Tarotica

apartment. He allowed his eyes to feast on her flesh long enough to convey his intentions. “You look terrific.”

She handed him a bottle of Chardonnay from Fortuna Vineyards. “This is one of our best, in my opinion. I’ll be eager to hear your take on it.”

“Thanks. Can I pour some for you now? Dinner won’t be ready for half an hour.”

“Sure.” She cast her gaze around the apartment, checking it out. “The veal smells great.”

“I’d planned to have a Sangiovese with dinner. Is that okay with you?”

“Perfect.”

He opened the bottle of Chard and filled two glasses. As she took the one he offered, her fingers brushed his. Her touch sent electricity surging up his arm. They clinked glasses.

“To your visit,” he toasted. “Has it really been three years since you left Meditrina?”

“Thirty-nine months, to be exact.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Of course. I mean, Texas is fine, but it’s not Napa.”

He sipped the wine without taking his eyes off her. “This is pretty good. In a few years, you might give us a run for our money.”

“That’s the plan.” She looked up at him through her thick, dark lashes. “Coyote’s been good about sending me to other parts of the world to get ideas for our business. I’ve been to France and Italy a couple of times. Last February I went to Australia—I even met Greg Norman.”

“I’m envious. I’ve always regretted missing that excursion Troy chartered to France a few years back. Sounds like everyone had a hell of a good time.” He shrugged.

“But it coincided with my sister’s wedding—what can you do?”

She nodded. “It was great fun. Laissez les bon temps roulez, as we say in Louisiana.”

He stepped closer to her and pushed her dark curls away from her face, smelling her perfume. It reminded him of the Garden of Eden in New Orleans. “Maybe we can take a trip together one of these days.”

“Maybe.” She kissed him lightly, tracing the outline of his lips with her tongue.

He pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her harder, but she pushed him away, laughing. “Dinner first.”

“Of course.” He trailed the backs of his fingers along her collarbone and down to her cleavage. “With each bite, I’ll be thinking of how you taste.”

* * *

The veal turned out better than he’d expected, and Giselle praised his culinary skills lavishly. With only candlelight illuminating her face, she seemed to glow from within. Her skin shone like the moon, a pale, luminous gold, and her black eyes sparkled.

She ate the last bite and crossed her knife and fork on her plate. “How’s Meditrina’s Morte Jaune problem?”

“I think we’ve got it under control, for the moment at least. But we had to rip up a lot of vines to keep it from spreading.”

“Have you figured out yet how it started?”

Eli shook his head. “It’s not an airborne disease and you can’t just sprinkle it on the ground like rat poison. Someone had to plant infected vines among our healthy ones.”

“Hmm. That seems to rule out tourists tramping through the vineyard with contaminated shoes, doesn’t it?”

“I’d always suspected a competitor wanted to ruin us. That’s why I asked a botany professor at San Francisco State to study the disease. He compiled a report of all the vineyards in France where the Morte Jaune fungus is known to exist.” He set his plate aside and rested his elbows on the table. “Then someone ransacked my apartment and stole my computer, and those two French guys attacked me in San Francisco. Naturally my suspicion grew.”

“Did the police ever arrest anyone?”

“No, and they never arrested the two guys who tried to get me in New Orleans either.”

“Were they the same men who assaulted you in San Francisco?”

“I really can’t say. It happened so fast, I didn’t get a good look at them.”

Giselle smiled at him. “I’m glad you weren’t hurt.”

“Me too.” He poured the last of the Sangiovese into their glasses. “Morte Jaune can take three or four years to show up, so I went through Meditrina’s files to see when we had visitors from the French vineyards on my ‘diseased’ list. Interestingly, there were only a few during that time frame.”

“Do you have enough info to pin it on one of them?”

“Unfortunately, no. To accuse a competitor I’d have practically had to catch someone digging around in the vineyard in the dark of night.”

She sipped her wine, watching him over the rim of the glass with her dark, luminous eyes. “But it’s certainly possible. I mean, Meditrina isn’t a walled fortress.

Anybody who wanted to could get in and plant diseased vines.”

“I’m also considering the possibility of an inside job,” Eli said. “Whoever did it had to have a motive, as well as means and opportunity. I’ve examined the employee records for the past four years trying to find a logical suspect, but so far I can’t finger anyone. The whole thing’s so damned confusing.”

Giselle leaned across the table, which accentuated her cleavage, and took his hands in hers. “Why don’t we put work behind us for a while?”

* * *

The moon shone through the window, spilling its creamy light across Giselle’s full, round breasts with their erect purple tips. Eli sucked one nipple, then the other hungrily.

“Harder,” she moaned beneath him and grabbed his stiff cock. He obliged. As she guided him into her hot, wet slit, he buried his face in her cleavage.

“I want to fuck you ’til you can’t take it anymore, ’til you think you’ve died and gone to heaven,” he said, pumping her body so vigorously he worried that he might hurt her. But she wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him into her, slamming her mound against his pubic bone.

“Yes… oh, yes…”

Her fingernails dug into his skin. She bit his neck. Placing his hands on her ass, he lifted her pelvis to gain better access. He plunged into her as if she were a fertile field he was plowing with his rod. Again and again he thrust, delving deeper each time.

“Split me in two,” she growled as he rammed his cock in her with a force that brought her to a crashing orgasm. He almost lost it as she ground against him, howling her pleasure.

“Don’t come yet,” she ordered, squeezing the base of his cock.

He eased out of her, gasping. Giselle rolled over and presented her firm, round butt to him. “I want you to fuck me in the ass.”

Not many women he’d known liked it this way. Giselle’s unabashed eagerness revved him into high gear. First he inserted his finger to gently open her. Tight, but yielding. He was already so wet with her fluids that he had no trouble entering.

While he drove into her channel, she fingered her clit, uttering low, animal sounds. His balls slapped her buttocks. Moonlight washed her sweat-glistened back. He grabbed her breasts with both hands, pinching her hard nipples until she cried out, shuddering violently as she came. He couldn’t hold back any longer. Like a fire hose gushing, his cock convulsed, spurting its hot juice as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through him.

She collapsed on her stomach and he lay down on top of her, completely drained, his heart pounding against her back. Moments later he fell asleep.

* * *

Sounds coming from the guest room, which also served as his home office, woke Eli. His first thought was, the thieves are back.

He tossed off the sheet and grabbed the baseball bat he kept under the bed. Tiptoeing down the dark hall, he noticed a faint light emanating from his office. Quietly he stepped inside and switched on a lamp.

Giselle stood at his desk, naked, aiming a small flashlight at an open file drawer.