Read ROCKED BY THE WAVES for Free Online

book?», he said smoothly. «Did you have in mind anything particular for when I got home?»
    He looked me in the eyes.
    «I was waiting for you, yes», I replied sharply.
    «Are you alright? Were the Simons unkind to you?»
    «It’s you, Alex!»
    I had screamed. I was angry, I really was. He was stuck. Then he became suspicious.
    «What’s wrong, mon coeur? I didn’t do anything... is this about the meeting? I got home as soon as I could. I wanted to be with you».
    Then he looked at me.
    «So tell me about the meeting. Did you talk? What about?»
    He had understood by then.
    He went pale and sat.
    He seemed unable to speak.
    «I saw you».
    «What did you see?»
    I was screaming.
    «I saw you! Did you have fun?»
    He tried to deny.
    «How do you know it was me?»
    «It was awful. You shouldn’t have been there, not even as a spectator. Your scar, Alex. It was you».
    He was unable to decide what to say, so he remained silent.
    «It was not what you think. It’s a sacred moment».
    It was enough.
    «Very well, then. I’ll be doing the same, is this fine with you?»
    He turned red.
    «Don’t even think about it. Come to sleep».
    «I won’t be sleeping with you».
    But he had different plans. He held my arm and pushed me to the bed, where he undressed me. He kissed me and I stayed still, ice cold. When he stopped, he said: «I’m sorry. I was scared. I didn’t want you to go. I’m sorry. Don’t go. I won’t let you. I won’t be doing... it... again».
    «You won’t do it again».
    I surrendered.
    «I won’t».
    We couldn’t sleep. None of us could. But our argument was over.
     

CHAPTER 5
    THE SCOTTISH NAMED ANGUS
     
     
    After a stormy night, reconciliation is the sweetest thing. We left Carcassonne and Alex told me a story. It seemed that in France the words Notre Dame were an homage to Magdalene.
    «Why would she be called like that?», I asked.
    «In the Christian version, Madgalene is a prostitute. You told me so, right? But in France she’s supposed to have been entrusted with the Holy Graal».
    It sounded awkward to me and I was also feeling strange, as if someone was spying on us that very moment. Alex had used the word security the day before. I pretended to check on my boots and took the chance to have a look around. Nothing and no one.
    «You said you can’t tell me much stuff because of my security, that is to say...»
    «Suspicious deaths have taken place lately».
    So, secret society, mysteries and suspicious deaths. Good for you, Claire!
    «So, what are we supposed to do?»
    He smiled.
    «We’re on our honeymoon. We’ll enjoy. And if a little adventure joins us, it’ll be very welcome, right?»
    Right. Sure. We were just in danger, after all. Nothing to worry about.
    We stopped in Saint Hilaire, where we saw a lovely abbey sourrounded by vineyards. A priest from the North, Dom Pérignon, was supposed to have hidden his secret for the perfect spumante there.
    Then we went to Limoux, where some mysterious Black Lady was worshipped.
    «That’s Notre Dame de Marceille. It’s connected to Saint Sulpice, in Paris. People say there’s a sacred crypt hidden somewhere around here».
    Everything seemed to be hiding a secret. I was still feeling that we were being spied on. We went up North and got to Alet-les-Bains. It was a medieval town, full of symbols. They had been drawn everywhere and they were both Jewish and esoteric.
    It was charming but not really appropriate for a young couple. Alex was radiant, though.
    We stopped in a small hotel, where we would be able to eat something as well. I wanted to wash my face and take a nap. I was tired. Our room was small, but nice.
    On the wall, I noticed a painting. It caught my attention, since I was sure I had seen it before. But where?
    «It’s a very well known painting. Its original is in the Louvre. The three shepherds are examining a thumb with a little girl. I think the site must be nearby. If you like to, we might look for it».
    No, I