by Belle Ami
The deepness of his voice travelled through her like an electric current. “You do?”
“I do, baby.” He poured shampoo into his hand and massaged her scalp. She closed her eyes, concentrating on a sensation she’d never experienced before except in a beauty salon by a stranger. Minutes passed. Then he moved her under the water and rinsed the soap out. He filled his hand with conditioner and coated it through her hair.
Tears sprang to her eyes. Without meaning to, he’d touched on something deep inside of her. She was motherless and all the things that mothers do were alien to her. A heartache she’d never come to terms with. Alex’s gentleness brought back those feelings of loss. It was as if he was psychically tuned in to whatever had hurt her in life and he was on a mission to heal her.
“What’s wrong, baby, did I do something wrong?”
“No, Alex, everything you do is right. I didn’t have a mother… who washed my hair as a child… I… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything. Just let me please you. If you want to moan, don’t let me stop you.” He winked.
Everything he did felt like heaven. He poured liquid soap on a loofah and turned her around. Rubbing the sponge in a circular motion down her back, over her bottom, he lathered her in the lavender-and-rosemary-scented soap. She sighed with longing, her desire for him mounting. Standing behind her, his soapy hands massaged her breasts, travelling down her belly and farther down to her inner thighs. She moaned as he swirled the rich lather between her legs, making her gasp with pleasure.
He whispered in her ear, “Now, it’s my turn.”
Seeing him standing there naked and aroused, ignited her even more. “Can I help?”
“I was hoping you’d ask.”
She ran her hands over his soapy body. His muscles tensed beneath her fingers. When she touched his shaft, he groaned. “Jeez, baby, you’re making it hard for me not to take you right here.”
“This is so much fun, I don’t want it to end. I can’t decide which I like better, bathing you and feeling your hard body, or looking out the window and watching the sun sink below the ridge line of the mountain.” She realized she was getting pretty good at teasing him the way he teased her.
“Why choose?” He moved in front of the window, giving her a view of both the sunset and his silhouetted body. Her hands, again, sought his manhood. She loved watching him close his eyes and fight not to succumb to the pleasure.
Her lips traced a path on his neck and whispered, “Okay, that’s just too much of a good thing.”
He pulled her under the rain spout and kissed her, his hardness poking against her stomach. Water poured over them and rivulets of soap and conditioner glistened on their skin before disappearing down the drain.
He murmured against her lips, “Shall we finish this here or in bed?”
She moaned. “Bed. My legs are buckling.”
Smiling, he turned off the water, opened the shower door and grabbed a thick towel off the suspended towel shelf. He gently dried her from head to toe. “I don’t know who’s enjoying this more, me or you.”
“I can’t speak to your pleasure, but mine’s off the charts.”
“Good answer.” He wrapped her snug in the towel and grabbed another, quickly drying himself. Then he picked her up and carried her to the bed.
Maybe it was the shower and the long, slow lead up to their lovemaking, but every nerve ending in her body felt alive and responded to every touch, every kiss, every beat of his heart, every press of his body on hers, every whispered word of adoration. He made love to her as if it were the only thing on earth that mattered. She rode a sea of passion until she crested like a wave, shattering into a million points of light.
He rhythmically thrust through her orgasm until her trembling stilled, then stiffening he came, his groan of pleasure filling her ear. “Angel, I’ve never felt like this before,” he breathed, still inside her.
His words launched another round of fireworks, her eyes fluttered closed and a moan escaped her as she tightened around him, and climaxed once more.
“Every time you shatter like that, I want to feel it again. Like an addiction I never want to stop,” he groaned.
“I can’t help it, it’s you, my reaction to you.”
“Don’t stop whatever you do, baby. I can’t get enough.”
“A part of me is afraid where this might end. I’m afraid that, like a candle burning from both ends, the wax will melt and there will be nothing left to burn.”
“You’ve got to trust that this is more than a fleeting moment, believe that it has roots that run deep. Don’t you understand that those roots are wrapped around my heart?”
She nestled closer into his arms. “I’m trying, Alex. More than anything I want to believe this is real.”
“It is real.” On the nightstand the buzz of his phone drew his attention. “Hang on, let me check this.” He picked up the phone. “Okay, I’ve got Sophia’s granddaughter Lucrezia’s number in Rome. I should call her now before it gets too late.”
He dialed and Lucrezia picked up. He explained to her that he was the buyer of Casa del Sole and he had some questions he’d like to discuss with her mother, Fioretta.
Angela watched his face as he listened to Lucrezia. After what seemed an eternity, Alex asked. “I understand your mother’s condition, and I know you don’t think she’d be of any help to me, but I think that talking to me and my girlfriend might trigger something in her memory. I’d like to give it a shot.”
He listened, drawing his brows together. “I know you think I’m wasting my time, but I’m willing to take that chance. If you agree, my girlfriend and I will fly to Rome in the next few days and call on your mother whenever it’s convenient. I promise we won’t do anything to upset her.”
Again, he listened.
“Thank you. I’ll text you our itinerary and you can let me know what time would be agreeable to you.”
Pause.
“Very good. I look forward to hearing from you.” He hung up and turned to her.
“I don’t get it. What did she say, and what’s this about going to Rome?” She was still trying to still her pulse after hearing him call her his girlfriend.
“Fioretta has Alzheimer’s and Lucrezia doesn’t believe her mother will be able to answer any questions, but I have a feeling about this. Call it what you want, a detective’s intuition or whatever, but I think when you and Fioretta meet, another window of memory will open.”
“So just like that, we drop everything, leave Montefioralle and go to Rome on a hunch?”
“Yep. That’s what investigators do, and this is an investigation isn’t it? Besides, what’s so bad about you and me taking a side trip?”
“Nothing, but it’s a lot of time and money to spend on a hunch that might not pan out. Especially since we’re making so much progress here.”
“You let me worry about the money. I’m only sorry we can’t stay longer. This is going to be a get-in-and-get-out-fast. Three days at the most. You’ve never been to the Eternal City. I think we’ll have enough time to see a few of the sights.”
She didn’t know why it bothered her to leave Montefioralle, but he was probably right. Sophia’s daughter might hold some key to the mystery. “Do we tell her about the reincarnation stuff and the painting?”
“I don’t know. Best to play it by ear, see if she remembers the cave or whether she ever heard her mother speak about the da Vinci. I’m curious to know what she knows about her father, too.”
“I was Sophia in my past life… It feels insane to think I’ll be meeting my own daughter.” Her heart rattled in her chest, imagining what their reaction to each other would be.
“How about me? She’s my daughter, too, even if she never knew me.”
“I just don’t understand why this is happening. Why am I remembering thing
s that are better left unknown? There’s a reason why most people can’t remember their past lives. It’s too upsetting to watch yourself and people you love grow ill or die. Not to be able to change things is heartbreaking. What’s the point?”
“The point is there are lessons to be learned. The point is you and me were meant to find each other.”
“It certainly would be easier if you could remember, too. When is the veil going to lift for you?”
“Besides my marching orders from Giuliano at the Getty and then that stunt he pulled in the sacristy, I don’t think it’s going to happen. For some reason you’re the conduit. It’s unexplainable and, from what I’ve read, rare. It’s clear there’s a reason. It’s not accidental. At least I don’t think it is. I’m just hoping that finding the painting will bring closure and we can move on.”
He gathered her into his arms. “Speaking of moving on, how about we get back to where we left off.” He kissed her until she surrendered all argument, and then just to finish her off, he added, “And then let’s put together that picnic with all the goodies we bought. I’m hungry and can’t get past the thought of licking the crumbs off your body.”
How does he do that? How did he kindle a flame in her when she was having doomsday visions? One kiss and she couldn’t think of anything else. How did someone who’d spent most of her life alone, suddenly become attached to a man to the point that all reason was blown away like a pile of leaves in the wind?
She tried to rally around caution, to prepare herself for whatever might come, and then he swept in like a hurricane, razing her barriers and leaving her open and vulnerable. Her cautious side worried that what was happening between them was due to unusual circumstances. What if it didn’t last? It was happening too fast and at too great an emotional height. If it all came crashing down, what would sustain them?
She was a historian who analyzed the past, to open the doors of discussion. She hypothesized about possibilities, while he was the detective working feverishly to reach a definitive conclusion. Alex’s temperament was mirrored in his love for fast cars, he was in a race to the finish line. They were polar opposites.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re thinking too much.”
“It’s what I do.”
“Think about this.” He pinned her beneath him filling her with a passion impossible to ignore. She was lost in his feverish need, the thrust of his body inside of her, and she couldn’t see beyond it, nor did she want to. All she wanted to do was climb to the dizzying heights of sensuality and shatter like glass beneath him. Sex, which had never played an important role in her life, was suddenly taking center stage. For the moment, she locked away her worries and let her heart and body rule her head.
Chapter 16
Rome, Italy
August 12, 2018
The chauffeured Mercedes Benz sped away from the Hassler Hotel and headed to Il San Lorenzo, on the Via dei Chiavari, near the Campo de’Fiori piazza. Alex held tight to Angela’s hand in the backseat. She looked out the window taking in the sights. They whizzed past the Coliseum, ablaze in lights and he heard her audibly sigh. His gaze was locked on her and had been since she’d emerged from the bathroom dressed and ready to go.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you look?” The thought of her luscious, red-lipsticked lips on him made him squirm.
She noticed his discomfort. “Penny for your thoughts? And yes, you’ve told me at least five times. But you can say it again, I’m not tired of hearing it.”
She wore a simple white blouse and the gray pencil skirt. The same outfit she wore when they first met. Actually, it was the second time they’d met, the first time she was in a trance at the Getty. He knew her wardrobe choices were limited. A tight budget meant few frivolities. He wanted to take her to every fancy boutique in Rome and adorn her in an array of outfits that would do justice to her beauty, but he knew she’d never allow it. One day, he thought.
They were seated by the Maître d’ at a white linen-draped table. The dining room was intimate, with cream-colored walls hung with modern art and photographs. The recessed vaulted brick ceiling displayed a crystal chandelier reflecting rays of sparkling light that imbued the room with a magical glow. From their table, they could see out the glass doors to the terrace and the fading afternoon light.
“It really is the Eternal City, isn’t it? A place where elegance and decay inhabit the same time and place,” Angela said.
“That’s Rome, crumbling antiquity and unparalleled luxury.”
“Where does Lucrezia live?”
“On the outskirts of the central city. It’s a very upscale neighborhood.”
“Well, I’m looking forward to seeing how the well-heeled in Rome live.”
“Speaking of the well-heeled, I’ve been thinking that after we find the painting and put this case to rest we might spend some time travelling.”
“Travelling?”
“Yeah, maybe you’d like to meet my mother and father. I know I’d sure like to meet your dad. Any man who could have raised a daughter like you is tops on my list.”
Her mouth gaped open.
“That supposes, of course, that you and I were to become a couple.” He smiled, enjoying the look of dumbfounded disbelief stamped on her face.
She closed her mouth and took a long swig of her Bellini. “I think you’re jumping a little too far ahead, don’t you?”
“Would you mind allowing me a little wishful thinking?”
She took his hand and leaned in to kiss him, to thank him, he supposed. He knew she’d intended to just brush her lips on his, but he grabbed her behind her head and delivered a slow, deep, lingering kiss.
“That’s better,” he murmured against her lips. Kissing her was an adrenaline rush. It made him think of things he’d never considered. What would it be like to wake up every day of his life with her, to have a child with her?
The idea of trusting her, protecting her, dedicating himself to her seemed natural. His parents’ marriage had been a disaster, but that was because his father cheated and his mother wasn’t the most nurturing woman in the world. Neither he, nor Angela were like that.
The waiter cleared his throat and they broke apart laughing. He, of course, didn’t care who saw him kiss her. Hell, I’d kiss her in Macy’s front window. “Do you want to step outside your comfort zone? Live a little dangerously,” he asked her, with a lift of his brow.
“And do what?” She bit her lip and lust rippled through him.
“Be careful what you wish for,” he whispered. “I was thinking of ordering the degustation menu.” Her eyes lit hungrily, and he suddenly wished they’d stayed in their room and ordered room service. He’d lived thirty-two years in this world, survived unparalleled danger in Afghanistan, experienced his share of meaningless relationships, seen it all and done it all, yet nothing and no one had ever affected him like Angela. She made the simple and the mundane special.
Angela applauded when the waiter set the first course, a colorful presentation of three different fish tartare, on the table. The waiter’s eyebrows raised as if he was in the presence of an alien from outer space. Then he bowed in deference to her childlike appreciation. Alex knew at that moment that she had a gift she wasn’t in the least aware of. Her infectious joie de vivre, the way people reacted to her positive energy, made her a magnet. Normally wary of people’s motives, it wasn’t a characteristic he possessed. But just like the waiter, he’d fallen head over heels and trusted that she was without affectation and real. Or maybe it was just one of the mysteries that enabled her to connect with the past. For a twenty-seven-old academic, she appeared to be completely oblivious of her power.
He’d stifled his laughter when Angela’s face screwed up with disgust as the waiter set down a plate of grilled squid served on a bed of mint flavored artichokes. But like the trouper she was, she tentatively nibbled on a tiny mo
rsel. Rapture filled her features and his heart pounded in reply. He’d bragged about this restaurant and seeing Angela’s face when she took that first bite was vindication that he’d made the right choice. If paradise lay on a plate, he’d sent her there.
By the time the spaghetti alle vongole, a specialty of the house, arrived, she was making such exuberant moans of delight, his pants tightened. “Do you really think it’s fair for you to show the same amount of ecstasy here as in the bedroom?”
“That’s not true and you know it. It’s just so good.” Her face flushed, as she reached for her water glass.
Her embarrassment is priceless.
“Besides, you’re the one who says you love watching me eat. I’m just showing my appreciation.” She tore off a chunk of bread and dunked it in the broth, popping it in her mouth. She chewed, her exaggerated moans making him shift in his seat.
“I guess I’ll just have to test you when we get back to the room. See which produces the most response, sex or food.”
“You do that,” she added, “You might have to work a little harder though, these clams are going to be hard to beat.”
Damn. Just when I think I can’t fall in deeper… “We don’t have to be at Lucrezia’s tomorrow until one o’clock. Do you think you might be up for a walk in the morning? That’s if you can walk after I’m done with you tonight. “I want to show you one of the best views in Rome. It’ll give us a chance to see a lot of the city and work up an appetite.”
Her eyes widened. “That would be amazing. Where are we going?”
“You’ll see when we get there. A guy has to have a couple of surprises up his sleeve.”
“Alex, you surprise me at every turn. Sometimes I feel like a country bumpkin. You’re so well-travelled, you’ve been everywhere.”
“Yeah, but I’ve always done everything alone. So, sharing it with you puts a whole new spin on it. It’s like discovering everything all over again. It gets me high seeing things through your eyes.”
When they finished their meal the sun was down, and Angela yawned.