“That’s so nice.” I sighed. The idea of it was beyond me, but this entire life felt like heaven after Matteo had found me.
A beam of sunlight fell between us, and we were both glowing. Yes, this felt like heaven, all right. Especially when our eyes connected, and it felt like we were both melting into each other. Like my body was absorbing his, and his mine. Like we would always carry each other within each other.
After a few minutes, after the intensity was making me…antsy, making me crave him until I could no longer ignore the ache, I reached out and touched his face. His eyes closed as my fingertips gently slid down the side of his face. I took a chance and leaned in and kissed him. Like before, the kiss started out gentle, but before long, I found myself on top of him, searching for the delicious friction I’d experienced the night before.
The night when he’d turned a girl into a woman.
His woman.
He groaned, a deep, beautiful sound, and then flipped me over. He took my wrists in his hands and stared at me before he gave me a quick kiss and then told me to get dressed. He stood from the bed and went to brush his teeth. I sat up a second later, watching him, almost dazed.
Why wasn’t he touching me? Wanting to be inside of me? Did he not want me anymore? He’d told me there were times he wanted me so badly, if he didn’t have me, he would die. I believed him. I felt the same way. It almost felt like an instinct that had been buried for centuries, and when our eyes had met that night, it came to the surface, because something inside of me had recognized something inside of him. It was deep, much deeper than anything I’d ever felt before, but again…it felt simple. Like I could understand it. Because it was an instinct we shared. This inborn tendency couldn’t exist unless him and I did—together.
Damn. I was in so deep with him. I knew it the first time our eyes met in that underground grave disguised as an exclusive club.
“Stella.”
I hadn’t realized I’d been staring at my hands until he called my name, and I looked up.
“Get. Dressed.”
“Okay.”
Following in his footsteps, I brushed my teeth, then I stood next to him and fixed my hair, applied a little makeup and scented body cream. I headed to the closet and chose a breezy summer dress. It was bright, falling below my ankles, and had a halter top. It was cool and moved easily with my body. Matteo sat me down and fastened on a pair of gold sandals. The straps snaked around my ankles. I spritzed some perfume on, and then Matteo took my hand and led me out of the room.
The men all straightened as we stepped out, nodding to us in a respectful way as we passed. For as young as Matteo was, it seemed second nature for him to control whatever room he walked into. He seemed to be born into the right family. He was going to be king someday, and I’d be his queen, the shining light in the darkness of his life.
The thought gave me pause even if my feet continued to move forward.
Would I always be enough for him? Would my love always shine bright enough to bring him out of his mind and lead him back to his heart? Maybe Matteo would be as feared as his grandfather someday—maybe he already was. Maybe he’d do some shady shit for the family “business.” Things I could never understand or do for family honor. He’d told me personal offenses, such as what the Nemours did to me, were different. For the family, it was business. But for me, it was personal, and he’d make them pay by draining their blood and feeding it to the devil. For all that darkness and violence, though, Matteo Fausti had a place in his heart made for love.
I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn’t noticed Matteo stopped a second before. I didn’t run into him like I expected, though. His hand snaked around my waist, and he pulled me in close, hip to hip. He put his finger to his mouth. He wanted me to be quiet.
Music drifted from the kitchen. Something soft and slow. His mom was at the stove, making eggs. His father was right behind her, maybe kissing her neck or breathing her in. They were swaying to the music, singing softly to each other. Then the music changed, and a faster song came on. Brando started to sing to Scarlett, and she started laughing, the sound full of helium, making it float.
Brando was way off tune and kept getting the lyrics wrong. Scarlett almost howled with laughter.
“Remember?” she said through happy tears. “Remember I was dancing like this?” And she moved her body, along with her arms, to the beat of the song. She started to sing it. She wasn’t all that in tune either, but she knew all the words.
“Age is a thief,” Brando said in a voice that reminded me so much of Matteo’s, except it was older, with more gravel. “But itcould never steal my memories of you, baby. Those are here.” It seemed like he wrapped his arms around her tighter, because she gasped. He set his chin on top of her head, but only to use it to push her head against his heart. “A place where they’ll never leave me.”
He turned her in his arms, and even though the music was fast, it was like a slow song played again. They gazed at each other, like something was moving between them too, connecting them for always. Tears ran down her cheeks. He closed his eyes, as if the sight of them pained him, then he kissed them as if to heal them.
“That’s…” I breathed, not even able to finish my thought.
Matteo brought my hand to his lips, and the warm air from his mouth washed over my skin. I met his eyes, and he leaned in and kissed the tears I hadn’t realized fell from my eyes. Quietly, as though we were intruders in a private memory, we left the villa. Not only was I an intruder, but I knew I’d always own a small piece of what I’d seen in that kitchen.
Love.
It was so strong I could feel it touching my skin like the sun that morning.
I could see it swaying to the music like two dancers who were life partners.
I could smell it in the air—something sweet and warm and filling, like bread just out of the oven.
I could see it in the faces of two lovers who wanted more than one lifetime together because that was how deep the connection ran between them.
I understood then what Matteo had meant when he said, “We met in heaven, and one day, we will reunite there again, never to part.”
