Chapter Twelve
“Not what I was expecting,” Finn said, looking around.
Almost every available surface, including much of the floor, in the small space was filled with Yoruba and Christian art, statues, and artifacts. Over a dozen voodoo dolls kept each other company on an altar of sorts, surrounded by gifts from former visitors, money offerings and even Mardis Gras beads. The heavy scent of incense and burned candles seemed to filter from the very walls. Finn raised his hand to touch a tall wooden statue that came almost to his shoulder, an unused cigarette in its mouth and lifted a brow at Emanuela.
“And just what were you expecting?” she asked with a tilt of her head.
His lips twitched, undoubtedly to spout a flippant response, but he was interrupted before he had the chance. A handsome, full figured woman with terracotta skin and a kind smile joined them in the foyer of one of the French Quarter’s most storied voodoo temples. She wore a white peasant top with a deep neckline, revealing a generous bosom, and her dark curls peeked from beneath a red headscarf. Her long, full red skirt swept the floor when she moved.
“Welcome,” her soothing voice greeted them. “I’m Priestess Felicie. Have you ever had a reading before?”
“Never,” Emanuela said, and Finn shook his head.
They were enamored of the woman already. It was hard not to be, so captivating was her aura coupled with the mystery of the place.
“Well there’s nothing to be afraid of,” she said. “I’m going to start off with a snake reading to prepare you—”
Emanuela’s soft gasp made the Priestess laugh.
“Nothing to be afraid of,” Priestess Felicie said again.
A python, none too small, materialized from somewhere behind her. Emanuela willed herself to stay put. It may have been fear, despite the kind woman’s reassurances, of what the snake would do if she moved suddenly that kept her planted where she stood.
Finn took a deep breath and watched, his brows stuck in their elevated position. The Priestess raised the snake above her head, its body writhing slowly, its tail curling around her wrist.
“Cross your arms over your chest,” she told Emanuela.
Emanuela did as instructed, controlling her breathing, making an effort to will away her anxiety. The woman lifted the snake over Emanuela’s head, raising and lowering the reptile until she’d walked a complete circle around her.
“This is an uncrossing.” Priestess Felicie took Emanuela’s hands and lowered them to extend out in front of her.
She looked into Emanuela’s eyes, and calm came over Emanuela. Though she was still not fond of the snake, her apprehension was gone. The Priestess brought the creature forward and allowed it to curl around Emanuela’s outstretched arms for just a moment. It slithered over her skin, cold and a little unnerving.
“The negative energy will leave you now so it won’t be a distraction during our time together.”
She smiled at Emanuela and moved to repeat the ritual on Finn. He didn’t look afraid at all. He seemed more intrigued than anything else, open to whatever was about to happen.
Priestess Felicie smiled at him. “I can feel that you are very transparent. Everything is there on the surface to see.” It wasn’t a compliment. It was an observation. “Follow me,” she told them, walking through a beaded doorway.
The inner temple was small, with even more gifts and artifacts filling the space. Several candles were lit throughout the room, and there was a clearing in the middle of the room where the floor was worn but very clean.
“Please sit,” the Priestess said, indicating two cloth-covered chairs on the edge of the clearing.
Finn pushed their chairs closer together and patted Emanuela’s knee when she sat down. The Priestess selected a glass jar full of a powdery yellow substance from a shelf and knelt on the floor. She poured the yellow powder onto the floor, using it to draw snake-like figures parallel to each other and spaced apart. “When our time together was scheduled, I was told I would be meeting with best friends.”
“I’m sorry,” Emanuela said. “She wasn’t able to make it this time because she was tied up at work.”
She smiled at Finn, who took her hand in his. Priestess Felicie completed the drawing with her powder. She seemed bemused but didn’t respond right away, drawing a cross at the top of the space between the snakes, and three sunbursts down the center. Then, she stood and walked the short distance to her seat at a small cloth-covered table.
“I see no error,” she said, looking at them candidly. “Except that yours is no ordinary friendship. There’s more to it than that, but you didn’t come here for advice about love or relationships.”
Once again, she was making an observation and didn’t require a response from either of them. Emanuela eyes met Finn’s at the mention of the words love and relationships. She’d stiffened in her seat and her face flushed. They had yet to discuss who or what they were to each other. They were so happy to be in the same place that they were using the time to simply enjoy each other.
The Priestess interrupted her thoughts. “That is your veve.” She indicated the drawing on the floor. “It is the voodoo spirit of courage.”
“Courage?” Finn asked.
The Priestess smiled at him and looked at Emanuela. “I think we could all use a little more courage, don’t you?”
Emanuela met her eyes and felt as though Priestess Felicie was speaking to her alone.
“I’d say so,” Finn said with a smile.
Emanuela swallowed and looked at Finn. He was enjoying this. She had to admit that it wasn’t what she thought it would be. The place certainly had its quirks—the many shrines or altars and the amalgam of seemingly random objects that made their home here. This was no spooky session of spells or conjurations. It felt like talking to an advisor or a close family friend.
“We’re going to let the spirit of courage dwell with us for a while.” The Priestess picked up her stones, gave them a shake within her palms and cast them on the table in front of her.
Emanuela didn’t know what the series of lines and symbols on the cloth covering the table meant. It could have been a game of Backgammon for all she could discern. Priestess Felicie looked at the orientation of the stones with great concentration, her hands clasped for several long moments. Finn and Emanuela looked at each other just as the silence started to stretch, and then the priestess spoke again. “This journey you’re taking is very important,” she said, alternating her gaze between the pair. “You both have some important decisions to make. These decisions will require a great deal of courage to overcome any barriers that might stand in your way.”
“Our journey here?” Emanuela asked, wondering if this weekend held some great significance. She felt Finn’s thumb moving gently over the back of her hand in encouragement.
The Priestess smiled at Emanuela, her voice warm. “Your journey to my home is temporary. The journey I’m talking about has more permanence. If you want to take it together, you will have to search your hearts. It is there that you should seek your answers. Don’t let your minds overtake you. Many a mind has ruined the desires of the heart. It seems to me that you both know your minds very well…” She paused a moment, lifting her head like she was receiving a message from some higher power. “Whatever is in your hearts, I hope you’ll share it with each other, or the energy I sense between you will consume you both.”
Though her words held some foreboding, the silence after she spoke to them was comforting. If the spirit of courage really did exist, it was sitting with them, holding their hands or their hearts or whatever it was that spirits did.
Priestess Felicie stood to extinguish the candles about the room. “You’re welcome to enjoy the courtyard and the museum if you like.”
They followed the priestess back to the foyer.
“Thank you for seeing us,” Finn said. “I had my reservations but I feel honored that you shared your wisdom with us.”
“Yes.” Emanuela smiled. “Thank you so much!”
She wouldn’t have taken the Priestess for a hugger, but hug them she did, and disappeared through the beaded doorway.
****
Jackson Square teemed with street vendors. The tantalizing smells of frying pastry dough, and a savory smorgasbord of New Orleans’ most celebrated cuisine hung thick in the humid air. Brass bands marched around the outskirts of the square and down the streets of the Quarter, playing unique renditions of Jazz’s most beloved songs. Artists of every kind hawked their wares, their voices lost in a bedlam of foot traffic, street performers and city sounds the moment Finn and Emanuela walked past them.
Though they’d stuffed themselves at Gene’s just a couple of hours ago, Finn’s mouth watered more and more with every vendor they passed. They came upon a food truck whose umbrella proudly displayed Pandora’s Snowballs and Emanuela’s eyes widened at the spectacular array of colorful flavors. Finn smiled knowingly and shook his head, following her to the end of the line.
They took a lazy stroll through the square, appreciating the sights and sounds as they savored their frozen treats. Emanuela’s snow cone disappeared quickly and Finn couldn’t resist a peck to her blue-tinged lips. Another kiss to her nose brought a giggle and then she was distracted by an incredible display of impressionist folk art, stopping to stare at the paintings in awe.
“Hi,” she said to the artist. “These are stunning! Especially this one.” She pointed to the piece that caught her eye.
“I’m Lily,” the artist said with a smile. “That one is near and dear to my heart. The subjects are real people and the music they were playing that night had so much feeling. I just had to capture it.”
Finn leaned in closer, admiring the way Lily was able to illustrate the glow of a French street lamp, and the way it lit up a clear New Orleans night as two jazz musicians played their saxophone and cello. “Amazing. I love their facial expressions. They’re really feeling the music.”
“Thank you,” Lily said. “They were very much one with the music they played. I would have been content to just watch them play if it wasn’t for my itchy painter’s hand.”
It was no surprise to Finn that Emanuela bought the piece. From the time they spent video chatting with each other, he remembered she had a love for impressionist art. Her immaculate walls were covered with beautiful pieces, and he thought about how great it would be to see them in person and hear how she acquired each one. The familiar pang of longing hit him again but he pushed it down, somewhere in his gut where it wouldn’t ruin their time together. I just have to wait for the right time.
Emanuela gave Lily her address and a check so the one of a kind piece could be mailed to her, and then she tugged Finn along, eager to return to their hotel to get ready for yet another surprise.
“Are you tired?” she asked. The hotel was just a five-minute walk from Jackson Square, but she was mindful of Finn’s leg.
“Just a little.” He squeezed her hand. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break with you for a little while before you subject me to whatever mischief you have planned.” He gave her his most devastating smile.
She mis-stepped and his smile widened.
“Don’t get any ideas,” she said, turning onto Royal Street. “We have to look pretty for where we’re going so you can’t go messing up my hard work.”
He couldn’t imagine it taking any effort for her to look gorgeous, but he kept that thought to himself, following her through the tiny crowd of people taking photos of their hotel and inside to their room.
****
They sat on the communal balcony just outside of their room, people watching and talking quietly to each other. The space could seat six, and they had it all to themselves. Emanuela’s chair was pulled up close to Finn’s, their seats touching to form a small loveseat. Her thighs rested across his lap, her legs and bare feet dangling at his side. He caressed her smooth skin absentmindedly.
“I can’t believe we’re here,” he said.
“Me neither. I can’t believe any of it, really. I mean, what are the odds of a story like ours? Your story alone is pretty incredible.”
“You looked me up. Well, of course you did. You’re very thorough.”
Emanuela averted her gaze for a moment.
“Don’t be embarrassed.” He bent to kiss her shoulder. “I looked you up too. A few times, in fact.” He grinned at her surprised expression. “I had the basics down, of course. Any good entrepreneur is part stalker. I already knew you were beautiful.” His hand moved just under the hem of her dress. “And sexy.” She trembled, and he smiled into her neck.
Her hand caught and held his naughty one before he could get carried away. His lips continued to trail her neck and she swallowed. “It was a little different for me. I knew nothing about you before we met, and then suddenly you were everywhere. Everyone wanted a piece of Finnegan Kane’s pie.”
His chuckle tickled her skin. “I didn’t know what to expect. Professionally, I knew you were impressive. I’m pretty sure you could make a book from the pages I read about you.”
“Really?” His lips moved to her collarbone and her shoulder rose involuntarily.
“Mmmhmm,” he mumbled against her skin, quickly losing interest in what he was saying.
“And?” She giggled, taking his face in her hands to stop him from burying it in her chest.
“And”—his eyes met hers—“I knew I felt a strong attraction to you, but I thought I would be able to handle a working relationship anyway. Why not? We live on different coasts and I just had to get through the weekend. Easy. I didn’t think you’d rope me in the way you did the second you walked into that restaurant. I realized I’d been lying to myself, psyching myself up probably. But I’m glad it happened.”
Her body went slack, melting against his chest. “I felt the same way,” she whispered.
He didn’t say anything else. He looked at her lips and relaxed his smile, smoothing the crinkles around his eyes. He watched them part in anticipation, then bent to kiss her. He loved the feel of her lips on his, so soft and full. It seemed like they were made for long, leisurely presses, for soft bites and gentle sips.
She was soft and responsive, embracing his face with her hands. He moved his hand from her leg and trailed it along her arm until it reached her neck, a whisper of touch that made her shiver as he continued to savor her for several long seconds.
A rowdy whoop went up in the air, joined by jeers and suggestive whistles. Finn and Emanuela pulled their faces apart to see a group of tourists egging them on from the street below. They smiled impishly and laughed, waving at their admirers and even posing for a few photos before the group moved on.
“We should get ready anyway,” she said, mirroring his reluctance to end the moment.
“We should.” He planted a soft kiss to her chin, then scooped her in his arms to carry her back inside.
Her laughter rang in his ears during the few short steps to their door. “Do you mind?” he asked. “My hands are full.”
She giggled and twisted the knob to open the door. He set her down carefully and held her by the waist for a moment. “Go get ready before I decide to foil your plans for the evening, Miss Monroe.”
His tone was playful, but he meant every word. She swallowed like she was trying to make up her mind about something. Then she gave him a quick peck on his cheek and stepped away, gathering a few things and disappearing into the bathroom.
****
She emerged sometime later wearing her bathrobe, though she was completely dry, and several rollers in her hair.
“You look breathtaking,” Finn said, stepping out of the way of her playful smack before it could land on his ass.
“Just go take your turn,” she snapped. “Time’s a-wasting!”
She sat at the antique buffet in front of a large gilded mirror, skillfully applying her makeup. Finn came out of the bathroom, dry but for his damp curls. He sat on the edge of the bed in his boxers to put on his leg.
He caught her checking him out in the mirror and made a point to let her see him catch her staring. She blushed, turning her attention back to her face.
He grinned and positively sauntered his way to the armoire to pull out his clothes, making sure his path passed close to her so she’d catch every bit of his performance. She snickered and finished her makeup with a deep red lip before moving on to remove the rollers from her hair. By the time her hair was styled into full, flirtatious curls, Finn was dressed in slim black slacks that were fitted to his long limbs, and a white shirt unbuttoned at the top to allow a few short curls to peek out. His shoes were shined to perfection, the gray dinner jacket he wore on their first date slung over his arm.
His eyes lit up with amusement at Emanuela’s appearance. “Well I, for one, think you look beautiful in anything. I just don’t want you to feel self-conscious with me looking so fancy and you in your bathrobe.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you,” she said. “I just need your help with something.” She slowly removed her robe but remained where she stood.
He whistled low at the sight of her. She was sheathed all in black, her soft curves hugged by the smooth fabric. The neckline of the sleeveless dress plunged to show the collarbone he adored, and just enough of the valley between her small breasts to make his tongue snake out to lick his lips. Her feet were nearly nude, a single black strap across her toes and another around her ankles all that held the sexy stilettos in place. “Help with—”
There didn’t seem to be anything amiss with her outfit. Then she turned around.
He inhaled sharply. Her dress was open, the zipper dangerously low on her back revealing a glorious expanse of golden brown skin and a flash of red that caught his eye.
She tossed him coquettish look over her shoulder and moved her hair out of the way. “Could you zip me?”
He tossed his jacket on the bed, the rumple of fabric sounding loud in the otherwise silent room, and stepped behind her. He made no move to zip her dress. He wanted her to feel the heat from his body, the burn of anticipation she kindled within him with her game. He trailed his knuckles down her back and she moaned, arching against his hand. Down his knuckles went…down, down, slowly down…until they brushed the dip above the curve of her ass and her body jerked reflexively.
Finn swore, feeling a rush of blood to his groin at her responsiveness. He was intrigued by the stunning contrast of the sheer red band of her bra across her back. He pulled one of her dress straps off her shoulder and halfway down her arm. A soft breast was visible through the sheer fabric of her bra, only her nipple and the topmost portion covered by floral appliqués.
“Jesus.”
She flashed a smug little grin at his reaction, and he grabbed her by her arms, yanking her to him. She gasped, and he knew she could feel his arousal against her backside. He wrapped an arm around her, planting one hand firmly to her tummy to press her against him, kneading a breast with the other.
“Finn!”
He didn’t stop. He increased the pressure of his massaging hand and sneered in her ear. “Little cruel, don’t you think, dangling steak in front of a starving man?”
He quickly zipped her up and crossed the room to lift his dinner jacket from the bed. “Shall we?” he said gruffly, his lips a hard line.
He wasn’t angry. He was channeling every bit of energy he had into controlling his lust. The only thing stopping him from taking her into his arms again was his word. He wouldn’t disrupt her plans for the evening. All that would be damned to hell if they didn’t leave right now.
Emanuela grabbed her evening bag and preceded him from the room without a word.