her perfect little derriere as he urged her along ahead of him through
a doorway. She stiffened at the touches at first, her body heating in response
beneath his hand every time he placed it against her, but eventually she
relaxed, acclimating to his touches no doubt because she believed they wouldn’t
go any further. “
And they
wouldn’t, for now.
Becca took
a deep breath as they exited the castle and stepped into the Jardins du château
de Versailles. “These gardens took over forty years to plan and create,”
she said, spreading her hands to indicate the vastness of the grounds. “A
testament to the extravagance of the French royalty… as well as their eye for
true beauty.”
“Are we
going to explore the whole thing?” Jericho asked, his eyes scanning the vast
terrain. “Not that I’m against the idea… but I imagine it could take us quite
awhile.”
Becca
shook her head. “We don’t have time for that, unfortunately. But, if you’re
interested… I’ll take you to my favorite spot in the gardens,” she said with a
coy smile.
Jericho
cocked his head, intrigued. “Lead the way.”
She took
him past several parterres – formal gardens laid out in symmetrical
patterns on a level surface, fountains and sculptures, pointing them out along
the way and giving him a brief history of each, remaining steadfast in her tour
guide roll. Except somewhere along the route, when he’d taken a misstep, she’d
taken hold of his forearm in order to pull him along so she wouldn’t have to
worry about him getting lost. He smiled at the sight of her long, elegant
fingers wrapped around his dark leather sleeve – it was a sign she was
getting more and more comfortable with him.
“Here we
are,” she said as they emerged into another copse of trees forming geometric
patterns around a fountain that was identical to the many fountains spread out
across Versailles. Jericho frowned as he looked around, wondering what was so
special about the place, and then he noticed the boxes around each of the
trees. Looking up into the foliage, he saw clusters of small, white blossoms
hanging from the branches, and understanding dawned on him.
“This is
an orange grove.”
“The
Versailles Orangerie,” Becca confirmed. A dreamy smile floated across her face
as her dark eyes drifted across their surroundings. “The oldest part of the
gardens, built well before even the castle had truly started it’s
reconstruction.”
She led Jericho
to a white stone bench near the fountain, and he drew himself down to sit
beside her so they could enjoy the Orangerie together. “I always try to take my
clients here if there’s enough time in the day,” she told him, looking out at
the grounds. “It might not be as fancy as some of the other places at
Versailles, but there’s something so peaceful about it… and I love the scent of
the orange blossoms.”
“Mmm… yes,
I see what you mean.” He closed his eyes and inhaled their sweet fragrance,
which held just a hint of the fruit they would one day blossom into. His nose
was quickly distracted by Becca’s own addictive scent, though, and he
instinctively drew closer, wanting more of her. “You’re an awesome tour guide,
Miss Donaldson,” he said quietly, drawing her hair off her shoulder to expose
the creamy nape of her neck. “I can feel your passion and love for this beautiful
city.”
Becca
shivered as Jericho leaned down and nuzzled into the side of her neck, inhaling
deeply. She felt a shudder rip through his own body, and the idea that
something as simple as her own scent could affect him so much only made her
want him more.
“Jericho…”
his name came out as a plea, though whether or not for him to stop or keep
going, she truly did not know.
“Don’t,”
he growled, his lips tracing the words against the
Learning to Kill: Stories