Jessa Ch 09

When Jessa came out of the bathroom, finger combing her close-cropped hair, she could hear Erich's voice out in the suite. She pulled the belt of her robe tighter and padded to the bedroom door. Torah was sitting at the table programming numbers into a cell phone. Erich was showing him gowns he had purchased for Jessa. Torah was looking at the slim styles and low necklines and growling. "This is the Parisian style," Erich argued patiently. "She'll be more comfortable here if she feels like she fits in."

"She's already like an amazon in the middle of a tribe of pigmies," Torah complained. "Dressing like that will only make it even more obvious. The women will hate her and the men will be all over her."

"If anything, the last few days should have convinced you that she can take care of herself," Erich reminded him.

"I can take care of myself," Jessa said walking further into the room. She looked at Torah. "You told me to trust no one. Well, that will be even easier to do if the women hate me and the men just want to grope me. You should have learned that at Summer's End."

Torah glared at them both, but gave up the argument. Erich handed off the purchases and she went into the bedroom to change. Once she had one of the gowns on, she began to see Torah's point. She'd always thought of herself as lean, but the way the gown was cut emphasized her narrow waist and made the rest of her look curvy and even taller all at the same time. Then there was the neckline, leaving little to the imagination. She dug through the bags until she found a scarf and tied it artfully around her neck, hoping that would mollify Torah. When she went back into the outer room, he glanced at her, but seemed resigned. Erich, however, had the audacity to wink. Jessa rolled her eyes.

Torah handed her the cell phone, then took her arm. "We have an appointment with a doctor and then we are meeting Jacq and his wife for dinner."

"Wife?" Jessa said in surprise. She had gotten the impression that men in Torah's 'profession' weren't normally wed. Torah only shrugged. Maybe Paris was different, she thought.

They drove across the occupied sector to a small hospital after letting Erich out in an area of office buildings, to meet up with them later. Jessa was biting her tongue, full of questions, but knowing how much Torah hated her questions. If this was to be her home, at least for the near future, she would have plenty of opportunity to learn things on her own. In the hospital, they found their way to the maternity wing and the waiting doctor. It appeared he had lots of time on his hands. They had passed a neonatal room that was almost empty.

After a quick change, he had Jessa on an exam table and was performing an ultrasound, searching in vain for any sign of life in her womb. When he finally shook his head, Jessa reached for Torah's hand. He seemed surprised but took her hand and squeezed it gently. She continued to hold on as the doctor explained that he wanted to run a probe into the uterus and examine the damage that might have been done. That involved numbing and expanding the cervix. It seemed like it took forever, but then he was removing the probe and explaining that there was deep muscle bruising, but it should continue to heal with no problem, save he wanted them to wait a month before trying to conceive again. He also wanted to see Jessa again after her next period, to be sure she was healed. Then he left them alone for Jessa to dress.

"I'm sorry, Torah. About the babies," she said, sitting on the edge of the exam table.

He sighed. "I am, too. I don't blame you, Jessa. Renik was my enemy. What happened to you was my fault."

"No!" she protested as he handed her the revealing gown. "I would kill all your enemies, if it would give you some peace." He looked at her in surprise.

"Why would you say that after everything that has befallen you? The choices that have been taken from you?"

"Did you chose to train, to become what you have become? Could you possibly have made such a choice at the age of twelve?"

"No." He answered.

"That's why I can say it." She pulled the gown over her head, hopping off the table and he turned her to do up the zipper.

When he turned her back, he looked down at her for a long moment, then said, "Don't tell Erich I said this, but you look very beautiful in this gown." She smiled and blushed as she tied the scarf discreetly about her neck.

They had an hour before they were to meet at the restaurant for dinner, so Torah drove her to some sights in the occupied sector and they took a brief walk on a bridge over the Seine. "I have arranged for servants," Torah said as they leaned on the bridge railing and watched autumn leaves floating down the river. "They have packed your belongings and are coming in a couple of days. They are loyal, discreet and they are highborn. But you must understand, there is knowledge that you have, that you will gain that they are not privileged to know. You must be careful in what you say around them, never leave your computer on. Are you hearing me?"

"But maybe if more people knew..."

He whipped a finger in the air to silence her. "That is not for you or me to decide. Tell me you understand."

"I understand," Jessa said softly.

"They are bringing one of my cars. You will have transportation. But you must not go outside the occupied sector."

"Torah, can I run in the mornings?"

He rested his hands on the stone railing, staring down at the water. "Will you accept Jacq's guidance on this? It is his city."

"Yes," she said with a nod.

He sighed heavily. "Then I will also. If he says it is safe, I will allow it."

"Thank you." She glanced aside at him. "Torah?"

He rolled his eyes. "You never run out of questions, do you?" She shook her head. "What is it?" he said, she thought with feigned exasperation.

"Were you able to avenge your teammate? The one that was killed?"

"No. It was all a setup by Renik, to get us out of Dusseldorf so he could grab you."

"Oh," she said softly.

"It's all right. You got even for both of us. I've been remiss in not saying thank you. But come now. We should get to the restaurant."

They returned to the car and drove a few blocks to a large restaurant. Erich was lounging outside. When Torah parked, he trotted over and opened Jessa's door. "Seen Jacq?" Torah asked.

"He'll be here shortly. He went to pick up Mari."

"His wife?" Jessa asked.

Erich nodded. "You'll like her."

"Let's go in," Torah said. "I need a drink."

Erich led the way into the restaurant. It was still somewhat early, especially by Paris standards, but nearly half the restaurant seemed to be occupied. Erich gave Jacq's name, and Jessa was surprised by the deference the maître d' accorded them, considering none of them were wearing crests to indicate rank, and both Erich and Torah were in their usual casual black clothing. When a number of eyes turned their way as they wound through the tables, Torah put a possessive arm around her waist. They were led to a table by a window that looked down on the Seine. A curved banc circled the back side of the table, so that every position had a beautiful view. Erich slid into the booth first and Torah gestured for Jessa to sit next, so that she was flanked by the two men. Erich began studying the wine list as Jessa glanced over her shoulder at the other guests in the restaurant. A number of them still seemed to be looking at her. She ducked her head. "They're staring at my hair, aren't they?" Erich glanced at her.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," he said. Torah just snickered.

She had noticed that most of the tables along the window were empty. Even from her limited experience in small town restaurants, she recognized the best tables were reserved for higher ranking parties. "Is Jacq a high Circle?" she asked, hoping she would remember the proper etiquette. Torah looked at her.

"He's Tenth," he replied. "Are you going to ask questions all through dinner?" his words more of a threat than a question.

She shook her head, and Erich thrust the wine list at her. "You're French. Pick something good for appetizers."

"Me!" she exclaimed.

"Just pick," he said as the wine steward approached the table. She found a white that was from her region of Parvil, which she knew to be light and dry. The wine steward seemed pleased with the selection as he strode away. A short time later, a platter of assorted hors d'oeuvres were brought. Jacq and Mari arrived at the same time as the wine, and they both seemed to approve also, ordering a second bottle. Jacq was older than Erich or Torah by possibly ten years. Mari was obviously pregnant and Jacq had poured her only a small sip of wine.

Jessa's insatiable curiosity was thoroughly annoyed by the idle chitchat about weather and seasons, and Mari's children but she bit her tongue and settled for what she could learn through observation. She noted that Jacq, although somewhat more formally dressed, was in dark clothing with no crest also. Mari had a small necklace on that displayed her Tenth Circle crest, with some sort of family cadency mark added. And yet, on a couple of occasions, when other diners passed by their table, diners of higher Circles, they would nod polite acknowledgement toward Jacq and often Torah and Erich also. And when waiters and servers came and went, certainly of either highborn or even Elite status, they were as deferential as they were to high Circle guests sitting at nearby tables. It was all so confusing.

Jessa was so involved in trying to sort out the protocols that she almost missed the offer from Mari to help her with wedding preparations. She hadn't really given any thought to what that would even look like in an occupied sector of a city her own family didn't even know anyone was living in. She looked at Torah for help and he just nodded at Mari. "She can help with everything," he said. "She understands the restrictions we need to observe. For safety," he added. Jessa found herself signed up for essentially an all-day shopping trip the following day.

When it came time for the entrée, it turned out that most of the offerings, apart from a few basics, were based on what was available on any given day. When Jessa found out that fresh shell fish was on the menu, she practically bounced in her seat. One of the few pleasures at Summer's End was the seafood, and even then it was limited to what was available from the North Sea. Everyone else at the table found her enthusiasm delightful, and Torah encouraged her to order a fettuccini replete with crab and scallops and shrimp. By the time desert came, a torte made with precious greenhouse-grown lemons, her mouth was in seventh heaven, on ecstasy overload.

As they finally prepared to leave the restaurant, it had grown dark out, and Jessa was reminded that she had only slept briefly, in the car, since yesterday afternoon, and Torah and Erich had undoubtedly gone even longer without sleep, though they didn't seem to show the effects. When she climbed into the back seat of the car for the short drive back to their hotel, she was yawning. Torah passed the keys to Erich and joined her in the back seat, pulling her against him and kissing the top of her head.

"You did well tonight," he said softly. "I know you had a thousand questions."

"More like three thousand," she replied with a yawn.

She could feel a chuckle rumble deep in his chest. "It must have been torture."

"You have no idea," she said, taking advantage of his good mood to snuggle against his chest and savor his warmth.

When they reached the hotel, Erich jumped out and did a quick scan of the neighborhood before Torah would let her out of the car. Then they were in the hotel and riding up the elevator to their room. Torah pulled her close again, and she wondered if he was rethinking his decision to leave her here in Paris. If only he could be this Torah all the time. But this Torah only seemed to emerge when he felt safe, like in Paris or at Summer's End. When there weren't enemies lurking around every corner. Maybe he was right, and this was the best place for her, and for them to be together, however briefly. The thought of returning to Dusseldorf terrified her, and she surely didn't want to return to his villa, where his mother clearly hated her. It didn't hurt that Jacq and Mari had seemed very nice. The three of them had slipped into French a few times during the evening, to the annoyance of Erich and Torah, though she suspected that they understood more than they let on.

When they reached the room, Torah pushed her gently toward the bedroom as Erich went to the bar and poured two tumblers of whiskey. Jessa got the hint and didn't need all that much encouragement, anyway, as tired as she was. She went into the bedroom and dug through the bags of clothes Erich had bought, only to discover that he had not thought to provide any sleepwear. Or perhaps that was his idea of a joke. At any rate, she was too tired to care. She cleaned quickly in the bathroom, then crawled into bed in panties only and was soon asleep.

An hour or so later, Torah came into the bedroom, making just enough noise to rouse her to the edge of wakefulness. He went into the bathroom and she was just beginning to drift back to sleep when he returned, climbing stealthily into the bed. Jessa remained still, knowing he must be exhausted and desperately in need of sleep, though she would have savored some of the cuddling that had occurred earlier in the evening. He didn't touch her, though she could feel the warmth radiating from him. She waited until his breath evened out. She didn't want to wake him, she just wanted to feel him there, feel the safety he represented, in his current persona, after the harrowing days of captivity and flight she had endured. She lay on her side, her back to him, and she scooted, painstakingly slowly toward him.

"What are you doing, Jessa?" he asked in the deceptively deep, soft, gentle voice she had come to dread.

"I just wanted to feel you next to me," she answered timidly.

"Why?"

What could she say? She wanted to feel safe, and he made her feel safe when he was Nice Torah, like tonight. But was he still Nice Torah? Because Angry Torah made her feel anything but safe. She opted for the truth. "Because I'm scared."

He didn't respond for the longest time, and she finally assumed that Angry Torah had returned. She reached out for the edge of the bed and began pulling herself away from him. Then his arm was around her ribs and he yanked her hard back against his chest, so that she gasped. He didn't say anything, his arm bound her tight but not painfully and his breath fell on her neck, in counterpoint to the movement of his chest at her back. It wasn't the safe feeling she had sought, yet as time passed and nothing more came of it, her fear abated, her heart stopped pounding and eventually, she slept again.

When Jessa awoke, it was because Torah's cock was twitching. During the night, he had moved even closer to her, or she to him, so that their legs were intertwined. His arm was still draped about her ribs and his breath still blew across the back of her neck. She lay perfectly still, which was hard to do with his cock so close to her pussy, twitching enticingly. She didn't want to wake him, but, as had always been the case, he was aware. "What do you want, Jessa?"

What could she say? Are you Angry Torah or Nice Torah this morning? That probably wouldn't go over well. She took a deep breath and plunged. "I want you to make love to me."

He seemed to pause. "Not fuck you?"

She shook her head against the pillow. "No, make love. I want the man who held me last night, in the car, and told me I did well. I want the man who told me I looked beautiful. I want the man who was as devastated about losing the babies as I was. I want that man to make love to me."

There was an interminable silence. But cocks don't lie. It continued to twitch, to harden, to grow. Jessa held her breath. Without a hint of warning, she found herself on her back. He was on top of her and his cock was pulsing between her legs. He reached down and ripped her panties away. He pushed her legs wide with his knees and flexed his hips to rub his cock up and down against her pussy lips, coating its length in her juices. Then he was arching, angling to find her entrance. She expected him to plunge hard into her, but he didn't. He pressed slowly, savoring each fractional inch until he was up against the limits of her vagina. And where Angry Torah would have shoved harder, stretching her above and beyond, this Torah simply took the measure of her and then worked it, a little deeper each time, a little more friction on her clit until she was begging him to go faster and deeper.

Torah wrapped his arms around her, under the small of her back, arching her back and pulling her hard against him as he buried himself over and over deep in her. As if he was building a memory to carry with him while they were apart, he ignored her pleas and took his time. She wrapped her legs tight around him and savored every moment, until the tension of the last couple weeks was washed clean away by the orgasm he delivered through love making and not fucking. And when he came, it was like planting the seed of future hopes rather than past failures. They both perceived a new beginning, though imperfect, in the moment.

****

Jessa returned to the hotel the next evening with armfuls of clothes and goods that Mari had insisted she needed. She felt awful spending so much of Torah's money, without even having an idea of how much that might be, but he had programmed his credit info into her phone and told her to get whatever she needed. Having no idea what that might be, she had depended on Mari's judgement, and Mari had brooked no arguments on the matter.

They had gone first for a dress, and Jessa knew her mother would be horrified that she wasn't going to wear the "family" dress. For that matter, her mother would be horrified that she had gotten married without family present, but they would not be allowed to know there was such a thing as city life in Paris, let alone that their daughter was now a part of that life. Jessa had no idea how she was going to explain any of that, let alone that she had lost the twins, and how she had lost them.

While the dress was being altered, Mari had taken her to other stores to buy trousseau items, then perfumes and body washes and luxuries that Jessa hadn't even conceived of, let alone desired. It was all beyond overwhelming, even before she was confronted with the decision of where to get married. Mari took her to a couple of parks, one overlooking the Seine, that were very beautiful and afforded picturesque gazeboes as well as the views, but forecasts suggested bad weather was moving in, and Jessa had no idea how long Torah would be able to stay before he had to return to Dusseldorf. Waiting for decent autumn weather would create an unpredictable time table to be sure. Then Mari took her to a cathedral built hundreds of years earlier. The interior was utterly breathtaking, but seemed entirely ostentatious for what was essentially a secretive wedding. It had taken Mari almost an hour of arm twisting to convince Jessa that the venue was both appropriate and affordable.

When they finally returned to the dress shop to pick up the altered gown, Jessa discovered that the seamstress had decorated the simple white gown she had picked out with beadwork about the neck, empire waist, and wrists with what she suspected were gemstones. Mari seemed as surprised as Jessa, though immensely pleased with the faceted blue beads. When the seamstress demanded Jessa try the gown on again, to check her alterations, Mari insisted on using Jessa's cell phone to take a picture and send it to Torah. Jessa remembered the choker that Erich had picked out, or had ordered made, with diamonds, and Torah's seeming exasperation at the expense. Would she be returning to find Angry Torah waiting at the hotel?