Wishing Well(24)

Her brows pulled together in confusion. Stepping closer, I leaned over to bring my mouth dangerously close to her ear. “I’m talking about your name. It is traditionally pennies that get tossed in, isn’t it?”

“Oh!” Her laughter was like a siren’s song. “Yeah,” she said, placing distance between us again. I didn’t miss the goosebumps that dotted her flesh. She was affected by me already, even if she, herself, didn’t recognize it. “Very funny. For a second there, I thought you were going to snatch me up and dunk me just for the fun of it.”

“Vincent!”

Right on time...

Penelope’s head turned toward the sound, a woman’s voice thick with a French accent. Calling out again, émilie was drawing closer with each second, giving me just enough time to snatch Penelope at the hips, ignoring her surprised squeal as I dragged her backwards into a small, private niche that was bordered by tall camellia hedges, their red flowers still in full bloom. A small swing hung just inside, the chain rattling softly against the breeze, and just before Penelope could ask why I’d stolen her away, I pressed my hand over her mouth, brought my lips to her ear, and whispered, “Shush. I don’t want her to find me.”

Penelope attempted to turn her head to look in my direction, but I gripped my free hand over her hip, tugging her back against my chest and squeezing just hard enough to force a tiny sound in protest from her lips. My fingers tightened over her cheeks, and before she could panic and struggle, I explained on a voice only she could hear. “émilie and I had a small falling out last night. I would appreciate it greatly if you’d endure hiding just long enough for her to go away.”

I allowed her head to turn just enough so our eyes could meet, one word falling from my mouth that helped her relax against me. “Please.”



A single tense second led to some decision in her head. Her body relaxed more in response to my one word of placation. It would be the last time she would hear that particular syllable fall from my lips. But for this moment it was a means to an end, a moment I briefly wondered if Penelope would remember as the beginning of her fall.

From grace.

From independence.

From a life lived with her own thoughts and desires leading her way.

A moment when the heat of our bodies was in opposition to the cold wind. A moment when our shared silence cemented us together, letting her believe that we could be one unbreakable union at odds against the world.

I’d planted a seed that would one day flower, the roots driving deep into the soil as we stared at one another, listening and silently laughing as émilie continued calling, her voice carrying over the distance as Penelope pressed tighter to my chest. My fingers gripped down on her hip, our shared breath mingling as this interlude took a turn toward the type of heat I was sure she’d never encountered.

The flower budded, Penelope’s trust its scent. It was too bad the stem was firmly rooted in a soil of dishonesty and ill-intent.

Where she touched me, I’d become stone, and as my fingers brushed over the curve of her hip, she trembled. émilie’s voice was lost and forgotten, her search for me over, but still I stood in the private space holding a girl I wouldn’t allow to run from me much longer.

“Thank you,” I breathed out, my breath hot against her skin, the tip of my nose trailing against her hair as I breathed in the scent. Amused by the way she didn’t immediately move away, I slipped my hand from her mouth after taking one last second to feel her rasps of breath against my skin. “That was a meeting I wasn’t quite prepared for. You saved me.”

“That makes us even,” she answered, her voice husky with a hint of sex. “You saved me. I saved you.” Unmoving, we stood back to chest, a delicate blossom wrapped within the cruel hand that would pluck it from its stem.

When I didn’t move, she finally stepped forward, disappointment seeping in to caress the places were her body no longer touched mine. Turning, she asked, “What was the falling out? From what I saw yesterday, émilie was more than happy to see you.”

“It seems I didn’t share the same enthusiasm, at least not to her liking. I had quite the evening yesterday and I was tired.”

Penelope chuckled. “What happened to that endurance you’d bragged about? A man like you should be able to go all night.”

Sucking in a breath, I had to grip the leg of my pants to keep from reaching out and dragging her back to me. Kicking and screaming, if need be. “Perhaps it takes the right woman to draw the endurance out of me. And émilie has lost my interest.”

Penelope’s eyes rounded, my comment too close. “I should go,” she said quickly, her walls erecting once again in an effort to shove me out. It didn’t matter whether she used cement or stone, iron or titanium, I would find the weakness to breach her stronghold, one way or another.

“It’s getting late,” I agreed. “Your shift will begin soon.”

I watched her run off, un papillon dans le vent. A smile tugged at my lips as she turned right, taking a path that would lead her farther into the gardens. Noticing her mistake, she paused, turned left and ran off in the opposite direction toward the hotel’s entrance.

Her mind was addled, that much was obvious. And I had been the one to swirl my fingers through her calm waters to create that confusion, to disturb the surface just enough that truth was disguised beneath the ripples.