Chapter Nine

I was curled up in the center of Charlemagne's bed, dozing in the blue, flickering light of his television, when he finally came home. He drifted into the room, passing by the bed to slip into the bathroom. Yellow light flooded the doorframe and a moment later I heard the shower come on.

I slipped out of bed and padded towards the bathroom to peek inside. He'd stripped down to his slacks and was sitting on the edge of the tub, his curls loose and curtaining his face. "Charlemagne?"

"Did I wake you?" He murmured without raising his head.

I shook my head as I padded across the distance between us, the tile cool beneath my bare feet. "I was waiting for you." I said softly, raising my hand to slip my fingers through his hair. "Do you feel better?"

Charlemagne dipped his chin in a nod, but he didn't look up at me. He reached back for my hand, bringing it around so he could run his thumb over my palm. There'd been a small red mark, but he hadn't broken the skin. "Je suis tellement désolé, mon coeur." He said softly, bringing my hand up to kiss my palm. "Please forgive me." He sniffed, tilting his head back to finally look at me.

His eyes were blue again, but they were darkened by the look of absolute misery on his face. It was a look I recognized. Charlemagne had these bouts of melancholy, total depressive episodes. He was having one the night I hit him with my car, and he was having one now. He'd shut down, go into himself. Lounge on rooftops and in the middle of the road.

I shifted until I was standing between his legs and raised my hands to slip my fingers through his hair again, slipping my thumbs along the sharp planes of his cheekbones. I bent until our foreheads were touching. "Done. You're forgiven." I said, knowing that it would only get worse if I tried to tell him I wasn't upset with him in the first place.

I tilted my chin to kiss his forehead and then his nose and his bottom lip. "Is this okay?"

"Ca va." He murmured, one hand reaching for my hip while the other slid into my hair to bring my mouth back to his. It was tentative. A question.

I leaned into him to deepen our kiss. An answer. I'm not afraid of you. Heat rolled through me, settling in the pit of my stomach, and sharpening the ache between my legs. I squirmed and pressed my thighs together. "Can you really smell my arousal?" I breathed against his mouth, opening my eyes to look at him up close.

His nostrils flared, his eyes darkening on mine. "Yes." He murmured, hunger straining his voice.

My face flushed and the ache worsened. A building pressure in my lower abdomen. "Oh." I breathed out, slipping my fingers from his hair to touch his shoulders, to slide my fingers down his chest.

"Do you know how long I've wanted to drag you into my bed and keep you there?"

My breath hitched, lips parting as I continued to explore his skin, tracing a scar I'd never known was there on his chest. Just above his heart. "I want you to." I admitted.

Charlemagne's hand slid from hair to my chin, lifting my gaze back to his. "I could smell your fear too." He murmured, holding my gaze. "We do not have to do anything you do not want to do, Abigail. I have all the time in the world to wait for you."

I swept my gaze over his face before jerking forward to slam my mouth into his, nearly knocking him into the tub to kiss him deeply. "You're sure?" I mumbled, nuzzling into him.

"Absolument." Charlemagne chuckled, the misery softening out of his features. "You will tell me when you are ready, and I will teach you all the ways a body can know pleasure."

Another warm shiver swept through me. There was a part of me that wanted to know now, but I knew I wasn't ready. Not tonight, at least. "You're wonderful." I said softly, kissing him more gently. "Don't let it go to your head."

"I believe it is too late for that, ma cherie." He said, kissing my lower lip. "Will you stay with me tonight? Just to sleep, of course."

"Just to sleep." I agreed, pressing another kiss to his mouth. "I'll wait for you in bed."

"Mon dieu, I could get used to you saying that."

A soft smile slid across my face, lingering near the doorway as I glanced back at him. "I could get used to saying it."

"Okay, this is not what I thought you had in mind when you said you wanted to spoil me."

Charlemagne grinned back at me as he tugged at my hand, bringing me over the threshold into a small boutique. We'd spent nearly every moment together since he'd woken up at dusk. "I told you I wanted to buy you dresses."

I pulled him to a stop before we could go any further. "I know, but you know I don't need any of this stuff, right? Like, getting to work for a few hours earlier, and taking me to dinner even though you don't even eat food, that means a lot to me." I said softly, tilting one shoulder. "I like spending time with you."

Charlemagne's features softened as he shifted to raise a hand to my face. "I know, Abigail." He said, sliding his thumb along my cheekbone. "Consider it a selfish endeavor. More for me than you." He murmured. "I enjoy this. This is how I would like to spend some of our time together."

I softened and leaned into his hand. "Okay." I sighed, turning my head to kiss his palm. "I'm yours to dress up."

Charlemagne swooped down to kiss me. "Merci." He grinned against my mouth. "Shall we begin?"

I was standing on a small platform in front of several mirrors a few minutes later. Simone, the seamstress and proprietor of La Boheme, followed Charlemagne as he circled me. They were speaking softly in French, leaving me to catch only a word or two. She seemed pleasant enough, almost as excited as he was to get me out of my jeans and t-shirts.

"Bien, I'm going to pull a few items." Simone said, offering me a toothy grin before she hurried into the boutique proper.

"She's nice." I mumbled, watching her disappear before I turned back to Charlemagne. "Do you bring all your girls to her?"

Charlemagne's mouth twitched. "Would you be jealous if I did?" He countered, reaching up to place his hands on my hips and settle his chin on my sternum.

Rolling my eyes, I slipped my arms over his shoulders. "I would seethe with envy." I said, looking down at his face. "Actually, I don't know if I'd be jealous exactly. A little hard pressed, maybe."

His mouth spread into a grin. "No, you're the first girl I've taken to Simone." He said. "She is one of the best seamstresses I have come across in Louisiana and I have her fit some suits for me."

Despite what I'd said, relief filled my chest. "Charlemagne." I held his gaze. "I don't want you to bring anyone else here. I want to be the only one." I tilted my shoulder. Maybe it was silly, but if it all went down in flames, at least I'd get to keep this.

Charlemagne studied my gaze as he slid his arms around my waist. "You will be the only one." He promised, lifting his head up for me to press a kiss to his mouth. "Any more demands, mon coeur?"

I started to shake my head before something occurred to me. "Oh, and nothing too high in the heels department, okay? I can't walk in them."

He tilted his head from one side to the other. "Compromise. We'll save the really high heels for when you go to bed with me."

Blinking down at him, I raised my brows. "Heels in bed? You won't even let me put my shoes on your loveseat."

An utterly wicked grin curved his lips. "Abigail." He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my chin and then down along my jawline. "They'll be over my shoulders. No risk to my sheets."

Heat scalded my cheeks. "Oh." I breathed out, turning my head to kiss the side of his. "I guess that would be okay then." I said airily, trying not to think too hard about it.

Charlemagne chuckled again, his breath teasing my skin. "I'll be back with an assortment." He murmured, kissing my neck. "We will find you something you can walk in." He promised, pulling back to steal a kiss from me before he wandered off into the main part of the boutique.

I stood there fidgeting, glancing at my flushed reflection in the mirrors. I dragged my fingers through my hair, nerves starting to get tangled in my stomach. If I had to think about myself in any kind of terms, I was, if not pretty, at least cute. I dropped my hands to my round hips, to the softness around my belly. Bianca flashed through my head. Beautiful and thin.

And then I thought about Charlemagne telling her he was taken. By the human girl. By me. He knew what I looked like, and he'd chosen me.

"You are smiling." Simone returned with a rackful of dresses. "And I have not even put you in one of my dresses yet."

"Sorry, I'm having a hard time helping myself." I breathed out, my smile widening. "That is a lot of dresses." I said, eyeing the rack. "What should we try on first?"

She plucked a deep green gown off the rack and held it up for me. "Take off your clothes, please."

Eyeing the dress, I stepped out of my shoes and jacket, hesitating only for a second before I pulled my shirt and jeans off. At least I'd worn matching underwear. I took the dress from her and stepped into it, shimmying it up over my hips before slipping my arms through the straps.

Glancing up at the mirror, I reached back for the zipper when Charlemagne appeared next to my reflection. "Allow me." He murmured, dragging the zipper up my back, his knuckles brushing along my skin and sending a warm shiver through me.

"Thank you." I said, meeting his gaze in the mirror to smile at him, as I straightened.

He touched my hips and tilted his chin forward. "Look at yourself, mon coeur." He sighed. "Belle fille, and all mine."

Biting my lower lip, I shifted my gaze to the mirror. The dress, itself, was Grecian style, low-cut, tight at the waist, and flowing around my legs with slits all the way up to my thighs. I brought my shoulders back. The color of the dress complimented the rich, brown color of my eyes and even my hair. I looked like a forest nymph, or maybe even a goddess.

"You're smiling."

"I like it." I said, leaning back into him. "But where I would even wear this to?"

"I'll invent a place if we cannot find one." Charlemagne said, turning his head to kiss my shoulder. "More?"

I ran my fingers over the sides of the dress and nodded my head. "More." I agreed.

We went through several more dresses and it was clear that Simone was not only efficient, but she was good at her job. She picked things that flattered my figure and highlighted my features. And having Charlemagne watch me, hearing his adoring sighs, and the way he couldn't seem to stop touching me or finding an excuse to kiss me filled me with a warm sense of affection and even made me feel a little powerful.

When he said I was beautiful, I believed him.

"You look like a tournesol." He murmured, touching the hem of the marigold yellow sundress Simone had put me in. "My sunflower."

I raised my hands to slip my arms around his neck, bending down to kiss him deeply. "Thank you for this." I said, brushing my nose against his. "I'm really glad we did this, and I will dress up for you any time."

Charlemagne slid his fingers into my hair to bring my mouth back to his. "Let's go home."

I couldn't help the short laugh that escaped me. "You don't want to see more?"

"I want to have you to myself right now."

"Let's go home." I grinned against his mouth. "I think there's a Golden Girls marathon on tonight."

Grinning, he kissed me again before he stepped away to speak to Simone. They disappeared into the main part of the boutique as I stepped down from the platform to pull my jeans back on. It wasn't until I slid the denim over my hips that I felt my phone buzzing in my back pocket. I dug it out to glance at the screen. My heart sank. Three missed calls from my sister and one from my mom.

I called Miranda back first. "What's wrong?" I asked when she picked up.

"Where have you been? Why weren't you picking up?"

"I was out with Charlemagne. I didn't—I couldn't hear my phone." I shook my head to myself, the strain in her voice had me on edge. "What's wrong?"

"Christ, Abby, you need to watch the news." She snapped at me. "They found another girl. Another one like Gemma."

Ice dropped into the pit of my stomach. "Another one?" I whispered, like Gemma. "Another girl we knew?"

"No. No, she was—" Miranda cut herself off. "Abby, this one, she looked like you."