CultOfTheBlackVirgin by Serena Janes Page B

went for a run early in the morning. Jo was impressed.
    He sat down beside her, which pleased her—which excited her—because of the closeness of his body and the promise of its animal smell of fresh sweat. She wanted to smell the man who had already captured her eyes and ears.
    Refreshed and alert and still confident she could play this flirting game without penalty, now she untied her tongue enough to talk to him. No one else seemed to have much to say. The group was much more subdued than it had been the night before. Jo suspected that Ron was severely hung over. Even the Stewarts were quiet, for a change.
    So, trying to avoid staring at the damp patches on his t-shirt, over croissants and coffee she asked Luc all kinds of questions about the caves they’d be touring that morning.
    “How big is this cave?” she asked, and watched his face carefully as he answered her, no longer afraid of the power in his dark blue gaze.
    “Well, it’s really not a single cave, but a series of twelve or so. We’ll walk through a mile of galleries.”
    “How deep is it? Who discovered it? Are there any paintings inside?”
    Her questions kept coming. They gave her a legitimate reason to look into his eyes and watch his luscious mouth form the words, watch his eyebrows arch and relax and arch again as he described the details. After all, wasn’t he somewhat of an authority? Let the Arnolds get their information from a stupid book—she was getting a private briefing from the guide.
    No one could know that she heard barely a word he said.
    After he’d dutifully and thoroughly answered her questions, he said, with a light in his eyes, “So many questions, Joanna. But let me tell you this. The commercial caves we’re visiting today are merely that—a business catering to tourists. The best caves, the most archaeologically important caves, are, of course, Lascaux and dozens of others in this area. Lascaux isn’t open to the public, but other caves are worth a visit. If you’re interested in seeing them, I’ve arranged something.”
    “Oh? When?” She asked coyly. What does he have in mind?
    “Tomorrow afternoon, when we have some free time, I’ve offered to take a small group into the closest of these caves. My friend Armand will lead us. He’s a local expert. Would you like to join us?” he asked, with a look on his face that she couldn’t read. It seemed purely professional, but she wanted it to be more.
    “Well, maybe. I’ve never been inside a cave before. I’ll see how I enjoy the tourist cave before I commit. Is that all right with you?”
    “Whatever you wish, madam, ” he answered with an inquiring look in an equally coy tone. “Whatever you wish. Let me know what you decide. I’m at your service.”
    His smile set off the now familiar quivering in her belly, but she quelled it, returned his smile tenfold, and then smiled at the friendly waiter as he set a plate of perfectly poached eggs in front of her.
    Others at the table might have been a little quiet, but Jo felt wonderful, and found herself smiling at everyone, and at everything they said. Especially at Luc. She smiled and nodded and laughed, and she didn’t care if she looked and sounded like a fool. No one seemed to be paying much attention to her, or to anyone else, she thought, as they nursed their coffee.
    * * * *
    Glenda was paying attention, however. She made a mental note to tell her husband about the surprising change in Jo’s behavior to Luc. She’d transformed herself from almost rude yesterday to coquettish schoolgirl this morning. How odd.
    Maybe Edward was right, she thought. It had taken Joanna a few days to relax and feel comfortable in her new surroundings.
    Glenda saw that Iris, too, was well aware of Joanna’s flirtatious manner. The sullen young woman was listening to the banter between Luc and Jo, a look of disgust animating her blank features.
    Glenda felt sorry for her, guessing that she wouldn’t look so unattractive if