“Ah, and here are my early birds…” She looked at them fondly, wishing she’d had more sons. She poured glossy frothed milk into her first cup of cappuccino of the day.
Fabrice came to stand next to her. “Juliette, you like chocolate…”
“Of course.”
“May I show you something beautiful?”
“With my cappuccino?”
With a proud flourish he squirted two fine circles of chocolate sauce onto the milk froth and then grabbed a toothpick and made a few quick movements. He placed the cup in front of her, and she was delighted to see a picture of a gondola in the foam.
“Oh! Pierre is not the only one of you boys with artistic talent! It is almost too beautiful to drink!”
Fabrice looked pleased. Vincenzo arrived in the kitchen, looking well rested, and happy to join his friends. She offered him her cheek and he kissed it.
“Buongiorno, Mama. Did you sleep well?”
She took a satisfying sip of cappuccino and nodded, smiling. “Sì, sì.”
Having already cut holes out of thick slices of fresh country bread, she took them to an over-sized cast iron pan she’d been preheating. “Go on, sit boys.” She pointed to the breakfast bar on the other side of the kitchen fireplace. “Start your day with strength and happy stomachs.”
She drizzled a bit of olive oil in the pan, arranged the bread slices as the oil began to sizzle, and then neatly cracked an egg into each hole.
Fabrice stayed close and leaned over the pan. “What are you making?”
“Nido d'uovo.”
“Egg’s nest?”
“Sì.” Juliette used a fork to add a bit of roasted red pepper on top of each bubbling egg, and then sprinkled sea salt across the whole pan from up high, looking just like a chef.
“It smells incredible!” Robert said as he carried espressos for each of them to the table.
Auguste came close to her holding a plate, and she pinched his cheek lightly. “You will like it because it is fried.”
“We’ll like it because you made it,” Fabrice countered sweetly.
“I’ll have two,” Robert called.
“Oh, then you would just want to nap.” She waved her audience away from the stove.
“What are you baking?” Fabrice asked.
“Nothing for you boys. Those are scones for the girls.”
“Good morning all,” Henri said, appearing in the doorway. “Got any espresso for me?” The twins guarded their cups and pointed to the pot on the stove.
“Do not worry. There is another pot ready to brew.”
Auguste asked, “Now why is this espresso so amazing? What did you do to it?”
“It is Passero’s…the best. I import it from Philadelphia in America. I take it everywhere with me.”
“It’s incredible!”
“So, what have you boys planned for today?” Juliette asked.
“We’re going fishing,” they all replied in unison.
“On the lake at the far end of the property?” She expertly flipped the frying toasts.
“Sì. We’re going to catch some bass for dinner,” Vincenzo said.
“And if they aren’t biting, we’ll go for a swim.” Henri attempted to get espresso from the empty pot.
“Just be careful. That old rope swing and diving platform should be taken down.”
“Don’t worry, Mama,” Vincenzo assured her while he set the fresh pot of espresso to percolate on the stove.
“We will build new swimming features for the lake when you start giving me grandchildren to play there.” She raised her spatula and declared, “Okay, mangiare.”
They all grabbed plates and formed a line at the stove where she served them.
“Do you want a bit of grated Parmesan?”
When they nodded enthusiastically, she topped each egg with a snow shower of rich cheese.
The boys had finished eating by the time the women came sauntering down dressed in riding clothes. Juliette served them their usual egg whites with basil, and freshly baked scones with jam. They’d been eating the same thing on weekends since they were in high school.
Juliette was dictating letters to her secretary, Ippy, when Markus arrived.
Taking a quick pause to get him some breakfast, she got up and gestured for him to sit.
“Markus, come sit by me, dear. Do you like coffee and eggs?”
“I do, thank you.” He sat and turned to Ippy. “Bonjour.”
Ippy smiled. “Bonjour.”
“So, have you been Juliette’s secretary long?”
“I’ve been with her for almost ten years, since just out of school.”
“You have an unusual name.”
“Short for Ipanema. My father always wanted to live there.” She handed a napkin and fork to him.
Everyone was in the spirit of carefree childhood holidays. The boys were packing lunches to take on their fishing trip, and the girls were finishing their breakfast. Juliette could tell from his eyes that Markus hadn’t slept. She placed a cappuccino in front of him and moved back to the stove to whip up a quick meal for him. While continuing to give rapid dictation in Italian to Ippy, she brought him eggs, a scone, butter, jam, juice, and water. Smiling down at him, she pinched his cheek.
“There now, Markus, eat, my dear.”
Having accomplished a successful breakfast, she removed her apron and sat down to enjoy a second cappuccino before setting off for her own plans for the day. She was excited to be visiting her friend Daniel and his fellow monks about an hour away at Abbaye d’Orval. Each time she came to the château, she loved to spend a day at the Abbaye because they had the most delicate preserves she’d ever tasted. If she hurried, she could be in their cellars before noon, and she liked to take her time finding just the right treats to ship back to Venice.
“Mama, you are going to see the monks today?” Vincenzo asked as he packed a final sandwich in the picnic basket.
“Sì.”
As the two groups headed out for their activities, Vincenzo swooped in among the girls and hugged Giselle.
“Have fun riding.” He kissed the corner of her mouth and chuckled, “Mmm! Strawberry!”
Giselle laughed and wiped at the jam on her mouth. “Try to bring us enough fish for dinner.”
Juliette watched as Vincenzo swung Giselle into a dramatic dip, and then quickly glanced over at Markus. She didn’t miss the look Vincenzo shot him, or that Markus seemed pained. Vincenzo’s brows were knit as he looked from Markus to Giselle, who was laughing in his arms.
“Markus,” Vincenzo said, “are you coming fishing with the boys?” Giselle pried herself from his arms and followed Fauve out the door. Markus swallowed a mouthful of eggs and looked at his plate.
“No. Today I will write to friends back home, and work to repair a sculpture that was broken.”
Vincenzo gave him a long look. “You don’t need to avoid us.”
“I know.”
Vincenzo nodded and headed outside to join the others.
Juliette took the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity. “So Markus, how long will you be here helping Giselle?”
“I do not know.”
“You seem free with your time. You have no commitments elsewhere?”
“No, no other commitments right now.”
“You live in Paris?”
“I do.”
“And where are you from? Where is your homeland?”
“I come from Ukraine.”
“You speak excellent French. Did you study it in school there?”
“Oui, it was important to learn because my father and I worked alongside so many French artisans when we restored churches and castles. It has been an important language for me.”
“Especially now that you live in Paris. How long have you been living there?”
“I moved to Paris not long before I met Giselle. She asked me to come to Gernelle, and I was available while I am waiting for my job to start. There have been some delays.�
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“Giselle is lucky you were available. She says she wants to learn to be more like you in her art.”
“I do not know about being like me, but she is a great artist.”
“Just what she says about you.”
“Did I hear you are going to visit some monks today?”
“Sì, out in the Ardennes forest there is an order of Trappist Cistercian monks who make some of the best preserved foods in the world.”
“Well I hope you have a good day.” Markus stood up and took his dish over to the sink. “Thank you for breakfast, Juliette. Now, if you will excuse me.”
“Of course.” Juliette nodded and turned to Ippy. “Let us get ready to leave as well.”
Markus spent the morning working in the stable house workshop on a new sculpture. The one he’d taken a cane to was a total loss and he’d had to sweep it all into the trash bin. When working with his hands wasn’t enough to distract him, he exercised and then showered. It was late afternoon when he saw Giselle ride alone past his window. He peeked out the curtain and watched her dismount, and then she disappeared with her horse into the stables. He willed her to come see him, and his heart stopped when she opened the stable house door. She came inside, pulled the door closed, and leaned back against it to catch her breath. Keeping her eyes on his, she reached behind her back and turned the lock with a firm click. He approached her very slowly, nervous that she might turn and disappear. He couldn’t take another sleepless night; he’d had too many lately.
“Markus…” She was on the verge of continuing, but when he reached her she felt overwhelmed with nervous excitement. He stopped so close that she could feel his chest touching her breasts every-so-slightly, and his thighs grazing her thighs. He tipped his head, brought his lips to her ear, and inhaled her scent.
“Oui, Giselle?” It was a whisper.
Now that she had daringly escaped her friends and brazenly rushed to be with him in secret, she was losing her nerve. Here she was, melting and inflamed and confused. What she’d prepared to say had flown out of her head.
“I…”
He exhaled, and she felt his breath on the tender skin behind her ear.
“I…I want your hands on me,” she stammered.
His quick intake of breath caused a thrilling thump between her legs. Trying to cover her awkwardness, she moved around him into the room, and cringed inwardly at her own lack of cool. But it was the truth. She wanted his hands on every part of her. She wanted him to do the same things he’d done yesterday without being asked. Markus moved behind her, and his lips brushed the delicate hairs on the back of her neck.
“Mmm. You want my hands on you like this?” He placed his hands on her shoulders and pulled her back to lean against his chest. He trailed his left hand down from her ear, fingertips moving down the front of her neck and across her collarbone, while his right hand slid across her stomach. She leaned back against his hard body, feeling his breath in her ear.
“Oui.” It was a plea.
He smoothed his palm down over her left breast and cupped his hand underneath. With his other hand he unbuttoned her blouse, unfastened her bra, and began stroking the bare skin beneath. His fingertips grazed her nipples and they responded by hardening.
“You want my hands on you here?” He was caressing her bare stomach. She felt as if there was a direct current from there to her sex. The sensation was a hot rush as blood pooled low in her belly.
“Oui.” She arched her back to let her shirt and bra drop to the floor.
Markus was lost in tides of emotion, his mind furiously capturing every sensation, every smell, and the image of every part of her in case this never happened again. He could feel the pull of animal hunger urging him to pour everything that he was as a man into her until he had nothing left.
He slowly exhaled. “Is there anything else you want, Giselle?” He unfastened her pants, slipped the fingertips of both hands into the waistband of her jodhpurs, and eased them down as he stroked her hips and thighs.
“I...” She couldn’t think of a word to say.
“You?” She heard the smile in his voice, but she also heard something deep and almost pleading in his tone.
“I want your mouth on me.”
“Ahhh, you want my mouth on you.” He kissed her neck. “Will here do?”
He moved around in front of her, drew her over to the oversized chaise lounge, and sat her down. He knelt in front of her and pulled off her boots and pants before sitting next to her. He took her naked onto his lap for a full, deep kiss, licking her tongue slowly. His deep kisses made her head spin.
He stopped kissing to ask, “Or here?” He laid her back on the plush upholstery and trailed his lips and tongue slowly over her breasts. “Tell me where my mouth is needed.” He took his time kissing and nibbling his way down her stomach while he parted her legs.
Giselle felt such freedom as she surrendered to the fantasies she’d pushed out of her mind while working with Markus, and she opened herself to him.
Just as he had fantasized during their long hours of work with her legs wound around him, he now made love to her with his mouth and his hands.
Giselle loved every moment until she had to draw her legs together and saw spots in front of her eyes. She lay panting and dazed as he contented himself with kissing her inner thighs. After a few moments she raised herself onto an elbow and smiled.
“Merci.”
“You are most welcome.” He continued kissing her tenderly.
She felt relaxed and more confident now. “I would also like to see you naked. Will you take your clothes off please, Markus?”
He stood up without taking his eyes off her, removed his work shirt, and stepped out of his pants and slim knit boxers. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed where he gently pushed her down onto the soft feather bed and murmured, “Now would you like to know what I want?”
“Of course. How rude of me. Can I offer you something?” she asked as he climbed on top of her. Thrilling as his hard body molded to hers, she squealed with delight as he raised his hips preparing to enter her.
Alarmed, he stopped. “Did I hurt you yesterday?”
“No! I want you inside me. It only hurt for a moment and then, well, it was…” she parted her thighs, inviting him, “soooo good.”
He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “I want you to love having me inside you." He stroked his fingertips enticingly between her legs, opening her and testing her wetness. “I want you to feel the same pleasure that I feel.” And then he was filling her. Even with her reassurances, he was gentle as he made love to her. Together they were united in their need to stimulate each other, and abandoned themselves to the primal rhythm of their bodies. As the pace picked up, she felt herself surrounded by his hard body, filled by him, and she raced him to the edge of ultimate satisfaction, rocking her hips and concentrating on the friction between them. Their arousal built until they strained against one another and came in a rush. Just as she began to lose control, he allowed himself to come.
She was his. He’d known it the moment she accepted his gift on the sidewalk in front of her house. He caught his breath as he trailed his forehead along her jawline and planted kisses along her neck. He didn’t want to break the spell, but he had to know the answers to the questions that plagued him.
“You tell me you have given me your virginity. Does Vincenzo prefer the alternative?” He reached down to stroke her thigh and trailed his fingers down to the curve of her buttocks.
She shook her head, blonde hair shimmering in long waves. “No. I’m still a virgin there, too.”
“I do not understand. What is the nature of your relationship with Vincenzo? Is there something wrong with him? What am I missing?”
They heard whooping laughter as the ladies came racing into the courtyard on horseback.
Solange hollered, “Here comes the Jeep! We’ve beaten the men!”
Carolette yelled back, “Where’s Giselle? May
be I’ll have time to pay Markus a quick visit.”
He rose up on his hands to peek out the window and glimpsed the riders disappearing down the road toward the orchard.
“Oh!” Giselle reached her face up to quickly nibble his stomach. “I’ve got to go!”
She dashed over to the bathroom and climbed into the tub to rinse off. Markus followed her and sat at her feet as the water splashed over him. Looking up at her, he searched for answers.
“You must tell me what is going on. I feel that you are mine. I feel that you love me the way that I love you. What lie are you living with Vincenzo?”
Loud whoops now came from the men just outside as horses galloped past the stable house again. It sounded like the men were running after the women’s horses.
Giselle sank down onto his lap, straddling him on the colorful tile. “What? He’s my husband. Really. I’ll tell you what I can. But some secrets I can’t share.”
“What are you afraid of?” He kissed her fingertips.
“Gigi?” Vincenzo was calling from near the greenhouse.
“I have to go!” She swooped down to kiss him, then rushed out of the bath, toweled with brisk efficiency, yanked her clothes and boots on, and disappeared out the door into the sunshine.
Vincenzo was looking for Giselle in the greenhouse when he saw her come out of the stable house and start across the courtyard toward the château. He paused in the shadow of the door awning and was about to call out again, but something about her manner left him uncomfortably mute. He’d seen Giselle obsessed when working on her sculptures before, but she was acting differently this time. Just as he was about to step out of the shadows, he saw Carolette come around from the stables and approach the same door Gigi had just exited.
“Markus?” Carolette called. Then she leaned against the outside wall furtively applying lipstick.
Markus was dressed only in a pair of pants as he opened the door. “Alo, Carolette.”
Stealing Venice Page 17