A Late Summer Bloom by Cherrie Mack Page B

and gave her a firm shake.
    As Desiree blinked her eyes in rapid succession, her distress
heightened his grief as he realized she was not Aimee.
    Simon pushed her hands away when she continued to reach for him, and he
hung his head. Disappointment stabbed at his chest like a thousand knives.
    Desiree reached up, touching her lips. “Simon ... I ... I”
    He leveled a stern look at her. “Desiree, this is the worst kind of
trickery I’ve ever been subjected to. There is a reason I detest the modern day
witch, and this is it. How dare you play with my emotions and my—my body! You
owe me an apology.”
    She stood up, rigid in her stance. “I can’t explain it, but in these
last moments, you were so familiar to me. Honestly, I—” She glared at his naked
chest. “ Merde ! You are covered with scars.”
    Pulling his shirt closed, he demanded an explanation. “What kind of
ruse do you play?”
    “I’m not, I swear it.”
    He was skeptical of her innocence. “Is this the first time you’ve had
an experience such as this?”
    “Yes. I don’t recall something like this ever happening before.
Honest.”
    Simon folded his arms across his chest. “Have you found your true
calling?”
    He noticed her look down, the shame evident. “No. Not yet. I guess I’m
a late bloomer?”
    “Hmm. I don’t think so.”
    For the first time, he saw a beautiful blush rise up her neck and appear
on her cheeks. “Desiree, I’m no expert, but your gift might be trying to get
your attention. Maybe you can channel souls, but you’re blocking it.”
    “Blocking it? How?”
    “We will try to seek an answer. In the meantime, you and I are taking a
trip.”
    “Where?”
    “The witch, Giselle, remains in the Bayou. We will seek her out and put
your mind at ease. Once you agree not to interfere, I will watch over you from
afar. I cannot take the chance of this ever happening again.”
    Simon thought he saw a fleeting look of regret in her eyes, but almost
immediately, the fiery Desiree returned. She squared her shoulders and stood
up. “Won’t the master be upset if you don’t follow his order?”
    Simon turned his back to her and waved her away. “I will first seek
permission. The master forbade you to travel to Cottonwood Landing, not to Baton
Rouge.”
    “I’ll have to arrange for my absence.”
    “Take care of what you need to. Giselle will not be traveling for some
time. Once I get back, we will go to her together. Goodnight, Desiree.”
    Closing his eyes, Simon heard the bedroom door close. Believing,
somehow, his Aimee had returned to him shook him right down to his very core. He
must finish this assignment and put as much distance between him and New
Orleans as possible.

 
    Chapter Twelve
     
    Giselle breathed a sigh of relief when she and Julien turned off the
main road. Just ahead, a sign announced their arrival at Beaumont Plantation. The
bike began to slow down. Julien navigated the motorcycle up a path surrounded
by huge oak trees. The large oaks hung over the path, their branches coming
together, creating an illusion of a tunnel up to the main house. Moonlight
shone through the swaying leaves, casting shadows that resembled open arms,
welcoming them home.
    They stopped in front of a large antebellum mansion, complete with big,
white columns. It was beautiful and grand, and she immediately felt a great
peace settle over her. He was careful helping her off the motorcycle and his
touch gentle when he tapped her shoulder. Chilled from the loss of her fur
coat, Giselle watched the little rabbit scurry away into the brush. She shook
out her arms and stared at the house, admiring its loveliness. Although it needed
some tender loving care, there was something about the old sugar plantation
that made her feel at home. “It’s beautiful.”
    Unable to wait before taking a look inside, she rushed toward the front
door when a hand reached out, abruptly pulling her to a stop, “Oh, no, you
don’t. Your place is that way. And