The Vine

by C. A Ellis

  Luke smiles and whispers, “My Angel.” I lay my head on his lap, and Luke caresses the nape of my neck while we listen to the sweet harp being played in the bar. Eventually, I sit back beside him and we talk. Every now and then, we stop while I touch his face, his arms, his hands or his knee. I don’t care; I just need to touch parts of him to convince myself he’s real.

  The hours fly by, and then I feel Luke move and stand up. He holds onto my hands and pulls me up with him. “Shall we go?”

  I nod, but I don’t know why I do; I don’t want to go back to my hotel, I don’t want Luke to go back to his and I don’t want this night to end. I have just gotten him back; I don’t want him leaving me yet. As I start to head for the door, Luke grabs my hand and pulls me back to him, “Where on earth are you going, young lady?”

  “I, er…” I stutter. “I thought we were leaving.”

  “Well, if you want to leave, then feel free to go, but just to let you know, I took the liberty of booking a room.” He looks shy as he says, “Well, I would have booked the penthouse—as it’s the best, and you only deserve the best—but seeing that they don’t have a penthouse, the honeymoon suite is the best room here.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Luke, are you trying to convince me?” I say in feigned shock. “Because seriously, don’t bother; you had me at ‘I took the liberty of booking a room.’” I laugh.

  “Miss Maynard, you seem to have become a bit brazen during our time apart.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Castle, I am just desperate to make wild, passionate love to you.” I barely finish the statement before he scoops me up into his arms and stalks off toward the lift. The thrill sends a shiver through me from head to toe. Luke presses the button for the lift and we wait, but he doesn’t look at me; I don’t think he trusts himself to behave in public. The lift arrives and we step in. Luke prods a button and the doors close.

  No sooner than they are shut, I feel his lips on mine. I feel through his kiss how desperate he is, and I kiss him back just as fervently. As the doors open at our destination floor, Luke doesn’t stop. He takes a key card out of his pocket and unlocks a door. He then kicks the door open wide and walks in, still devouring me with his lips.

  Once we are inside and the door automatically closes, Luke puts me down, slows his kiss and holds my head in his hands as he pulls his face back away from mine. He kisses my forehead, my nose, my chin, each cheek and then I’m just a mass of kisses as he desperately covers every inch of my face; it’s like he can’t believe I’m here and he can’t get enough.

  I can tell it’s a struggle when he forces himself to stop, his breathing is unnaturally erratic, he looks like an addict with me being the source of his addiction, and that thought alone turns me on so furiously I am now the one kissing him. My hands are in the back of his hair, grabbing, frantic and desperate for him. I feel him pull the spaghetti straps off of my shoulders, and my dress drops to the floor. I step out of it and pull his shirt open, and pushing it down his shoulders, I hear a few buttons hit the wooden floor here and there, but I don’t care, I need him. As his shirt slides down away from his body, I lightly gasp, partly because I am in awe of his exquisite masculine form and partly because his usually perfect body has been slightly marred, with fading cuts and bruises. I gently touch one of the larger bruises on his ribs, caressing the green and yellow discolouration, which I know in the early days after the accident would have consisted of much darker hues of purple, red and blue, The anguish in my eyes must be evident, as I see Luke lightly smile whilst he gently shakes his head, silently telling me, he’s fine and not to be concerned. Obviously the bruises don’t hurt him any more and I recognise from the look in his eyes that he doesn’t need my pity, he just needs me.

  Luke releases his trousers and down they fall. He pulls his shirt all the way off, and now we’re calm, we both take the time to step back to admire each other and exactly what we have missed. We carefully touch the parts of one another that we have missed the most and I try to ignore the scars and bruising as I caress the back of his hair and neck, his muscular shoulders and his strong arms, his tanned chest, with his darker nipples that become erect and alive as I lightly stroke them, his solid smooth abs and that mad tight V I can see disappearing into his tight fitting shorts—the shorts that hold his amazing, taut bum. Before my mind goes any further, I concentrate on Luke and what parts of me he needs to reintroduce himself to.

  For him, it seems to be my nose, as he kisses it again, my throat, which he runs his hands down, my prominent clavicle bones, which he runs his tongue over, my breasts, which he cups and my nipples, which he lightly flicks his tongue over. Luke’s hands are then on my waist, as his thumb circles my belly button. He pulls my thong down and off; I can see his shorts stretching to capacity, so I relieve him of them and our kissing ensues. Our lips moulding together, while our tongues seem to melt into one. A small lift from Luke’s muscular frame and my legs lock around his waist, my arms winding tightly around his neck, and I can feel his hands on my back, holding me, supporting me and protecting me.

  He walks backwards, turning as he approaches the bed and lays me down like I am precious treasure. My legs stay locked around his waist as he lowers himself onto me. Luke slows our kisses and pulls back to look at me; his face looks slightly pained, but I know it’s just the desperate need he has for me; I know this because I feel it too. When he finds his voice, he says, “Angel, there is so much I want to do to you, and so much we have to catch up on, but right now, I just need to be lost in you.”

  When I catch the breath Luke so easily takes away from me, I respond, “There’s nothing I want more than you, my beautiful man.” This time, we don’t kiss. As Luke slides himself into me, he looks right at me, and I gasp at how emotional I feel, but I don’t take my eyes off of him. The comfortable rhythm we create is intoxicating. The more intense we become in our movements, the more sensations we create, and the more our emotions are heightened, becoming out of control, almost climaxing before we physically do ourselves.

  When I look into Luke’s eyes, I see they are glistening, although he doesn’t shed a tear. Unfortunately, I can’t be as controlled as a tear rolls down my cheek. We both ignore it because we know it’s nothing more than how much love there is between us, and how forever grateful we are to be having this beautiful moment together—a moment we both thought we’d never have again.

  I can feel myself getting close to my release, and as I feel it, Luke rests his forehead against mine and slows his rhythm.

  “Ready?” I hear him ask.

  I smile and nod, thinking Hell yeah, although I’d never be so crass as to say it out loud. He gives me a smile and starts to pick up his pace. I just know this is going to be out-of-this-world amazing, and as my orgasm starts to climb again, my eyes roll back into my head at how utterly fucking fantastic this feels. I momentarily close my eyes to take in every earth-shattering second, every sensation.

  I hear Luke call my name and my eyes snap open to watch the intensity in him as he starts to come, and with that, I follow suit, coming with him while staring straight into his eyes, feeling every emotion he feels and wanting it to last forever.

  We both come down from what I can only describe as the most incredible, intense, loving, wonderful experience of my life. How could I ever love another? As Luke leaves my intimate place, I feel bereft; he slides off of me and lies down beside me, but pulls me in close to him. With his arm around me, I snuggle into his chest and place my hand on his heart, feeling the erratic beat caused by our lovemaking.

  “Lizzy?”

  “Yes?” I answer, thinking I’ve never felt so blissfully happy.

  “Do you know—and you can be honest—a way I could possibly ever live my whole life without you? Because if you can, please let me know, because I just can’t see it.” Luke sighs.

  I smile into his chest. “Don’t you worry about things like that, because I’m not going anywhere ever again.” I feel him squeeze me tighter and I know he
’s satisfied. Entwined in each other’s arms, we both fall into a peaceful slumber—probably the most tranquil sleep either of us has had in a long time.

  When I wake up, I notice something I haven’t felt in ages—I feel calm and rested. I get up and pad off to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror and really taking myself in, I have colour in my face and vibrancy back in my eyes.

  As I walk back out, Luke is waiting for me and I walk straight into his arms. I take my time to look around the room, as I really didn’t see anything last night except for Luke; it really is hard to notice anything else when he’s around. It’s only now I notice there are petals everywhere and how beautiful the room is with its big, old-fashioned, four-poster bed. “This is gorgeous,” I say, “and perfect.”

  “Yes, you are,” I hear Luke answer and I smile.

  “Did you arrange for the petals?” I ask.

  “Of course, and the champagne, and the wardrobe of dresses and underwear.”

  “Why did you organise dresses and underwear?” I ask, confused.

  “Angel, I have just gotten you back; I am not going to let you out of my sight, so I am certainly not going to let you leave to go back to your hotel while I go back to mine.” I roll my eyes mockingly, but I can’t resist a snigger when really all I want to do is jump up and down shouting Yes, Yes, Yes! because there’s no way I want to leave him either.

  “Right,” I say trying to sound assertive and get back to the real world for a moment, even though that means leaving my safe cocoon here with Luke, “I am going to have a shower and get dressed.” I walk off to the bathroom, and it’s the hardest thing turning my back on him to walk away—I’ve done it once, when he needed me most, and I will never walk away from him again. I console myself with the fact I am only going to the bathroom, but it’s still a hard thing to do. I hear Luke say he is going make some calls home to let everyone know the good news. I assume he means that he’s found me and I am safe.

  When I come out of the bathroom, Luke is still on the telephone, so I look in the wardrobe and pull out a gorgeous, flowy, white summer dress, find some pretty white underwear to match and pop back into the bathroom to slip it on. As I step into the dress and pull it up, I feel Luke behind me as he zips me up and kisses my neck.

  He takes my hand like an old-fashioned gent and leads me back into the bedroom. I spot my sparkly sandals I’d had on yesterday and quickly slip them on. I am thinking once again how much a day changes things—for the bad when Luke had his accident, but also for the good, like waking up with him this morning after the most amazing evening.

  It really brings it home to me how we all should live for the moment and live each day to the fullest, just in case it does turn out to be our last. As I turn back around to Luke, I’m smiling. My smile instantly turns to surprise when I see he is no longer standing beside me. I look down to see him kneeling on one knee in front of me with a look on his face that seems so alien for him; he looks nervous and somewhat anxious, reminding me of the day months ago when he came into my office to ask me to go to dinner with him. It’s this look on his face that is concerning me the most, pulling me in.

  The fact that I am completely focused on his worried expression is probably the reason I haven’t paid much attention to his stance at all. I touch his hair gently and ask, “Are you okay, baby?” I’m still wondering what on earth he is doing when he takes my hand in his, and my furrowed brow must give my confusion away, as Luke raises his eyebrows at me as if to say, C’mon, what? You really don’t know?

  Shock finally hits me as I realise what he is about to do.

  “Lizzy, the saying ‘I can’t imagine you not being in my life’ doesn’t apply to me, because I unfortunately have had the experience of you not being in mine, and it was a living hell. When I originally booked our trip to Verona, I was going to ask you to marry me. People would have criticised us by saying after a six-month relationship it was too soon, but when you have waited your whole life for someone and know for a fact you’ve found them, there’s no such thing as too soon. I would have proposed on our first date if I’d have thought you would have said yes. That moment you collided with me at my office—the first time I ever saw you—everything changed. You were mine, and more importantly, I was yours. It took me a long time to find you, my Angel, and yet no time at all to fall in love with you. So, Elizabeth Maynard, would you do me the greatest honour of becoming my wife?” With that, Luke produces a box containing the most exquisite princess-cut diamond ring.

  I bend down to his level and kneel in front of him. I can’t resist kissing the only man there will ever be in my life—the only man I’ve ever loved—and I put my heart and soul into that kiss. When I pull back, the tears come. I hear Luke’s voice break as he says, “Well, you haven’t actually answered me yet.”

  I nod, followed by a feeble “Yes” through my tears. The smile that breaks out across my beautiful man’s face is breath-taking; he carefully takes my hand and slides the ring on my finger. I admire the ring like a girl should; I tilt my hand around to different lights to watch the diamond sparkle.

  I look back up at Luke because I can’t quite believe all this is happening, and with that thought, I throw my arms around him so hard, being on one knee, he loses his balance and falls to the side, pulling me with him and holding me close. I love it when he holds me to him like this; I feel so safe and loved, and it’s such a wonderful feeling. I relax into him, but the tears just keep coming.

  “Hey, Angel, this is meant to be one of the happiest days of your life; why are you still crying?” I shrug now embarrassed.

  When I’m able to speak, I want to convince Lucas of just how ecstatically happy I am. “Lucas Joseph Castle, this truly is the happiest day of my life. All my moments with you are amazing, but this is incredible. It’s at times like this I wish I could phone Mum and Dad and share my news with them.” My voice breaks and I can’t continue.

  “I get it, Lizzy; I would have loved nothing more than to have asked your dad for your hand in marriage and gotten his approval.

  “He would have approved, Luke. I know it. I just know he and Mum would have loved you and the way you take care of me; that’s all a parent wants for their children.

  “Yes, and also they would want to know what a caring and considerate lover I am to their only daughter,” Luke jokes.

  I blush just thinking about it, and Luke laughs harder.

  I crack a smile and then start to laugh with him; his laugh is infectious like that. Then I say, “Well come on then, stud; show me just what a caring and considerate lover you are.”

  Then wiping the smile off of my face, my fiancé does just that.

  Chapter Thirty – Lizzy

  I would be happy to stay at The Vine, locked up with Luke forever, but I need to go and see a lot of people today, friends who I owe one hell of an explanation to, and I decide to start with my darling Stefano, who I have grown so fond of. Oh, God, I hope he understands. Luke said he would come with me, but I decline his offer. I laugh when he tries to act like he isn’t bothered, but I can see right through him at how worried he really is.

  I manage to pacify him by mentioning he has a lot to sort out himself; the first thing on the list of being sorted out is a new mobile phone for me. This cheers him up, and I seal the compromise by agreeing to a lunch date with him. As I sit with Luke in the back of a taxi on our way to Verona’s square, his arm around my shoulders and me leaning into him with my hand on his lean thigh, I can’t help but pinch myself hard—so hard, in fact, it makes me yelp.

  Luke looks down at me. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” I answer, my brow wrinkling as I rub my arm.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, chuckling at my concerned face.

  “Oh, I just pinched myself really hard, and it hurt more than I thought it would,” I reply, now totally embarrassed by my adolescent behaviour.

  Luke laughs, throwing his head back as the belly laugh takes him over. He isn’t making me feel m
uch better. As he notices the seriousness my features have taken on, he stops laughing and says, “Well of course pinching yourself would hurt; why would you do that?” His blue eyes are wide with anticipation of my answer, and I know he doesn’t realise my reasoning for my self-harm.

  I look into those ocean blue eyes, and I don’t have to think before I reply, “To make sure all of this is real…that you are real. I have had weeks of torture thinking you were dead, thinking I was never going to see your handsome face again, let alone feel your touch, kiss your lips and make love to you again. Last night was amazing having you back in my life alive and well. And this morning, I was on cloud nine when after only one night back together, you asked me to marry you.

  “This is the kind of stuff dreams are made of—happy, wonderful dreams. I’m used to horrible dreams and nightmares, or having good ones where things like this with you happen, but then I wake up, and in a split second, I go from happy to hysterical when I realise it’s all been a dream, and I’m left a sweating, shaking, sobbing, uncontrollable mess.”

  Luke looks pityingly at me and I can’t bear it. “Please don’t look at me like that; I don’t deserve your love, kindness or pity. I left you. You were dying and I left you. How can you ever really trust me again, and how can you even begin to forgive me?” I ask, desperate to know if after all of what we’ve been through, we can really make it.

  Luke pulls his arm from around my shoulders as he turns to me and puts his hands on either side of my face. He holds me tightly, bordering on painfully, and I can tell he’s angry. “Angel, don’t you dare say these things and have this guilt hanging around your neck like a noose. Firstly, there is nothing to forgive. I understand your reasons; if the roles were reversed and I was told you were going to die, God only knows how I would react, the thought of living the rest of my life without you would be excruciatingly painful, and yes, probably too painful for me to bear. I know this because I had a taste of what my life would be like without you in it, and the pain was agonizing, but my medication at that god-awful time was knowing I would never give up hope of finding you again.