Luckily, Stellan proposes the perfect antidote to my exhaustion. A whole weekend at a house on the coast, a two hour drive from Copenhagen. We’ll be by ourselves in a mansion…
Yeah, it doesn’t sound too shabby. I just have to shove down all myworking class girljudgments to enjoy it. Without really taking any time to think it through, I tell Stellan yes.
Two hours later, we are so close to the ocean that I can actually smell the salt in the air. As we pull through the trees, the ocean is just right there, down a sandy beach. I sit up as we pull around to a gray, three story mansion house.
The second we stop, Stellan is out of the driver’s side. “Look at it!” He points to the gray sea, grinning as he opens the car’s trunk. “I could stare at that all day.”
I climb out of the car, squinting at the coastline. A gust of wind takes me by surprise and blows up the back of my short black dress. I squeal and smooth my dress down.
Stellan grins at me. “You might as well get naked, because I plan on being au naturel all weekend.”
A shiver of excitement runs down my spine at his words. I don’t want him to just assume that I am game for anything, although I mostly am. I shoot him a look. “We’ll see.”
He grabs me and hauls me up against his frame, kissing me hard until I’m just a little breathless. Then he lets me go and picks up the suitcases. “Come on. Wait until you see the inside of this house.”
I follow Stellan up the neatly manicured tan brick path into the house. As I step inside, my eyes widen. I look around at the foyer, which is painted with the most amazing mural of a river with nymphs playing around it. There is no furniture here, just this delicate and detailed portrayal painted on the walls.
“What… what is this?” I say, noticing something new every second I keep staring around.
He grins. “Apparently one of my relatives holed themselves up in this house for several years. This was the result.”
“Whoa.” I move closer to the wall, squinting to make out the detail in one of the nymphs. “This is amazing.”
“Wait until you see the living room,” he says, nodding his head toward it. “I’m going to go upstairs and drop our things in the master bedroom.”
He heads off up a staircase. Nodding absently, I follow the hallway back, taking the first doorway that opens to the left. Inside I find no furniture to speak of. Instead there is light that pours in from the floor length windows, illuminating another breathtakingly detailed painting.
It depicts a plain-looking building, maybe Greek or Roman in design. A robed woman who carries a basket of bread is in the center of the painting. A burst of sunlight shines down on her, signifying that perhaps she is chosen by god. She hands pieces of bread to a flock of ratty looking children, some of whom are crying upon receiving their ration. And the look on the woman’s gently lined face… it is so sorrowful, it actually makes my chest seize up.
Stellan comes to lean against the doorframe, ducking a little as he enters the room. “Amazing, isn’t it?”
I move closer to the wall, in awe. “It’s so lifelike. And her expression… you can tell that whoever did this has felt exactly that kind of sadness before.”
“Ja. Apparently it is St. Agathe, feeding the children of Carthage.” He wrinkles up his face. “After the museum, I got the idea to come here. There are loads more paintings in every room. But this one is really good.”
“Who did this painting?” I murmur.
He shrugs. “I think a great aunt, several times removed? I don’t know. Someone crazy.”
I frown at him over my shoulder. “That’s a cruel thing to say.”
He rolls his eyes just a little and shrugs again. “Come.Let’s go into the kitchen. There is a happier painting in there. It’s gold and jeweled, apparently inspired by a Fabergé egg.”
He turns and heads down the hallway, expecting me to follow. And I do… but I cast a glance over my shoulder as I leave the room. St. Agathe looks back at me, her eyes so full of sadness that it makes my heart break.
That will stay with me for a good long while, I think.
Stellan shows me a few more paintings, then takes me upstairs to the master bedroom. To my surprise there is no mural waiting for us in here. The walls are robin’s egg blue, the room dominated by a giant four poster bed with crisp linens.
He pulls me onto the bed, his blue eyes lit with lust and hunger. He kisses me passionately, already tugging my dress up and over my head. He tosses it to the side without a second thought. I toe my shoes off, sighing as he kisses my neck.
“Fuck,” he mutters, sliding his gaze up to meet my own. “Do you realize how fucking beautiful you are,skatter?”
My cheeks turn pink. Under his relentless gaze, I feel soseen, the opposite of invisible.
“No,” I breathe. His look is so direct and frank, so honest. It sears me from the inside out.
When he speaks again, it’s as much a worshipful promise as it is a compliment.
