'My darling, my sweet love.'
He cradled her head in his arms, lifting her face up to him, and kissing her with such a sweet tenderness that she felt her heart would break.
He drew back, just a little, so he could look down into her eyes, and Luisa saw his face, alight with a happiness she would once not have believed possible.
'My darling,' his voice was roughened, 'I want so much for us. I want you to be happy, no more sadness. I want you to have my child, to feel it move, there, inside you…' He rested his hand gently across the soft swell of her stomach.
'I want that too, Julius.'
'Well then, come here.'
He drew her gently to the bed, and then, his hand shaking a little, reached to undo the fastening of her dress. But she stayed his hand.
'No,' she said softly. 'This time I will.'
Slowly, deliberately, she took off her clothes, until she stood in the dying light, quite naked before him. With a low groan he bent, kissing her offered breasts; knelt, and pressed his lips against the softness of her thighs. Then quickly, urgently, he took off his clothes and lay down beside her.
They lay quite still for a moment, not touching, and then, very slowly, he reached out and touched her, running his hand up over the long curves of her body, so she cried out with desire, moving to him.
'Luisa.' He kissed her, then they lay side by side, just touching, looking into each other's eyes.
'No more quarrels,' he said. 'No more lies. No more misunderstandings. Not between us, my darling.'
Luisa shook her head, then laughed, softly, her lips against his throat. Instantly he caught her, forcing her to look at him, his eyes fiercely suspicious.
'Why do you laugh? What are you thinking?'
'Nothing.' She looked at him teasingly. 'I just wondered if you were suggesting you'd never be angry…'
'Oh, why?'
His grip on her tightened.
'Because the Principessa told me what we should do if you were, that's all.'
'And what was that?'
'She said we should make love.'
'Only then?'
Julius shifted suddenly, so his weight was on her, his eyes mocking her, imprisoning her in his arms.
'Well, perhaps not only then…'
'I'm not angry now.'
'No. Still…' She parted her lips to his mouth, her thighs, languorously, sweetly, to his touch.
'Still,' he said, kissing her. 'Still, Luisa.'
But she trembled, even so, as her body filled with the peace of his possession.
'Still,' she said, her lips against his throat. 'Always. Oh, my darling!'
The Devil's Advocate Page 22