white and red grapes. Nothing fancy, just a small snack to tide us over until we reached Epernay.
Leaning carefree back against the tree, I accepted the wine she held out to me and lifted the glass to my lips. It paused there as I watched her sip from her glass; her head tipping back slightly, exposing the tender flesh of her throat. My gaze was held captivated by her slender throat as she swallowed the merlot, the sensuous path her muscles created as they worked the liquid along. I could only imagine the feel of my lips softly pressed against that same flesh, traveling the same lines that my eyes followed. Finally I tasted the liquid that slid past my lips, but the wine was the last thing I wanted to taste. Why is it so difficult for me to keep my mind off the need to touch her? Kiss her? Is this what happens to normal people or perhaps I am just losing my mind.
My attention was diverted slightly from my wandering thoughts when Leandra shifted slightly toward me and set her glass aside. I did the same before reaching for a small piece of bread and the tiny flat knife to spread a generous helping of cheese on the bread. I smiled softly as I held the bread to her lips and waited for her to accept my offering. My eyes held hers as her lips closed around the tidbit of food. It did not escape my notice that she tried to take the food without touching my fingers. Perhaps I was being too forward with the timid young lady. That was my thought, so I pulled the container closer and handed her the knife.
I can feel the smile on my lips as I write this. When I thought I had offended Leandra that was when she surprised me. She took the knife from my hand and our fingers touched. The touch was brief and yet I felt it from my fingertips to my toes. She took another sip from her glass, this one much larger, almost a gulp. Maybe she was searching for courage. She gingerly spread the cheese on the bread before timidly offering it up to my lips. Again, our eyes locked in an almost heated, telling gaze. I could see in her eyes she felt the electrical current between us, the curiosity to explore her feelings was easy to read. When I opened my mouth to close around the bread, she gently popped it into my mouth, the tip of her finger followed it just enough to enter my mouth. My lips closed around it softly, tenderly sucking her finger while she withdrew it. The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips while she watched me chew the small piece of bread.
Again she shifted her position until she sat beside me with less than two inches between our bodies and took another sip of her wine. She set her glass aside and turned to me, at the same time she moved the containers aside. She slid easily into my arms and rested her head on my shoulder. Just as earlier in her apartment, it felt natural to hold her supple form against mine as I stroked her soft hair. I whispered her name against her hair as she toyed with the collar of my shirt. Hesitantly, she admitted to her unexplainable feelings for me. She says they are unexplainable because she has no idea why in such a short time she could possibly become so enamored with someone, and yet, at the same time, she can't stop wanting to be held, touched or kissed by me. My heart jumps still from her admission. That she revealed her feelings was amazement in its own right. That her feelings match mine has me astonished.
Could it be that I, Antoine Laconte, a man hardened against love by his chosen former profession, has become lost in it? No. It just cannot be possible. Yes, I admit that I am attracted to her in a way I have never been before. But to love someone, does that not take time to develop? It's not feasible that love can blossom this quickly. I must be mad.
You are expecting me to tell you that I made love to her under that tree, aren't you? No, I did not. I held her, she held me. We fed each other and sat in silence and took in the beautiful scenery. It was a magnificent afternoon just lounging within each other's arms, oblivious to the world around us.
After leaving the small haven, it was not long before we reached the estate outside of Epernay. I pointed out the vast vineyards on either side of the car and she gasped at the sight of my home when it came into view. I think she wished she could have changed her mind about being here with me. She said it was an intimidating home, but I assured her my parents kept it filled with love. She smiled although she still appeared nervous. The thought that I was bringing a woman home to meet my parents for the first time ever popped into my mind. It was my turn to become nervous.
And it was no surprise that Mère and Père and my sister Sophie greeted us immediately upon arrival. Poor Leandra was swept up in a myriad of hugs and kisses and I distinctly heard the words "ma fille" from my mother and cringed hoping Leandra did not catch them in all the excitement. There was one little thing I had not mentioned to sweet Leandra. Because of my past, my father refused to allow any woman to accompany me to The House Laconte until such a time I had decided to change my life and marry. Of course, that was the assumption they made when I telephoned to ask if I might bring her home to show her the vineyards where I had grown up. I went along with their assumption selfishly. The vineyards are a quiet sanctuary, one where I could spend days getting to know this vision of loveliness without distraction or outside influences.
After the initial whirlwind greetings, Sophie shuffled Leandra off to show her to the room she would be using while she visited. Mère and Père ushered me to the study where they attempted to interrogate me about Leandra. They were disappointed when I could tell them very little. No matter, they said, they would come to know her while she stayed at the family home. This is where I tell myself that I must find the courage to tell Leandra and my parents the truth. First I will give them a day or two to get to know her. And when they do, I feel sure they will become enchanted with her as well.
The hour grows late. It is well past midnight and I can barely keep my eyes open. There is little more I can tell you of this day. We were kept occupied the rest of the day with my family and the evening meal. Leandra was quiet for the most part throughout the evening, listening with intensity to the stories my mother insisted on telling of my childhood. I could not keep my eyes off of her and many, many times when she looked into my eyes, I felt a desire unmatched in my own body and wholeheartedly mirrored within her eyes.
Sophie walked with us to her room, so even if I had been tempted to act upon my desire for her, my sister made it impossible to try. Leandra stood on tiptoes and kissed my cheek tenderly. My heart cried out for more than just that slight contact. I needed to feel her in my arms, kiss her deeply to taste the sweet nectar that can curb and at the same time increase my hunger for her.
With reluctance, I bid her and Sophie a goodnight and made my way to my room. It is much as I left it all those years ago. I will endeavor to sleep, knowing that sweet angel sleeps but the length of a corridor from me.
Until tomorrow...
Antoine opened the drawer to the nightstand and laid the journal inside. Closing the drawer, he switched the bedside lamp off and sunk into the comfortable mattress. He wasn't surprised when sleep did not immediately take him.
*****
