Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

2

Love in Focus

“

T

HE

great honor we have awaited is here. Ladies and

gentlemen, welcome an artist who needs no introduction, the
supreme portrait photographer, Jean-Luc Montpluessy!”
Museum director Maru Daniels stepped away from the
podium. His reverent applause encouraged the cheering
crowd.

On any normal day, gaining erudite Maru’s notice would

rank high on Aidan MacLeod’s seduction list. The handsome
director of Paris’s Museum of Photography appreciated
closely mentoring young photographers. Aidan had met two
of the previous lucky protégés and heard nothing but praise
for Maru’s manly charms.

Today Aidan ignored Maru’s existence. He moved toward

the low stage for another crucial reason. He ducked around
a burly security guard, rushed past the first five rows to the
stage’s edge, and raised his camera. Aidan wanted to capture
special photos of his photographic idol before the security
brutes shut him down. The excited ruckus reminded Aidan
of the old days, pressing close against a low club stage to
capture sexy Freddie Mercury’s onstage prance. Passion and
impending hysteria filled the museum’s elegant lecture hall.
Although Jean-Luc had hidden away from the world, in 1978
devotees still adored him.

He framed the first shot. Damn. He clicked. His heart

beat in frantic triple time. At age seventy-eight, Jean-Luc
Montpluessy still displayed a classic screen idol’s debonair
demeanor. Long silver hair swept back from aristocratic
cheekbones in a cock-teasing manner. The legend’s pale blue
eyes reflected the flashes. Aidan clicked, advanced film,
clicked, and advanced film.

Jean-Luc smiled and raised his thin hand to the

audience in shy acknowledgement. Aidan focused and

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

3

clicked. The crowd’s adoration rattled the old stained-glass
skylights.

Click, advance, click, advance, click, advance, click,

advance. Aidan lowered his battered Nikon. He whooped in

wild delight. Imagine standing mere feet away from genius.
He breathed in. He hoped a few genius molecules entered his
lungs.

Excitement encouraged him to shout in delight, “Jean-

Luc, you are the best!”

Jean-Luc froze. He whirled from stepping to the podium.

He stared down.

The excited Aidan whooped again and waved in merry

glee. Jean-Luc peered past the dazzling flashbulbs and
focused on Aidan. Aidan clicked shot number twelve. Damn,
he was acting moronic, but come on, he had acted the same
way a year ago when pop legend David Peacock played a
small Amsterdam club. Calling attention to himself had
gained Aidan exclusive backstage close-ups. The photos
netted him rent money for months. The sublime meeting had
also scored a wild, lusty night. The singer’s passionate
onstage moves had foreshadowed his inventive sexual
prowess.

Aidan had no problem using his physical charms. He

hoped his impulsive action gained Jean-Luc’s precious
attention. Attention at the lecture’s start might grant Aidan
personal time with Jean-Luc after the talk.

The idea of personal time with Jean-Luc thrilled Aidan.

The legend’s silvery mane begged for his caress. Aidan
appreciated older gentlemen. He understood how to please
them.

Jean-Luc beckoned to Maru. Various hands pointed at

Aidan. Yes! Jean-Luc had noticed him. Triumph sparked
through Aidan’s tense muscles. Considering how much
money he had spent to attend this two-day conference, he
deserved compensation, even if it arrived via a mundane

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

4

handshake. Aidan wanted to meet the amazing photographer
whose groundbreaking portraiture had inspired Aidan’s
struggling career. Montpluessy had ceased photography
back in 1941, but his previous portraits still soared above
any other photographer’s work. Jean-Luc’s amazing portraits
opened windows into the subject’s soul. His art captured
something beyond the norm.

Hard to believe thirty-seven years had passed since

Jean-Luc had appeared in public or displayed any new
photography. In 1941, he became a total recluse but never
explained why.

Aidan hoped to ask Jean-Luc why in person.
Two imposing security guards approached Aidan. He

arched his brows in delight. They grabbed an arm apiece,
and instead of escorting Aidan toward the backstage area,
dragged him away from his goal.

No! Aidan struggled against their determined strength.

His head jerked up.

Jean-Luc watched Aidan’s removal. The sorrow tainting

Jean-Luc’s patrician features bewildered Aidan. The sorrow
merged with regret, despair, and worst of all, stunned
recognition.

The complex expression drove Aidan wild. What did it

mean? He tried wrenching free from the human force hauling
him toward a side door. The guards swept him out and
deposited him on the ugly brown floral carpet. Aidan almost
tripped over his feet. He shook his head in disbelief,
straightened up, and clenched his fists.

The guards blocked the door in silent threat. Their stoic

attitude offered Aidan no sympathy.

“Young man?” A husky French accent demanded

Aidan’s attention.

Aidan whirled from glaring at the guards and almost

knocked over the breathless Maru. Maru must have slid out

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

5

the other door. Aidan snarled in fury. “What the hell is going
on here?”

The director shook his head in agitation. He acted as

confused as Aidan. “I’m sorry, young man, I know you are
properly registered, but you have upset the master.”

“What? Are you kidding? I upset him? How do you think

I feel? Those damned thugs dragged me from a lecture I paid
a fortune to attend. Why did Jean-Luc seem like he
recognized me? I repeat, what the hell is going on?” Aidan
stalked toward the doors. He realized his aggression solved
nothing, but the situation pissed him off.

He squared his slight shoulders. The hulking guards

watched in contempt. “Get out of my way now!” He decided
adding in “Or else” encouraged their rude laughter.

Fingers dug into his shoulders and whirled him around.

“Monsieur—” Maru peered at Aidan’s badge. “—MacLeod,
please, you will receive a full refund. I’m sorry, for some
reason Monsieur Montpluessy does not want you near him.”

Aidan fired off one nasty word. “Why?”
Manicured fingers fluttered toward the ceiling. Maru

sniffed in arch dismissal. “One does not ask a legend why,
one obeys his commands.” Before Aidan could react, Maru
unclipped Aidan’s badge from its silver neck chain. The
director shook his head. “Monsieur, come to the registration
desk tomorrow morning. Do not try to enter the conference
again today. My guest of honor is too important to upset.
Tomorrow morning you may enter as you wish. Jean-Luc is
leaving tonight.”

Rage bounced around in Aidan’s mind. His pointer

finger poked Maru’s expensively clad shoulder. “What about
my full refund?”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, I will still give you a full refund.

Please understand, this situation baffles me as much as it
does you.” Maru waved his hands in dramatic despair. “Now,

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

6

I must put a stop to the photographing. Jean-Luc is already
agitated. If he walks off the stage, I am disgraced.”

The infuriated Aidan watched Maru slip past the

behemoths. Inside the lecture hall, Jean-Luc’s quiet voice
whispered free. Flashes broke the darkness. The doors
clicked shut.

The click sounded as loud as a rifle shot. Aidan’s breath

emerged in panting gasps. What had just happened? He
stepped toward the doors. The guards moved closer together
and scowled.

Why had Jean-Luc looked at Aidan in such sorrow, in

such recognition? Why had he dismissed Aidan from the
lecture?

Aidan huffed and stalked toward the lobby. No use

trying to defeat those big boys. In many situations, Aidan’s
sexy smile and seductive chatter worked magic, but not in
this case. Those guards valued their jobs.

Thinking about the lecture made his head ache. He

stopped to catch his breath. Imagine his dream mentor
tossing him from the lecture! Aidan couldn’t feel more
shocked unless he licked his finger, leaned down, and tested
an electrical outlet. What had he done aside from snap a few
photos?

Stop. Aidan needed to move past that idea. Taking

photos had not created the problem. Many other devotees
also snapped the master’s photo. Think. Only Aidan had
yelled in attention-seeking lust. His outburst had instead
secured Jean-Luc’s rejection. Way to reverse the plan.

Another sullen security guard approached him. Right,

today Aidan needed his badge to stand here. Damn it part
one. Aidan held up his hands and escaped from the
museum. Damn it part two waved its hand. Charming his
way into the sold-out reception following the lecture
suddenly turned impossible.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

7

He paced before the museum’s red-brick Victorian bulk.

His mind tried to understand what had occurred. Jean-Luc’s
bizarre reaction astounded him. The young photographer
hated complex puzzles and never appreciated existing in one.

He paced. The fresh air helped him think. A hazy plan

formed in his mind.

First he wanted to develop his film. A helpful pedestrian

directed him to a nearby drugstore with a photo lab. Perfect.
Despite lacking finances, Aidan paid extra to guarantee
overnight service.

He needed to see those photos. He also needed to see

Jean-Luc again. Before those events happened, Aidan
needed to wait. At least the warm spring weather encouraged
walking. Brisk movement helped pound down his swirling
thoughts.

The sorrow in Jean-Luc’s gaze continued to confuse

Aidan. The recognition haunted him.

What did the puzzle mean?
Quick steps took him across the Pont Marie. He

navigated around Notre Dame’s imposing vastness. Aidan
swore the many carved figures looked down on him in silent
pity. The people milling before the cathedral probably
thought the same thing.

A long stroll along the Seine consumed time. Aidan

popped in a new film roll and framed a few skyline shots.
When he reached the Pont Neuf, he checked his watch. By
now the reception would be taking place. He congratulated
himself for not having purchased his London return ticket.
What did he have to return to in London? His cousin’s couch
and a few boxes of books?

The need to see Jean-Luc pushed past other thoughts,

thoughts of needing more money, needing more photography
gigs, and needing a real home. Too much sorry need littered
Aidan’s life. Why had Jean-Luc ordered Aidan away from the
lecture? The anxious thought spun forward in glittering

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

8

demand. The recognition tainting Jean-Luc’s expression
sliced Aidan’s heart.

Wandering through the Tuileries supplied Aidan with

visual distraction. The many statues called to his artistic
sense. Framing abstract compositions using marble muscles
and grace worked to derail his anxiety.

The glowing sun dipped in the sky. Aidan noted the

time. He estimated that the reception was moving toward an
early conclusion. After all, Jean-Luc wanted to return home.
The legend despised leaving his family château. Four
biographies supported the claim. Three months ago, Aidan
had met biographer Thierry Charac at a press party in
London. Aidan’s old BBC photo credentials came in handy
when he required a sneaky entrance. As they huddled in the
corner, Thierry supplied good gossip. Later, he gave Aidan a
great fucking. Sad that the old rake had never supplied
Aidan with any positive job leads.

Aidan scolded himself. He needed to focus. Maru had

also confirmed Jean-Luc’s desire to leave Paris. He turned
back and hastened toward the museum.

Less than twenty photographic groupies lurked around

the museum’s service door. One bored security guard
watched in mild curiosity. Aidan hung back, leery of his new
“Photo Enemy Number One” status. Maru might have
circulated flyers with Aidan’s face on them.

A classic old Rolls Royce Phantom waited outside the

door. Amazing. Aidan clicked a few snaps of the car’s classic

lines. The wealthy legend owned a forty-year-old Rolls?
Admittedly, the gray car suited its phantomlike, eccentric
owner.

The museum door opened. Jean-Luc swept out, his tall

body clad in a long black wool cloak despite the mild spring
temperature. His silver hair flowed in the light breeze. He
appeared unhappy. A frown deepened his wrinkles.

Waiting seemed futile. Aidan hurried forward and

pushed passed the polite autograph seekers. He came to a

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

9

halt inches from Jean-Luc’s startled face. “Why did you have
me thrown out?”

The same remarkable sorrow shone free. Jean-Luc

shook his head. “Seeing you pains me because it’s too late.
You need to go back to me.”

The security guard brutally yanked Aidan’s left arm. No!

Aidan lunged forward and almost fell on Jean-Luc. He
smelled mint and something medicinal. “What do you
mean?”

Jean-Luc pressed something small and hard into

Aidan’s hand. “Forgive me. I’m sorry for doubting you.” He
stepped back and allowed the two men glaring at Aidan to
secure Jean-Luc into the car’s backseat.

Aidan let the angry security guard drag him back. His

fingers clenched shut around the object. Whispers welled in
his mind, louder, louder until they gained aural focus. What
the—

“You saucy scamp, how did you afford this lovely ring?”
“Despite my display of abject poverty, I do have my

secret ways.”

“I hope those ways never involve physical barter.”
“Monty, gosh, I would never cheat on you. You know I

love you to the moon and beyond.”

“I feel the same, my dear Aidan. Now let me thank you

for this splendid gift.”

A thick Polish accent displaced the faint voices fading

into Aidan’s startled comprehension. Liquid French delivered
in guttural Polish inflection sounded wrong. “What is wrong
with you? Hey, I’m talking to you.”

Aidan stared up at the burly blond security guard

pressing him against the brick wall. The hulk’s voice lowered
into a growl. His hands thumped Aidan’s shoulders into the
wall. “What is wrong with you, asshole? Are you on drugs? I

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

10

want to call the police on you for assaulting that man, but he
said to let you go.”

“No, really, I’m fine. No drugs. Can’t afford them.” Aidan

gasped in pain. “Please stop bouncing my spine into the
building. Please.”

“Go on, get out of here.” The guard shoved Aidan into

the now empty driveway.

Aidan obeyed the gruff order. He staggered to the main

street. The whispery voices teased his awareness. Who was
Monty? A mental slap shook him into awareness. Gee,
perhaps a nickname for Montpluessy? Hearing Monty
address Aidan in such happy devotion shivered his soul.

Wait. Subtle pain radiated from his right fist.
Aidan uncurled his fingers and stared in awe. A silver

ring graced with an oval onyx center and two pearls set in
top-mounted swirls rested in his palm. Jean-Luc had given
him this beautiful ring. The legend had pressed the
expensive jewelry into Aidan’s unsuspecting hand. The
legend had directed the security guard not to harass Aidan.

Jean-Luc’s odd words… damn, what had he said to

Aidan? Aidan struggled past the weird ghostly voices swirling
in his head.

“Seeing you pains me because it’s too late. You need to

go back to me.” Go back? Aidan’s mind asked. Go back to
what, where, when?

One last whimper surged up. How?
Why did Aidan need to go back to Jean-Luc? Great,

another need infected his world. Aidan had read the assorted
rumors regarding Jean-Luc’s closeted relationships.
Cautious Jean-Luc had slid under the radar. Thierry had
claimed the rumors were true. Fine, but if Jean-Luc had
desired Aidan, why throw him out?

The urge to enter a wine bar and drink away this

strange madness tempted Aidan. No. He couldn’t afford the

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

11

extravagance. He needed to find out what Jean-Luc had said
to him. No, not what, but why.

Dizziness struck him. Someone had skipped breakfast

and lunch. No wonder his abused mind dipped and spun in
uncertainty. A visit to the market near his shabby hotel
sounded wise. He hoped that a salmon pate and garlic butter
sandwich remained in the cooler. He loved those nasty
sandwiches. They tasted fine with cheap white wine.

As he walked, his fingers twirled the ring around.

Insistent whispers teased his mind, the sonic threads
wavering in and out in decayed radio-wave weakness. The
voices distressed him. Emotions welled behind the whispers,
strong emotions, somehow familiar to Aidan.

Aidan halted, unlatched the silver chain and threaded

the ring through the links. Much safer. The ring dropped to
his chest. The whispers vanished. He shook his head. “That’s
damned crazy.”

No, it made sense. If the ring touched Aidan’s naked

flesh, the emotions attached to the jewelry attacked his
mind. What, Jean-Luc gave him a haunted ring? Or had the
ring haunted Jean-Luc?

Aidan studied the handsome ring. Placing the ring on

his finger seemed reckless. Aidan didn’t understand why,
but he understood the concept.

Not yet.
He fetched his cheap meal and retreated to his decrepit

room.

“I

KNOW

you cheat on me. Why else do you spend time away

from me?”

“I have never cheated on you, darling. Never.”
“Prove it.”
“I can’t, Monty. I can’t. You need to trust me.”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

12

“Then where do you go? Aidan, you just left me for two

days, yet you ask me to trust you? You ask much of me.”

“Monty, I—please, Monty, if you love me, you need to

trust me beyond reproach.”

Aidan sat up, gasping in dread. Sweat covered his body.

When had his muscles turned into ravines designed to host
tiny raging waterfalls? He sucked in deep breaths, in and
out, in and out.

His fingers fumbled to locate the lamp cord. The small

travel clock showed 4:12. Damn. His eyes widened in horror.
His nocturnal struggles had knocked the ring into his bed.
Or had the strange ring caused the thrashing? The black
onyx rested a mere breath from his shoulder.

He lifted the ring by the chain and hung the links on the

rickety wooden chair’s left spindle. Aidan collapsed into the
lumpy bed and regarded the elaborate water stain soiling the
old ceiling. The shape looked monstrous in the streetlight’s
persistent glow. A profound sense of loss invaded his
thoughts.

Why?
He rested in bed, watching dawn push night from the

sky, his thoughts too tangled to return to sleep. The light
brightened in pearly splendor; 6:09 clicked into life. Wasting
time wondering solved nothing. The urge to investigate the
mystery pushed him from the bed. Visiting Jean-Luc’s
château ruled his mind. The small hamlet’s name was easy
to remember: Saint Montpluessy la Foret.

He wanted to see his photos. Too bad, the drugstore

didn’t open until nine o’clock.

Practicalities came first. Aidan peered into the hallway.

Excellent; no one was using the communal bathroom. He
grabbed his toiletries bag and dashed into the murky room.
He rinsed out the tub for long minutes. Damn, he hated
communal tubs. In truth, a bath wouldn’t wash away last

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

13

night’s weird experience, but at least the warm water
banished his sweat. Aidan decided to scrub everything from
crown to toes.

A rude knock thudded the door. Aidan answered in

English. “Just finishing up!”

The muttered French reply amused Aidan. Hmm, he

never had regarded himself as a water-hogging mermaid.
“Merci!”

Outside the door, the older man scowled at Aidan’s

mocking smile. Aidan patted his shoulder. “Rise and shine,
correct?”

La-da, now he was a young ruffian. Aiden decided he

enjoyed his mermaid tag better.

Back in the room, Aidan packed his meager belongings

into a black carpetbag. He liked the old bag, inherited from
his grandfather. Once he packed the bag, he towel-dried his
hair into dampness.

“Thank you for keeping me safe.” No matter how dumpy

the space, Aidan never departed a hotel room without his
little ritual. Tonight, Aidan wasn’t sure where he’d sleep.
Depending on the time, he might crash in Limoges before
traveling to Saint Montpluessy la Foret.

He placed the chain holding the ring around his neck

and avoided touching the ring. Today he refused to suffer the
weird phantom conversations.

A cup or two of strong coffee and a croissant loomed

next on Aidan’s wish list. Eating while standing at the café’s
coffee bar saved him from tipping a waiter. He had nothing
against waiters, but he always monitored his funds. A tip
might cost Aidan lunch later in the trip.

He needed to see his photos.

“

P

ICKING

up prints for MacLeod?”

“Sorry, they are almost ready. The photo conference

created chaos for us. Give me another hour, okay, monsieur?

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

14

Instead of creating a fuss, Aidan found a bench and

watched the river flow past. A steady breeze wafted through
his damp hair. He resisted the urge to touch the ring. The
force welled in strange insistence. No, he did not feel the ring
pulse. No. Absolutely not. Aidan pushed up from the bench
and paced. Restless activity became his friend.

He returned to the drugstore. The clerk pushed a yellow

envelope containing negatives and prints across the counter.

Aidan glanced through the prints and halted in shock.

No. Impossible. “How is this photo on my film roll?”

The clerk shrugged in dismissal. “It’s number twelve,

the last one. See, the print matches the negative. Looks like
you took a shot of an old photo, eh?”

Twelve had been the last photo Aidan snapped before

the goons had dragged him away. Numb amazement filled
his mind. He recognized the photos before number twelve.
The color photos of Jean-Luc captured great shots of the
legend smiling at the audience. This last photo, this weird
black-and-white photo, showed a man who looked to be—
Aidan stiffened in amazement. The odd black-and-white
photo showed Jean-Luc as a virile, middle-aged man, a
successful man who had just purchased his new Rolls Royce
Phantom. The dashing long black hair, sharp features, and
stubborn chin looked like a duplicate of a photo Aidan had
viewed in a biography. Too bad he had left his Jean-Luc
Montpluessy book collection at Mike’s. Funny how hauling
the book collection across the English Channel and onto the
Paris-bound train had never occurred to Aidan. What a silly
goose.

Aidan’s right pointer finger touched the smiling face.

“Where do you go tonight?”
“Just out for an hour or so.”
“Like two nights ago? When you didn’t return until 3:00

a.m.?”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

15

“Monty, don’t you trust me? Monty? Please, love, talk to

me. Please. Monty!”

Not again! Aidan’s hand jerked away from the photo. He

stepped back and almost stumbled to the tile floor. Damn,
this trip had shattered his composure.

“Monsieur, what is wrong?”
He shot the clerk a tight smile. “Sorry, nothing, I’m just

a little tired.” Aidan nudged the startling black-and-white
photo back into the envelope, using only his fingernail.
Great, now his camera produced haunted photos? Not
exactly haunted, but how could a photo showing Jean-Luc
from many years ago bring on phantom conversations?
Nothing made sense. Jean-Luc had never touched the photo.
Why did the photo channel the whispers?

He examined the ring hanging around his neck. The

urge to grip the silver circle screamed at him. No. Not again,
at least not yet.

Aidan vowed not to touch the ring again until he visited

Jean-Luc’s château. The strange conversational flashes, the
fact that Jean-Luc had given him the ring, this odd photo
mystery started adding up to something impossible,
something beyond Aidan’s comprehension. “You need to go

back to me.”

“You need to go back to me.”
Aidan barely noticed walking toward the museum. He

snapped his fingers. Damn, right, a refund awaited him. The
cash would allow him to continue his odd journey.

The security guards glanced at him in disinterest. At

least the museum hadn’t put up wanted posters featuring
his face. Why bother? Today Jean-Luc didn’t care about
Aidan’s presence in the building. Nor did Aidan care about
the remaining conference. He only cared about solving the
mystery swirling around him.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

16

His fingers drifted toward the ring. Aidan grabbed his

right hand and yanked it down. Next he’d start slapping his
fingers or, better yet, finger wrestling himself. People could
place bets on which hand won the contest.

One guard cocked his head in curiosity. Yes indeed,

Aidan needed to travel south as soon as possible.

He smiled at the young woman behind the registration

desk and read her nametag. “Hello, Nicole, I’m here to
receive a refund? Maru Daniels authorized the money. The
name is Aidan MacLeod.”

“Yes, Monsieur MacLeod, Monsieur Daniels authorized

the refund.” Nicole handed Aidan a white envelope.

Aidan peeked inside and arched his brows. Along with

his badge, far too much money resided inside the envelope.
“I believe there’s a mistake in the amount.”

“No, Monsieur Daniels acted quite specific about the

amount as apology for the mix-up.”

“The mix-up? Right.” Maru wanted to bribe him? Fine.

The money aided his journey. “Hey, any chance there’s a
recording available of Monsieur Montpluessy’s lecture?”

“Not yet. The museum will release the lecture on

cassette but not for another month at best. Monsieur
Montpluessy delivered a marvelous talk.”

Nicole’s ecstatic smile drove a jealous spike into Aidan’s

mind. Nothing like rubbing in his lack of attendance. “If you
don’t mind me asking, what was his mood?”

“Odd you ask that question. More than once Monsieur

Montpluessy apologized for acting distracted. He said his
memory had received a shock just before the lecture.”

Aidan’s mouth dropped open. Yes, Jean-Luc had

received a shock named Aidan. “My, that is odd. Any grand
revelations?”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

17

Nicole shook her head. “No. Of course, the most popular

question concerned his sudden withdrawal from the world.
He still refused to discuss what happened to him.”

This other Aidan had happened to Jean-Luc. Aidan’s

unfaithfulness, or something equally tragic, had derailed
Jean-Luc’s creativity. The event had devastated Jean-Luc. “I
see. Well, thanks for the news.”

Nicole flashed her cheerful smile. “Since you registered

for the conference, we will send you news about the
recording.”

“Thank you.” Aidan somehow doubted if he would care

about the recording in a month’s time. He hated
acknowledging why.

Aidan entered the museum’s extensive bookstore. A

special Montpluessy display showcased many books about
the legend. Aidan pulled out the biography he needed and
flipped through the pages until he gasped in recognition. The
same face captured by his mysterious photo filled the right
page. Montpluessy had been notorious about not posing for
photos. This candid shot showed Jean-Luc smiling at
someone not in the photograph. Bright sun cast dramatic
shadows over his face. His noble Gallic nose imitated a
hawk’s proud beak. Long black hair framed his face in
tousled abandon.

Who did Jean-Luc smile at in the photo? His special

smile displayed total adoration.

Did he smile at this other Aidan?
Aidan shuddered. According to the caption, Hugo

Durand had shot the photo. Wait, Hugo lived in Saint
Montpluessy la Foret?

Urgency welled in Aidan’s chest. His muscles tightened.

Did Hugo Durand still live? Aidan shut the book. Despite
already owning the biography, he decided to make a new
purchase.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

18

Unlike yesterday, today fortune smiled on him. The next

train for Limoges left in a half hour. The trip took a mere
three hours, the train scheduled to arrive in Limoges by
three thirty. With luck, Aidan could reach Saint Montpluessy
la Foret tonight.

Aidan shook his head in bewilderment. Perhaps fortune

had already smiled on him in an extremely baffling manner,
a manner baffling enough to deserve the spooky label.
Rereading Jean-Luc’s biography again sounded wise.

Once onboard the train, he resumed concentrating on

the legend’s life. Conjecture and opinion littered the bio. The
author lazily padded out details too flimsy to verify. As he
read, Aidan remembered not enjoying this particular book.

Gazing at the passing scenery allowed twisted thoughts

to choke his mind. His pinky fingernail poked the onyx.
“What amazing secrets do you hold for me?” A sun glint hit
the window and reflected off the black stone. Aidan’s breath
caught. His hand lowered from the ring in slow
apprehension. Nothing bizarre occurred. For a second Aidan
feared that the ring would conjure up a nasty hallucination.

For once, weariness felt welcome. He shut his eyes and

succumbed to exhaustion.

S

HEEP

. What the hell, how had sheep wandered onto the

train tracks? France offered travelers a superior rail system,
but stupid, wandering sheep trumped efficiency.

Aidan stomped off the train two hours later than

expected. Exhaustion conspired with frustration to haul his
mood into sucking mud. The energy required to locate
transportation into Saint Montpluessy la Foret faded away.
Even seeking an inn late at night daunted him. What if the
inn was full? Come on, most small towns offered other
sleeping arrangements, like a closet-sized guest bedroom or
a rustic sleeping loft over a barn.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

19

Something held him back.
What discouraged him from trying?
Aidan leaned against a wall and sighed. The night

demanded a decision. He played a game with himself. If he
turned the corner and saw a hotel, he would admit defeat
and spend the evening in Limoges. If not, he would research
travel options to Saint Montpluessy la Foret.

He straightened up, walked around the corner, and

shrugged. The Hotel Plumey, two-diamond rating, lurked to
the left. Yes, the path sinister.

There, game over. Aidan walked to the narrow building.

The disinterested clerk offered Aidan an uninspired room for
a swanky sum. The cramped en-suite bathroom inflated the
cost. As Aidan considered the price, he contemplated finding
another place to stay. Why bother? He paid his money,
stowed his carpetbag, and went out to search for dinner.

The small corner market held one remaining salmon

pate and garlic butter sandwich in the refrigerator.
Strawberries supplied a healthy accompaniment to the
sandwich. The cheap bottle of vin blanc would help him fall
asleep.

Instead of retreating to his depressing room, Aidan

walked until he found a compact city park. Watching other
people conduct their normal lives seemed more distracting
than hiding in his lonely room.

The best thing about a prepackaged salmon pate and

garlic butter sandwich was the flavor. His taste buds
understood each bite’s greasy charm.

What did that say about Aidan? He didn’t like

predictability, did he?

According to Robert, Aidan often wallowed in

predictability.

Why had he introduced his last failed romance into the

current mental mess? Imagine, Professor Robert would
applaud Aidan’s radical decision to seek out Jean-Luc.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

20

Robert claimed that Aidan’s impulsive behavior became
predictable. The impulse had never aided Aidan. He always
did something that everyone thought he would do. With
Robert, Aidan did what everyone expected him to do, fail yet
another older lover. Fail a lover, leave a city. Aidan’s
constant romantic disasters had led him from Glasgow to
Manchester to Birmingham to Norfolk and now to his
cousin’s couch in London. Aidan should purchase a United
Kingdom map and trace his brokenhearted trail in blood-red
ink.

Thinking about serious, scholarly Robert needed to stop.

Aidan chewed his sandwich. Chasing after Jean-Luc defined
impulsive predictability. But—Aidan moaned and shook his
head. His stomach urged him to stop fretting and eat. As the
twilight deepened into evening, he nibbled the sweet
strawberries and wondered why he was chasing a fantasy.

Eating prevented his fingers from trying to touch the

demanding ring.

Aidan sat in the quiet park until inky darkness

conquered the sky. The urge to wander to a nearby bar and
enjoy merry, drunken company tickled him for brief seconds.
No. He walked to his hotel and locked the door behind him.
Time for the cheap vin blanc. The small TV displayed rolling
static accompanied by the occasional solid picture. Above all,
the sound alleviated the silence.

Aidan stretched out in bed to sip wine and read Jean-

Luc’s biography. He had never read the remaining chapters.
The writing had irritated him enough to neglect finishing the
book.

This current chapter dwelled on Jean-Luc’s craft. As he

read, Aidan’s vision slowly blurred. Sleep teased him. Before
he set down the book, a name jarred his comprehension. The
startled Aidan read the sentence again. “Aidan Reynolds
often assisted Jean-Luc during shoots in the years directly
before Jean-Luc retired from photography. The young

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

21

Scottish lighting technician had developed a special filter
technique which enhanced Jean-Luc’s portraiture.”

Aidan. The mysterious other Aidan had helped Jean-

Luc?

The bed swayed under him. Aidan gasped in alarm.

What happened? Nothing else in the small room moved.
Just—

The weird sensation died away.
He reached for his wine. The ring slammed against his

naked bicep. His muscle spasmed. A familiar phantom voice
eclipsed the sound of the glass breaking against the wooden
floor.

“I can’t prove anything to you, Monty, not if you refuse to

listen. Monty, don’t walk away. Monty!”

Not again! Why hadn’t he removed the chain before he

relaxed to read? The ring forced him to keep the thing close
like a possessed horror-movie trinket.

Desperation and sorrow cursed this ring.
Aidan rolled from the bed. He avoided stepping on the

broken glass. Logic demanded draping the chain on the
room’s doorknob. No more phantom voices, not tonight.

Damn, cleaning up the broken glass eroded his

sleepiness. He drank wine from the bottle. Off came his T-
shirt and jeans. The narrow bed cradled him.

Imagine, Aidan Reynolds had been Scottish. Madness.
Aidan’s mother’s maiden name had been Reynolds.
What a bizarre puzzle piece.
Enough. The world needed to drop back and leave him

alone. Aidan tried to shut down his thoughts. He pushed
aside the specters waiting to attack his awareness. The

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

22

mental stone portal slid over until any ugly memories
remained locked on the other side. They clamored to enter.

No more. Not tonight.
Tonight the ring’s influence couldn’t attack him. If Aidan

woke and discovered the ring in his bed, he’d locate the
nearest mental hospital and check in. Bad enough his mind
already struggled against creeping lunacy.

Despite his resolve, Aidan hovered between wakefulness

and sleep. The stone portal slipped and admitted noxious
emotions. He imagined himself pressing against the stone
door, applying every pound of mental pressure to preserve
deep sleep.

Memories of his family drifted through the crack. He

accepted he’d never see his father and sisters again. Unless
the sweet, gentle woman started haunting him, Aidan would
also never see his mother again. No, in life, his mother never
had acted cruel. Death hardly warped her kind nature. His
narrow-minded sisters had shunned him. Aidan might see
his father again if the gruff guard made good on his violent
promise to hunt down Aidan for his “sick perversity.”

Dark personal strains mixed with the weird Monty-

Aidan strands and sent shivers through his body.

His exhausted mind finally succumbed to sleep.
Remembrances streaked through Aidan’s troubled sleep,

memories he had never created. Pain and sorrow dominated
them. What had happened between Monty and the other
Aidan? Why did doubt and mistrust torment them?

In the early morning, Aidan blinked against the sun’s

intrusion. The thin, yellowed lace insert did nothing to shade
the dirty window. Bleak despair disrupted his mind. The
emotion paralyzed his body. His arms and legs refused to
move.

Aidan recognized a serious depression’s onset. Damn,

the last time Aidan had suffered a depression this intense

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

23

occurred when Robert denounced Aidan. Why did depression
attack him today?

He forced his arm to move. The limb obeyed in aching

tension.

When depression this severe consumed Aidan’s mind,

huddling in bed supplied the only sensible solution. He
managed to rise to shut the dark-blue drape over the lace
insert. Forcing his legs to shuffle him into the tiny water
closet turned into special torment.

He choked down three aspirin for the aching muscle

tension and slid back between the sheets.

His adventure to find Jean-Luc had to wait until he

conquered this depression.

The spring day passed without him. Aidan alternated

between shutting his eyes and numbly staring at the little
TV. The TV preferred daylight; the picture remained
unblinking. He listened to news but absorbed nothing. When
Aidan rolled away to curl in pain, he thought he heard Jean-
Luc Montpluessy’s name. Great, now he suffered waking
hallucinations. How inventive. What next, a news story
describing Aidan Reynolds’s special light technique?

Late afternoon granted Aidan the will to push up from

his bed. Steady aspirin consumption had defeated the
twisting pain dominating his arms and legs. Hunger fluttered
in his belly, always a positive sign.

Splashing water over his torso substituted for a shower.

Aidan’s long blond hair had suffered from his prolonged bed
stay. He brushed the mess into something less resembling a
battered dust mop. No need for him to look like an accident
victim although inside a twenty-car pileup had slammed into
his heart. Imaginary ambulances careened forward to help.
He let the sick, messy fantasy continue inside him.

Experience had taught him to prevent the outside world

from viewing his wretched inner turmoil.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

24

Aidan returned to the market. One salmon pate

sandwich waited for him. Or did the store only stock one?
More fresh strawberries enticed him. He added a banana for
variety.

Before he took his sad purchases to the register, Aidan

debated over purchasing wine until he reasoned the wine
hadn’t caused his strange problems.

Not at all.
Passing the evening in a semi-coherent condition suited

Aidan. Tonight the TV maintained solid reception. Watching
droll comedies on the BBC diverted his mood from rank
sadness.

Aidan saluted the ring and ignored its strong siren call.

Time to shut down and hope that tomorrow defeated this
current malaise.

The next morning supplied more bright spring sun. The

sunny conditions captured the opposite of Aidan’s continued
mood. Shadowy bleakness still stained his thoughts, but at
least the new day allowed him unencumbered movement.

What had triggered yesterday’s depression fit? Did

drawing close to something beyond his understanding
overwhelm his emotions? Did worry over what would happen
if he saw Jean-Luc again defeat him?

Aidan didn’t understand what had twisted him into a

persistent dark mood. This morning’s excellent coffee and
tasty almond croissant did little to change his lowered
spirits. Too much worrying over other types of spirits
weighed him down.

He faced a question that demanded an answer: What

did he plan to do at Jean-Luc’s château? Knock on the front
door and say howdy? He could use the ring as an excuse.
Yes, oh by the way, want this ring back, sir?

Instead of fretting over uncontrollable details, Aidan

finished his croissant and researched his travel options.
Rush-hour activity filled the train station. The information

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

25

desk offered a better option than waiting for a busy ticket
seller. Did anyone work at the desk?

Aidan leaned on the desk and jerked back when a short

old man popped up from rummaging through brochures.
“Pardon, monsieur. May I help you?”

“Yes. What’s the easiest way to reach Saint Montpluessy

la Foret?”

“There is a bus, but it only runs every other day. Today

is not a bus day. Your best bet is to hitch a ride with a
trucker.”

“Really? That’s my best bet?”
The man shrugged. Aiden realized the man’s

examination had taken in Aidan’s battered leather jacket,
thin black T-shirt, and ripped jeans and passed financial
judgment. “Let me say it is your cheapest bet. There is a car
rental service three blocks down Rue Grande but their prices
are outrageous.”

“I see. Well, thank you for the advice.” Aidan smiled.

Damn, sounded like Maru’s bribe came to the rescue.
Hitching a ride with a rough trucker did not appeal to him.
He had already learned a painful lesson about trusting
truckers.

An hour later, Aidan tossed his carpetbag into the small

black rented Peugeot and studied his map. The information
pixie had spoken the truth; the rental price seemed more like
a ransom. The clerk refused to book the car for less than
three days. What an insolent ass. The sneering annoyance
belonged in Paris abusing clueless tourists who equated
talking louder with understanding.

His finger tapped the map. Saint Montpluessy la Foret

sat to the southeast. As long as Aidan refrained from getting
lost and driving in circles, a stunt he excelled at, he should
arrive in under two hours.

When he started the car, the vehicle stalled. Great, the

insolent ass had rented him a piece of junk. He tried again.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

26

The car responded by shuddering, backfiring, and

revving. What a dramatic performance, almost worthy of a
Palme d’Or. Aidan considered stalking to the office and
demanding another car. No. Any further delay pissed off his
psyche.

He forced the car into motion and prayed that the

cranky piece of metallic shit would haul him to his
destination.

Traveling through the sunlit forest lifted his lingering

sorrow. The flawless day demanded smiles and greetings.
Aidan waved at two youngsters playing soccer in their front
yard, an elderly woman collecting her mail, and a man
leading a horse down a narrow country road. Everyone
waved and acknowledged his existence. The simple acts
brightened his mood.

He turned right at an old stone marker and descended a

steep hill. The road curved. At the foot of the hill, a honey-
stoned village filled his vision. The sun forced every old detail
into stark relief. The dazzling light lent a magical glow to the
small village. The imposing château brooded on a hillside
above the quaint village. Sun glinted off the narrow
diamond-paned windows gracing the tall right tower.

Aidan choked in recognition. He had never seen Jean-

Luc’s family château from this angle, but recognition flooded
his mind.

Why?
Aidan guided the backfiring car into the compact village

square and parked. Pedestrians stared in amusement. The
engine ticked in explosive intent.

Aidan grabbed his bag and walked away before the

wretched vehicle exploded. He stopped and studied the old
buildings sprawled before him. Odd; black bunting lined the
few storefronts.

Fresh bleakness almost shoved him into the sputtering

village fountain. Aidan’s left hand clutched the warm stone
edge. He shook his head. What now? He glared up at the

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

27

eroded cupid aiming at the sun’s majesty. Someone had
wrapped black drapery around the statue’s stylized body.

Why? What did the black bunting mean?
Before he gate-crashed the château, Aidan wanted a

bath. Post offices often supplied quick tourist information.
He impatiently waited in line until the mustachioed clerk
nodded at him. “Sorry to bother you, but where’s a cheap
place to stay?”

“Everything in town is booked unless you know

someone.” The clerk regarded Aidan in curious interest. “Are
you family?”

“I don’t understand. Family?”
“You’re not here for this afternoon’s funeral?”
Why did the clerk insist on playing twenty questions

with him? “What funeral?”

Aidan’s sharp tone provoked the clerk. “Why, Jean-Luc

Montpluessy’s funeral. The great man passed away two days
ago. His passing has devastated everyone.”

Horror gripped Aidan. Jean-Luc had passed away

during Aiden’s first night in Limoges? The event explained
the next day’s depression. The small space lurched in manic
tilt. Aidan’s left fingers gripped the worn wooden counter. He
tried to gasp for help but sorrow conquered his voice. His
bag smacked the floor. His right hand grasped the chain
around his neck and slid to hold the cold ring.

He fell into phantom voices.

“Dearest, why didn’t you tell me this news sooner?”
“Monty, my love, telling you now is dangerous.”
“You great fool!”

“Monsieur? Hello?”
Light slaps hit Aidan’s cheeks. Aidan’s hands pushed

away the cool fingers. He lunged up from the floor. “Jean-
Luc is dead?”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

28

The clerk nodded. “As I said, two days ago. His poor

heart has been sick for ages.”

Aidan stared in mad confusion. The words hammered

his hearing. “Sick heart?”

Fingers waved at the clerk’s narrow chest. “The poor

man had suffered three serious attacks. It’s a miracle he
lived this long.”

“Seeing you pains me because it’s too late. You need to

go back to me.”

Aidan choked in disbelief. Two days ago.
Concern flooded the clerk’s features. “Monsieur, are

you—”

“Fine, I am fine.” What a liar. Aidan scrambled upright,

grabbed his bag, and raced out the door. He fell into the
sulky Peugeot. This time the car started on command. He
careened from his parking space and almost hit a white work
van entering the small square.

Angry honking ensued until Aidan sped away from the

village.

One ugly word spun through his tormented mind. Dead.

Dead. Dead.

“Seeing you pains me because it’s too late. You need to

go back to me.”

Jean-Luc knew he was dying. He fucking felt his death

approach!

Aidan’s palms hammered the steering wheel. The car

swerved up the hill. “You knew you were dying! How can I
come back to you if you are dead? You—how could you….”
Shaking his head, Aidan wrenched the steering wheel to the
right. The car careened down a narrow dirt road, skidded,
and stopped inches before metal met an ancient beech
trunk. Aidan’s harsh breathing accompanied the car’s loud
engine ticks.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

29

His heart constricted in agony. Jean-Luc was dead? Dry

heaving sobs shook his body.

Wait.
The ring.
The funeral. Jean-Luc’s funeral happened this

afternoon.

Shocked enlightenment flooded Aidan’s thoughts. The

sensation galvanized him into determined calmness. He
realized what he needed to do. He needed to react before
Jean-Luc’s funeral took place.

Aidan sucked in a centering breath. Sweet birdsong

resumed in the forest. Beyond the windshield, the beech
bark created a puzzling map. No need, now Aiden
understood his fierce new direction. He turned the car
around toward the town. The strange idea he had swatted
away during his drive now cuddled up front and center. The
damned ring. The ring would guide him to the truth.

He maneuvered the Peugeot behind the village, higher

into the ancient forest surrounding the château. He parked
the car on a grassy plot. There, he looked down at the
sprawling stone mass. Activity swarmed around the château.
“You knew. Now I know.”

Wait, what about Hugo Durand? What about logical

planning? What about finding out details before Aidan
lunged into impossible desperation?

If Aidan failed, perhaps he’d try plan B.
Face it, Aidan understood that if he failed, he’d fall into

a twilight depression beyond comprehension. Failure
doomed him to suffering. The ugly truth whispered to him in
cruel coldness.

Today supplied his best chance to save a grand

romance. Aidan’s chance to heal a rupture so profound the
act had torn an artist from his muse waited below. Jean-
Luc’s muse had sought refuge in another soul.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

30

Aidan. Jean-Luc’s muse. Any man who deserved such a

loving smile from the master had impacted Jean-Luc’s work
aside from creating unique lighting tricks.

Jean-Luc’s Scottish muse.
Aidan Reynolds, a man who must have died.
Nothing else made sense. What else would have driven

Jean-Luc to cease photography? He had lost his muse
forever.

A modern chain-link fence, the metal looking quite new,

barred entrance to the château’s grounds. Beyond the fence,
a waist-high stone wall showed the previous mode of casual
protection.

Aidan rolled the emotional dice and grinned in ferocious

challenge. Game on.

Digging a hole between an oak tree’s twisting roots took

little time. The dry, loamy soil parted in ease. The curved
roots reminded Aidan of grasping tentacles wrenching free
from earthly bondage. He pulled out the biography and the
strange black-and -white photo and pushed the carpetbag in
the ditch.

He hoped he’d never need the bag again. “Farewell, my

trusty Nikon.” He saluted his camera and shoved soil over
the bag.

Aidan opened the bio to the special picture and placed

his black and white photo across from the image. He
concentrated on Jean-Luc’s adoring smile until his nerve
endings tingled from the thought of basking in the warm
expression.

Deep breath.
He needed to move now. Aidan kicked off his shoes.

Next he yanked off his T-shirt. He shimmed off his jeans and
underwear and folded the garments over the roots. Nothing
modern should taint his body. He hoped the four silver
fillings in his molars didn’t ruin the moment.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

31

Aidan squatted and pulled the ring free from the pocket

of his abandoned jeans.

The chain hit his jeans.
The ring slid onto his finger.
The world lurched and swirled, tilting like before, only

this time Aidan understood what to expect. Around him the
tall beeches, oaks, and pines danced in primeval sway.
Something wrenched the air, rippled, then tore. Aidan stood
and walked forward.

The chain link fence quivered into nothingness.
The sight made him gasp, but he didn’t hesitate. Aidan

stepped into the same sun-dappled forest and crawled over
the wall. He turned and glanced back.

The Peugeot had vanished.
At least he didn’t turn into a pillar of salt for looking

back. The ring tightened on his finger. The cool silver urged
him on. Aidan ran forward into the forest, ignoring the pain
generated from sharp rocks assaulting his bare soles. He ran
downward, wincing when a low beech tree branch slapped
his cock.

He stopped and balanced backward mere inches from

plunging over a bush-obscured cliff. Fear sweat coated his
flesh.

A gaping stone ravine halted his progress. Thirty feet

below, a deep stream sparkled in the sun. Wait, a narrow
gray stone bridge, the structure designed more like an
ancient aqueduct, crossed the rocky vastness. Aidan sucked
in a breath. No other way around the physical problem
existed. He banished his irrational fear of heights and
dropped to his knees.

Heroes in movies ran across dangerous nuisance

bridges in daring speed. Not Aidan, not in any decade. The
crawl across punished Aidan in too many ways. Humiliation
needled him. His cock hated brushing against the rough old

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

32

stone. He tried shielding it, but fear compelled him to use
both hands to crawl across the semi-ruined span.

The ancient bridge’s other end plunged into a pink rose

bush tangle. What a pretty yet painful conclusion.

Aidan decided love conquered all.
This time Aidan’s right hand protected his cock. His left

arm guided the way through the wild bushes. The tiny pink
roses smelled delicious. The endless small, sharp thorns
supplied an opposite experience. Aidan emerged from the
roses’ grasp bleeding, battered, and ready to faint. Blood and
sweat mingled across his stinging flesh. At least no one
stopped him.

A hole in the rough lower lawn trapped his right foot

and sent him to his knees. A small rock drove into his right
palm.

At this rate, the gasping Aidan wondered if he would

reach the château alive. Why did nature seem determined to
stop him? Was it because Aidan attempted to defeat nature,
defeat time?

He crawled forward into an exotic topiary garden. He

recognized the fascinating place. A vivid memory of lying on
a blanket with Jean-Luc erupted into his thoughts. Aidan
blinked in awe. A spiral yew topiary’s manicured branches
helped him stand. He limped along before another
ornamental topiary decided to fall on him. The yew topiary
cut into triangles looked menacing enough to attempt to stop
him.

He halted and clung to another branch. Realization

screamed forward. His 1978 memories started slipping from
their logical moorings, like neglected rowboats drifting away
from a rotting dock. Other memories slithered forward. Aidan
didn’t fight the sensation. He didn’t need to fight; he needed
to disengage from 1978. Disengagement from 1978
guaranteed a solid connection to Jean-Luc.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

33

His primitive self-awareness struggled against the

transformation. He swatted aside any misgivings. He
accepted. Each staggering step forward turned into a step
back from his 1978 mentality.

The stunning life-reset felt oddly liberating. As his 1978

awareness drifted further away, Aidan vowed not to ruin his
blessed new relationship.

He staggered up to the sunny terrace and fell to his

knees again. Too much searing pain raked his flesh. He
peered through the sweat flooding his face and blinked in
awe. He recognized the terrace.

He collapsed onto the terrace where long ago Jean-Luc

had smiled in adoration. Long ago? Not that long at all. Why
did he feel such a distance from an event that had happened
mere months ago?

A light breeze teased his bloodied back.
Footsteps paced across the stone. Doting fingers traced

his spine.

“You came back to me.” Gratitude and awe filled the

familiar voice.

Aidan summoned the strength to look up into Jean-

Luc’s intelligent visage. Today no smile arrived, but Jean-
Luc’s love shone in his eyes.

His heart tightened in wonder. “You didn’t make the

journey easy.”

Fingers lifted Aidan’s hand to full, warm lips. “I am

sorry we fought. When you left on your mission two nights
ago, I prayed you would come back. I feared the Germans
had stolen you from me for good. I didn’t know what to do.”

Jean-Luc’s passionate finger kiss released fond

memories into Aidan’s mind. He had been kissed by Jean-
Luc many times before now. Jean-Luc loved to kiss. “But you
know—hell, I’m—but am I?” His last 1978 memory rowboats
faded into the mist. His words snarled in confusion. “I am. I
came back to you.”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

34

“Love is a strange, willful force. I believe I angered divine

love by doubting you.”

“But—this is—damn, you thought I cheated on you.

Why? Why would I insult our perfect love?”

“I am the one who insulted our love by not trusting

you.”

Yes, Jean-Luc had insulted their love. “Now you realize

you may trust me, no matter what.”

“I shall always trust you, dearest. My, my, look at you.

What an appalling mess.” Jean-Luc shook his head in
distress. “I appreciate your impulsive display of devotion, but
your naked sacrifice is unsettling. You’re hurt.”

“I hurt more at finding the front gate locked. I took the

back entrance.” Why did the thought feel odd?

“Why didn’t you ring the bell?”
“Shock value?” Yes, why had Aidan crawled from the

back? What madness drove him?

“You are an evil love. This week I keep the gate locked

since I fear violation from certain violent factions. I know
they hate me. Art owns no place in their sorry lives.” Jean-
Luc slid the silver ring from Aidan’s finger. “Ah, at least now
I know where my ring vanished to two nights ago.”

“I wore your ring for luck. I promise you I no longer

work for the Résistance. I can’t since I fear for you. If the
Germans catch me, they will persecute you. Gosh, my
conscience would never survive the trauma.” Aidan blinked
in surprise.

Another odd shift made him moan.
“My poor dearest, let’s take you upstairs to clean these

scratches. Only you would wrestle with rose bushes. Did you
actually scale the old Roman bridge?” As he spoke, Jean-Luc
removed his white cotton shirt and aided Aidan in pulling on
the garment.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

35

“I crawled across the stone in abject terror.” Red

blotches blossomed against the material. “Dear Monty, I am
ruining your shirt.”

“Who cares? Aidan, ruin what you will, well, wait, don’t

go too far.” He laughed. “After we clean you up, how about
you ruin our silk sheets?”

“I accept the offer, Monty.”
The pair stepped into the château’s cool interior.

Servants peered from corridors but left them alone.

Aidan leaned into Monty’s support and gazed around

the splendid interior. He smiled in relief. Gosh, he had
returned home. He never intended to leave this sanctuary
again. “We have acted like such great fools.”

Monty’s thin fingers gripped Aidan’s arm. “No longer.

Are you sure you can give up your noble cause?’

“Positive. I never excelled at the task. My impulsive

nature almost ruined a few missions. Certain people will be
glad to see me vanish.”

“Unlike me. I want you with me always.” Monty escorted

Aidan into the airy master suite in the tower. Pale blue and
peach dominated the room. Monty’s art deco furniture added
to the room’s high style. Sweet spring air flowed in through
the open diamond-paned windows.

Aidan sank into the huge old tub, stripped off the

bloodied shirt, and let Monty sluice warm water across his
bleeding skin. Aidan tried not to wince.

His lover sensed Aidan’s pain “I’m sorry, my dearest, do

I hurt you?”

“I don’t think you can ever hurt me now.”
Monty’s concerned expression transformed into bliss. He

leaned forward. Their kiss offered Aidan sublime
contentment beyond reason. Aidan relaxed into reality.

Another shimmer tilted the room. Aidan blinked and

shook his head.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

36

“Are you well, dearest?”
“I am now that I have returned to you.” Aidan realized

his words captured eternal truth. He reached up and stroked
Monty’s cheek.

A devoted kiss attacked Aidan’s wet palm. “You can’t

imagine how much your words thrill me. My dearest, now
that I have you to myself, I have such plans. Due to this ugly
atmosphere of fear and hatred, I hesitate to travel too far
from our château. Instead, I want to use the wonderful
grounds as backdrops for your splendid body. You know how
I always threaten to immortalize you. Now is the time. Will
you accept being my muse?”

Another brief confusion pang faded away. “Always, my

Monty. I am willing to be your muse until the end of time.”

Their next kiss almost bruised Aidan’s lips. “It’s time to

ruin your sheets.”

“Are you sure you want to endure physical intimacy?

Perhaps a longer soak is required.”

“A longer soak can wait until later. I need you now,

Monty.”

Why bother drying off? Aidan stepped from the tub. Pink

water drained off his stinging flesh.

Monty tossed away his tweed trousers and boxers.

Aidan stopped his lover from entering their bed. His
admiring gaze roamed across the slim, athletic body kept fit
from tennis matches and swimming in the small indoor pool.

“What’s wrong? Have I grown another cock?” Monty

stared down at his body. “You look at me like you have never
seen a naked man before now. Are you sure you didn’t fall
and hit your head?”

“If I did hit my head, I knocked sense into my thick

Scottish skull.”

“Dearest, making up after our last fight sounds

luscious. I am ready for your charms.”

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

37

Their bodies hit the sheets. Pain tried to disrupt Aidan’s

lust. He ordered the problem to step back. Not now, not
when Monty cuddled close. They rolled around in mad
passion. Aidan wondered what was bothering him until
Monty spread his slim legs and smiled in devilish desire.

Monty’s fingers held out the lube. “Naughty boy, you

haven’t filled me in a week. Time to correct the silly
problem.”

Monty bottomed for Aidan?
Of course he did. When the mood struck, they switched

positions, but Monty’s love for a hard ride topped their sex
life. Instead of accepting the lube, Aidan rubbed his
scratched chest against Monty’s black chest hair. He gasped
in pain. “There, consider this as my penitence. Your hair
shirt lashes my bleeding flesh.”

“Did your last mission involve a theater troupe? You act

quite dramatic today.” Monty pressed fingers against his own
lips in dismay. “Forgive me for asking such an insensitive
question.”

“Save the question for later.” Aidan arched into Monty’s

slow, sexy lube application. His lover touched Aidan’s cock
in seductive skill until he feared he might come in Monty’s
warm palm. “Forgive me, Monty, I need you now.”

“Come and reclaim your territory.”
Aidan slid in and moaned in pleasure. This was where

he belonged, pleasuring his lover. The world knew Jean-Luc
Montpluessy as a suave, distinguished artist. Aidan knew
his mentor as a physical, exceedingly sensual devotee to
fuckery. Despite the constant pain needling his injured flesh,
Aidan sped up for his Monty. They grunted in fine wrestling
style. Their down and dirty sex didn’t deserve to be
immortalized for the ages, but Aidan decided he needed to
explore Monty’s hot depths every other hour. They needed to
make up for the many arguments and spats.

They needed to make up for lost time.

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

38

The lovers tangled in panting satisfaction. Aidan leaned

into Monty’s devoted cheek stroke.

“Dearest, might I say welcome back? I swear you wanted

to plow through me and break a mattress spring.”

“Consider my ardor a welcome-back attack.”
“Excellent. Oooh, you’re still bleeding. You do intend to

ruin the sheets.”

“I vow never to ruin our relationship.”
“Good.” Aidan succumbed to Monty’s searching kiss

until his lover drew back and frowned in curiosity. “There’s
something different about you today, dearest. I must say, I
like the change. Giving up your brave works makes you less
tense.” Monty patted Aidan’s cheek. “I hate to say this,
dearest, but your temperament suits a lover, not a fighter.”

“I agree. Now I accept that you come first in my life.”

Something hazy about a photo and a sad funeral flickered
through Aidan’s mind. He must have hit his head. Strange
concepts nagged at him. “Did someone recently die in the
village?”

Monty blinked in confusion. “What a bizarre thing to

ask. No. Why?”

“I don’t know. I received a strange—premonition of

death.”

“The damned German occupation ruins everything.”

Monty cleared this throat. “I didn’t want to tell you this, but
when you left on your last mission, I experienced the awful
sensation that I had lost you for all time. I cried for hours
until I collapsed in grief.”

The admission saddened Aidan. “Well, here I am, my

sweet Monty, alive and whole, well, battered but filled with
love for you.”

“What happened to you two nights ago? When you

refused to tell me about your mission, I am ashamed at how

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

39

I lost my temper. My anger over you not telling me about
your dangerous Résistance efforts still irked me.”

What had happened? Aidan vaguely remembered trying

to help a Jewish couple escape Limoges. He remembered
gunshots. Then he remembered nothing. Odd blankness
claimed his memory. He definitely remembered something
dreadful about Limoges.

Prodding the memory ached like a rotten tooth. Why?

Monty regarded him in expectation. His lover deserved some
explanation. “We helped a Jewish couple. Damn, maybe I did
fall and hurt my head. An abnormal memory gap fights me.
The next thing I seem to remember is scrambling through
the forest toward home.”

He stared at Monty in bewilderment until he touched

the elegant ring. “This will sound really strange, but I think
your ring aided me. I have no idea why or how. Isn’t that
peculiar?”

“You gave me this ring in pure love, so perhaps the gem

did assist you. I know I sound selfish but somehow I feel I
have you back now. You are safe with me.”

“I’m always safe with you. Gosh, Monty, I can’t wait to

inspire your new photos. Your splendid imagery will conquer
the world.”

“Thank you, dearest, for your confidence in me.”
Another kiss banished any lingering doubts and sorrow

from Aidan’s thoughts. He pushed away the memory gap and
grinned in determination. “I am starving. I don’t remember
when I last ate. Cook needs to prepare a salmon pate and
garlic butter sandwich for me.”

“You barbarian, why do you like those awful things? I

blame your Scottish heritage. Any country that considers
haggis a meal is deranged. At least I trained your palate to
appreciate French cuisine.” Monty stroked Aidan’s cheek.
“You need a shave. But that event can wait until later. Before
we visit the kitchen, let me apply witch hazel to your

Love in Focus * S.A. Garcia

40

scratches. Dearest, next time you decide to wrestle a rose
thicket, step back and think first.”

“I agree, sir.” Aidan perched on a bathroom stool.

Monty’s gentle touch against his skin still made him wince.
“Will you kiss each scratch better?”

“Perhaps later. There, you have ceased oozing.” The men

donned robes and departed from the bedroom. Monty
grasped Aidan’s hand. “I am glad we are one again, dearest.”

Aidan pressed a kiss to Monty’s smooth temple. “Lover, I

couldn’t agree more.” They paused and kissed in renewed
ardor. Fingers massaged scalps. Monty’s ring caught in
Aidan’s long hair.

One last shimmer bound them for eternity.

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About the Author

S.A.

G

ARCIA

can never decide between red or white. Nor can

she decide between creating visual art or word art, so over
the decades a career in visual design, music journalism, and
technical writing blossomed. Ten years of running an indie
music magazine certainly provided plenty of wild characters
and curious situations for fiction.
Even when traveling to interview bands, writing fiction
always percolated in the background, and writing male
romantic fiction ruled above all. Reading Gordon Merrick at
age nineteen sounded a wonderful wake-up call. There’s
thirty years of male/male romance hidden away in her
notebooks and on the computer. Now it is time to release the
stories into the free air.
When not obsessing over different ways to describe romantic
encounters, S.A. enjoys cooking for her beloved of twenty-five
years; she endures the endless experiments with grace.
Gardening, traveling, arguing politics, and teaching the
house bunnies new tricks provide more fun. Unfortunately
the furry furies refuse to learn how to type.

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Copyright

Love in Focus ©Copyright S.A. Garcia, 2012

Published by
Dreamspinner Press
4760 Preston Road
Suite 244-149
Frisco, TX 75034

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the
authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art by Catt Ford

This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is
illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon
conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No
part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the Publisher. To
request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press at: 4760 Preston Road, Suite
244-149, Frisco, TX 75034

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Released in the United States of America
June 2012

eBook Edition
eBook ISBN: 978-1-61372-635-8