“So, what did he do?”
“What could he do? He moved.”
Ben chuckled.
“Then there’s the time I told him that we probably shouldn’t be married because I’m a year older than he is. He said, ‘that isn’t a problem, we can wait until next year.’”
Ben chuckled again. “I see what you mean.”
“There is one good thing though.”
“What’s that?”
“If I need a break from him, I just give him a piece of paper with ‘turn the page over’ written on both sides. It occupies him for hours.”
Ben guffawed.
This was fun. Sara imagined a similar scene in her book. One in which Rafe laughed and teased with Kyra. That was the kind of scene she found most romantic, and loved to write, but had never actually experienced. You’re experiencing it now, said a little voice within her.
They continued to play the game for perhaps three quarters of an hour, Ben asking questions and Sara painting an absolutely dreadful picture of her three fictitious suitors. Ben ruled out Signore Parsimonioso almost immediately. “He loves his money first and best, so it is the mistress he loves best. It’s highly unlike he’ll squander it away gambling or pour it lavishly on a courtesan. But he will guard it jealously from you as well. You will live like a pauper and that would be tragic.”
Next Ben considered Signore Idiota. “He may be a fool, but there could be advantages to that. For if you marry him, by necessity you will have complete control over the household for to put him in charge of anything more challenging that dressing himself would be imprudent. Not to mention that having laughter in one’s life is a very good thing.”
Yes, a very good thing indeed. Sara nodded. “I see your points, but I fear for the children we would have. Because in my experience when a man is a fool, more often than not, his son is a bigger fool. No, I think Signore Antico is the one I must choose.”
“Are you sure?” asked Ben. “Being married to a man that old is likely to be pure misery.”
“I’m certain it will be. But on the bright side, it won’t be for long. He’s already got one foot in the grave and the other one is slipping.”
He laughed. “Nevertheless, it would be a crime to marry you to the old geezer for even a day. Maybe we should see if your father would consider a fourth suitor.”
“Pray tell, who?”
He cocked his head to one side. “Me.”
Yes, please. How wonderful would it be to be married to him? But she couldn’t. She had to go back, didn’t she? She tried to push the thought of marrying Ben out of her mind. Focus on the novel, that’s why you’re here. This scene would be an absolutely perfect point in the book for Rafe to kiss Kyra for the first time.
As if he had read her mind, Ben slipped one hand behind her neck and caressing her cheek with the other, he kissed her softly, then nipped at her lower lip.
She opened her mouth to him.
Ben emitted a soft groan, pulled her closer, and deepened the kiss.
She melted into him. Ben’s kiss was warm and soft, yet demanding. The ballroom became a dim blur of sound and color, too far away to matter. The only real things in her world were his arms around her and his lips on hers. She had longed to be in Ben’s arms and for him to kiss her. Truthfully, she had longed for a kiss like this her whole life.
And in that moment Sara knew she’d been fooling herself. This trip to the past, this soul exchange, was never meant to be about a romance novel. Her soul had travelled through time because this is where her soulmate was.
When their lips parted, Ben rested his forehead against hers. “Sara. I have tried. I swear to you, I have, but I’m failing miserably.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sweetling, I love you. I can’t bear to lose you. I have no right to ask and I will understand if you say no—”
She took his face in her hands, stood on tiptoe and silenced him with a kiss before saying, “Ben, I love you. I don’t want to leave you. Ever.”
“You’ll stay?” The note of wonderment in his voice pulled at her heart.
“I’ll stay.”
“Oh, thank God. I adore you and I’m certain if you left, you’d take my heart with you forever. He gave her another quick kiss. “So, there is something I must ask you. Sara Fern Wells, my precious girl, will you marry me?”
Her hand fluttered to her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. “Yes, Ben, I love you with all of my heart and I’ll marry you.”
He leaned down to kiss her again, just as movement across the room caught her eye. When she realized it was Zina making her way through the crowd on the arm of a large man wearing a mask and powdered wig, Sara went rigid. There was no part of him that she could see, but she knew instantly he was Ceres’s father.
“We have to leave. Now.” She hissed. She looped her arm through his and headed in the opposite direction.
“What’s wrong?”
“Zina was walking towards us with a man. Based on the fear I’m feeling, I think it’s Llewellyn.”
Ben didn’t pause to look. He maneuvered them through the festive crowd until they reached the stairway that led to the reception room. Just before they ducked out of the room, he glanced back.
“You’re right. I think it’s him and Zina is trying to get your attention. We need to leave and if we go by gondola they will catch up to us on the dock.” When they reached the level of the receiving room, instead of heading to the water door, he led her out a door on the opposite side. They hurried down a hall that went through to the back of the building.
Once outside he clasped her hand and turned to the right nearly running to the end of the alley. He paused, glanced both ways, and made a small jog to the left before entering another alley that ended at a small bridge over a canal. They crossed the bridge and turned right.
She had a death grip on his hand as, for the next ten minutes, he wound his way through the narrow streets, crossed two more canals until they reached a piazza in front of a church.
He stopped for a moment. “I think we can take a moment to catch our breath.”
“Where are we?”
“He looked up at the church. That’s the church of Saint Apollonia.”
“Where are we going?”
He smiled. “We are going back to Zina’s to get the gondola. Just down this alley and to the right is the church of San Silvestro. There is a traghetto pier there.”
“What’s a traghetto?”
“It’s sort of a ferry across the Grand Canal. Do they not have them in the future?”
“They might. I’m not sure. There are four bridges across the canal now instead of just one.”
“Once we cross, it will just take a few minutes to walk to Zina’s house.”
“What if Ceres’s father is already there with her?”
“I doubt they will be. They may not even have followed us down the stairs. It looked like she was just trying to get your attention. But even so, it won’t matter. The gondola is moored close to the alley by her house. I’ll be able to reach it from there, without entering the house.”
He had been right. When they reached San Silvestro, they didn’t have to wait long for the traghetto and they reached Zina’s house a few minutes later.
Sara finally breathed a sigh of relief when Ben piloted the gondola out of Rio di San Moisè into the east end of the Grand Canal and were headed for home across the lagoon.
Chapter 15 - Nothing to Lose
Sara had agreed to marry him. As he rowed across the lagoon, he allowed that to sink in. He couldn’t have wiped the happy smile off his face if his life depended on it.
Even so, their rapid departure from the ball was unsettling. While weaving their way through the streets of Venice, he’d wondered if this flight was completely necessary. He was going to marry her. They’d have to face Cere’s father at some point. But Sara’s fear in the moment had been intense. And because she couldn’t explain it, he thought it pru
dent to act on it and sort out Llewellyn later.
After he tied the gondola to his little dock, he helped Sara out of the felze. He smiled. She had used the time while they crossed to remove the pins from her hair and shake some of the powder from her hair. Her curls hung around her shoulders, her gown coated with more powder than her hair now.
When she stood on the dock beside him, alone under the moonlight, he kissed her again. More languorously this time. After all, a lifetime lay ahead of them. He wasn’t quite sure how long they stood there, locked in an embrace.
When he ended the kiss, she took his hand and stepped away. “Shall we go home now?”
Home. “Yes, my love, let’s go home.”
They walked silently up to the house, her hand in his. Perhaps his grip was a little strong, but held on equally as tightly. It was almost as if, having just realized they were meant to be together, they didn’t want to risk losing one another.
Once they entered the house, Benedict took her face in his hands and kissed her again, more heatedly than before. Her arms slid around his neck and she returned his ardor. He practically forced himself to end the kiss and pull slightly away. “My darling girl, I love you and I want to make you mine, but we aren’t married yet. I know things are different in your time, but wouldn’t dishonor you for anything.”
Sara shook her head. “There is no dishonor in the expression of love and I do love you. We will be married soon. I want to make love with you.” She took his hands in hers and smiling coyly, stepped back towards the stairs pulling him with her. “Come upstairs with me.”
Benedict groaned, wanting nothing more. “You’re certain?”
“Absolutely certain.”
“Aye, then, I’ll go upstairs with you.”
She turned and still holding on to one of his hands, lifted her skirts with the other, and practically ran up the stairs. When they reached his bedroom, he covered her lips with his own, kissing her deeply again.
She responded. This time, instead of encircling his neck with her arms, she started working at the buttons on his waistcoat, then his shirt. Pulling it from his breeches, she put her hands under the fabric and stroked his chest with her small, soft hands.
He broke the kiss long enough to pull the shirt over his head. Her hands continued to roam over his body as he returned the favor, pulling at laces and buttons to free her from the beautiful brocade dress. “Women wear too many clothes,” he murmured as he tried to untie the panniers.
“I couldn’t agree more,” she said, stopping her exploration of his body to rid herself of several pesky layers even as he undid the many buttons on his breeches.
Finally, they were both free of their garments. She stood before him, the moonlight through the window cast a magical glow around her.
“You are magnificent, Sara, and you take my breath away.”
“I could say the same about you.” She stepped toward him, her naked body molding against his. “But I’m not in the mood to talk.” She stood on tiptoe pressing her lips against his. “Make love to me, Ben,” she whispered.
“I can deny you nothing, my beautiful girl.” He lifted her in his arms and crossed the room to lay her gently on the bed before laying down beside her.
Her small hands roamed over his chest and shoulders. Although tentative and feather-light at first, her touch enflamed his passion. She slipped her hands down his sides and across his belly, brushing the crisp hair that led to his groin. He moaned and grabbed her hands. “Ah, Sara, my love, I can’t bear it.”
She smiled. “You said you could deny me nothing.”
He chuckled. I also said I’d make love to you, but I’ve wanted you for so long, if you torture me so, I won’t be able to keep that promise.”
He pulled her hands to his lips and kissed them. Then still holding her hands in his, he moved them over her head and captured her lips in another kiss, before trailing kisses down the slender column of her throat. With aching slowness, he eventually reached his goal, her round creamy breasts. He enclosed one pert nipple in his mouth and suckled, gently teasing with his tongue. He released her hands, cupping the other breast, massaging it lightly before sliding his hand over her silky belly to the dark curls at the apex of her legs.
She arched into his touch, almost purring with delight.
He put the heel of one hand over her most private part, massaging with a circling motion, gently increasing the pressure.
Her hands went to his shoulders, clinging to him and lifting her hips to increase the pressure even more.
If she needed more, he’d give her more, and he slipped his thumb inside to circle the sensitive spot, pleased when she writhed against his touch. As her pleasure built, he slipped a finger inside. He slowed his movements slightly for a moment, watching her.
“You are so beautiful, Sara.”
Lost in pleasure, she simply moaned and arched against his hand. He positioned himself over her, continuing to rub and tease with his hands. When she panted, arching her head back and beginning to tremble with her release, he slid his hardness into her with one firm thrust. He felt her muscles continue to contract, even as she gave a small cry. As much as he craved his own release, he held very still within her, watching as the tremors of her climax swept through her.
~ * ~
Sara was not a virgin, but Ceres was. Still, she’d never had a lover who focused so completely on her. When Benedict entered her at the peak of her release, she cried out, but it wasn’t from pain. It was from the sheer bliss of joining so completely with him. Any discomfort became so melded with the waves of bliss coursing through her, she didn’t care.
She took his face in her hands and pulled him to her lips. She kissed him with abandon, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him to her. But he held rigidly still. “Sweetheart, you can move.”
“I’ve hurt you. I don’t want to make it worse.”
“But you haven’t hurt me. Please, let me give you what you crave.”
He groaned but began to move very slowly. As he moved, she felt the heat growing in her belly once more. She moved with him, rising to meet him, pushing him to move faster. A driving need coursed through her until once again, she trembled as waves of ecstasy swept through her body yet again. And as her muscles contracted around the hard length of him, he cried out and she felt the warm rush of his seed within her. “Dear God, Sara…” His voice trailed off. He panted and lowered his forehead to hers.
“That was spectacular,” she finished his sentence.
He chuckled and kissed her. “Absolutely spectacular.”
He withdrew from her, and laid on his side next to her, pulling her against him.
“Mmm. I love spooning,” she said.
“Spooning?”
“We are nestled like spoons in a drawer. Where I come from we call it spooning.”
“Spooning. Yes, I think I quite like it, too.”
That was the last thing she remembered as she drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 16 - Nothing to Lose
Most of Sunday was spent in each other’s arms. Sara had never felt like this before. Benedict completed her. The modern woman in her was briefly appalled by that sentiment. Still, it was the right word. It wasn’t as if she had been missing or searching for something. No, she had been a complete person before. But there was something different now. They had become one, two parts of something greater than each had been alone. She had certainly never felt this about any other man—even those few who she thought she had loved.
This must be what it felt like to find one’s soulmate.
When Monday morning came, neither of them were ready to reenter the real world, but there was work to be done and a marriage to arrange.
After breakfast, Sara said, “I’ll just go get the ball gown Zina loaned me and I’ll be ready to go.”
“Go?”
“Yes, I need to go to Zina’s.”
“But, sweetling, if you are staying, there is no reason to pretend
to be a maidservant any longer. I can return the dress for you.”
“It isn’t just the dress, Ben. We fled that party without a word to anyone. I owe her an explanation.”
He nodded. “I suppose you do. Shall I speak to her with you? What if Llewellyn is there?”
“One of the servants will answer the door. If Zina is occupied, we will leave. But if she isn’t, I think it might be better for me to see her alone first. Besides, weren’t you going to find out what we need to do to be legally married?”
“Yes, I was. The sooner that is accomplished, the happier I’ll be.”
When they arrived at Zina’s house, the servant who answered the door confirmed that the Signora was alone and expecting her.
Ben handed the ball gown and all of its accoutrement to her.
“Thank you.” Sara gave him a quick kiss. “Will you return at the usual time?”
“No. I only intend to go to the shipyard briefly this morning. Then I’ll sort out the marriage details. I’ll return for you at midday.”
She smiled broadly. “Good. I’ll see you then.”
She watched him push of the wall and begin rowing down the canal before she entered the house. She was certain she’d never tire of watching him.
The servant took the garments from her before she practically ran up to steps to Zina’s rooms.
Of course, Zina hadn’t dressed for the day yet. She wore a dressing gown as she lounged on a chaise, sipping hot chocolate. “Well, well, well. You have a bit of explaining to do. I’m certain you saw me before dashing the other direction in a manner befitting Cinderella. I half expected to find that you’d left a slipper behind.”
The twinkle in Zina’s eyes suggested that she was more curious than offended.
“I’m sorry, Zina. It was terribly rude of me, but I can explain.”
“Then explain away. Sit down. Pour yourself a cup of chocolate first if you wish.”
Sara took the chair across from Zina. “No, thank you. Perhaps when I’ve finished the story.”
“Suit yourself, but don’t make me wait any longer.”
“Well, I guess the most exciting bit is that we realized how much we loved each other. I decided to stay and he’s asked me to marry him.”
The Choice: The Pocket Watch Chronicles Page 12