“It’s so sad,” said Libitz, her usually strong voice thready with emotion.
J.C. adjusted slightly to put his arm around her and draw her against him, kissing her head again. He nodded, thinking of étienne, Jax, and Mad and how desperate he would feel to be separated from them during a war that would end up severing any chance to see one another again.
“But no word about the paintings or the model,” said J.C.
“Maybe in the journal?” asked Libitz, reaching for it.
“Jean-Christian! étienne just called wondering where you are.”
Jax’s voice sailed up the stairs, and Libitz straightened, wiggling out from under his arm as if caught doing something they oughtn’t.
“We should go,” she whispered, fishing her phone from her back pocket. “Oh, my God! It’s almost two!”
He picked up the letters and stuffed them gently into the journal. He called down to Jax, “Coming. Tell him we’ll be there in ten minutes.”
The sound of Jax’s laughter faded as she walked away from the base of the attic stairs, telling her brother that J.C. and Lib would be back soon.
“We lost track of time,” said Libitz, standing up and brushing off her jeans.
He immediately missed the warmth of her body pressed against his, the weight of her head resting on his shoulder. Looking up at her, he cocked his head to the side. “This was…fun. Is that weird?”
She seemed to weigh the question for a minute before rolling her eyes. “He thinks reading heartbreaking letters is fun.”
He stood up. “Admit it. You loved it.”
Without much coercion, she nodded. “I can’t lie. I’m fascinated by stuff like this.”
“How about I look through the journal and see if I can find anything about the model? And we can talk tomorrow at the BBQ?”
“Sounds like a plan. And maybe”—she shrugged—“maybe I’ll e-mail a couple of galleries in Marseille and see if I can find any information about Pierre. Perhaps some of his work is still available for sale?”
J.C. nodded. “Definitely worth a shot.”
She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and held it for a second before letting it go. J.C. had a feeling she was waiting for him to do something or say something in particular, but he didn’t know what. Suddenly, without warning, she stepped onto his shoes on tiptoe and touched her lips to his, once, twice, gently, without expectation or promise. When she drew away, she looked up into his eyes.
“I wish I could figure you out,” she murmured, as though giving sound to a thought.
He searched her face, tracing the strong angle of her jaw, the softness in her cheeks and lips, the way her dark eyelashes framed her wide brown eyes.
“I’m not complicated.”
She flinched, but just barely, backing away from him. “Don’t kid yourself.”
Then she turned and walked away, disappearing down the stairs and leaving him alone with relics of the past in the dim, dark attic.
***
When Libitz woke up in Kate’s guest room the next morning, she opened her eyes with a start, her dreams from last night still so vivid, and it took her a few seconds of deep breathing on her back to convince herself they weren’t real.
Her mind had conjured sharp, realistic images of her lying naked on Monsieur Montferrat’s chaise, but instead of the older French gentleman painting her, his grand-nephew had wielded the brush. It was intensely erotic holding Jean-Christian’s gaze as he stared at her over the top of the canvas, his eyes dilated and hot as he caressed the lines of her body with his eyes and brush.
Slipping her fingers into her sleeping shorts, she slid her middle finger over the carefully groomed triangular landing strip at the top of her clit. Inside the tender folds, she was soaked and slippery, her finger sliding easily over the erect nub of hidden flesh. She gasped as an image of Jean-Christian flitted through her mind, the sensory memory of his tongue in her mouth making her writhe with longing as she inserted two fingers into her sex, hooking them back to massage her G-spot. She whimpered, her hips lifting from the mattress in a shattering climax as she heard his words, The first time we fuck, it’s going to mean something, in her head. Panting as her body jerked and convulsed, she rolled onto her side and tucked her knees to her chest, trying to savor the shivers of pleasure.