by Michele Hauf
"Sit," he offered, gesturing to the red velvet cushion at the back of the boat that would seat two people snuggly.
A lantern hung at the head of the gondola, lighting the gondolier's smiling face and illuminating his nod to both of them. Jane noticed smaller candles near the seat she shared with Marcello but she had no means to light them, and she was too distracted by the press of his body alongside hers to care about a little light.
"Where are we going?" she asked, turning to take in the receding walls of the nearby buildings lining the canal as the boat slid smoothly through the dark waters.
"Everywhere. But what I want you to see is further up that way. It's a surprise."
"I do love surprises. Just the good ones, of course. Because you know, sometimes, a surprise can be awful, even ugly."
"I shall endeavor to only surprise you with the good."
As the gondola cut through the dark waters, Marcello pointed out the larger buildings and who lived in them. Some housed earls and dignitaries. And he seemed to know them all. Was it too much of a stretch to believe he may be royalty? He had avoided that question earlier. She wouldn't press. But what an adventure she had fit herself into!
Jane relaxed into the seat and told herself it was perfectly fine to want to snuggle against the handsome man. Yet seated beside his overwhelming male presence and strength, she actually felt lightheaded. A bit out of sorts.
Was it because her hands felt as warm as her furiously pounding heart? Her neck tingled with a teasing heat. And when she thought about it, the secret place between her thighs ached with a shimmer of…was that desire?
It had been a long time since she'd felt longing for a man. Had she ever really felt the abandon of sexual need? Perhaps not. And recognizing the feeling surprised her. So she didn't realize she sighed aloud when she did.
Marcello leaned closer to her, and just when she thought he'd kiss her, he whispered, "Look now."
At that moment, the gondola turned a corner into a narrow canal lined with houses that framed the bright, full, white moon. Jane gasped and clasped her hands together. But Marcello did not move away from her, and she was very aware that her body ached for his touch.
"You wanted me to see that?" she asked with wonder.
"Yes, la luna."
"She's so lovely. Like a painting. You've given me another gift, Signore Sebastiani. Your kindness is overwhelming."
"It is nothing. Now, I'm going to give you something you might not construe as kind or a gift."
"What would that be?"
He bowed toward her. She knew the kiss was coming and managed a surprised peep before his mouth fell onto hers, silencing her nervous protest.
The kiss captured her breath and stole her sigh. Hot, firm, and questing, his mouth quickly taught hers to follow. And as he parted her lips with his tongue, Jane's heartbeats thundered. The heat of a blush swooshed through every part of her being. She was thankful for the dark as her nipples hardened against her dress. Oh, but the ache between her legs was so delicious. She'd never before felt such instant and immediate desire from a kiss.
Marcello's wide, strong hand caressed her jaw, turning her completely toward him until she leaned back against the seat cushion as he loomed over her. The kiss continued. Leading her. Taking from her. And she willingly surrendered to him.
He pulled back and brushed the hair from her cheek. "What's wrong, Jane? I've not known you to be at a loss for words."
"If I say less, then you can kiss me more."
"Indeed," he mumbled as he tilted his mouth to take her from another angle. "You smell like summer. And your breasts…"
His hand slid down to cover one of the mounds in question, and Jane's back stiffened. Yet his kiss coaxed her to again relax, to let the touch happen. And when his fingers pinched her nipple through the fabric, she moaned into the kiss, and her back arched her chest forward. As if to demand more from his commanding touch.
"The gondolier will see," she protested quietly.
"He's half blind."
"Half— But how is he navigating?"
"Does it matter? He hasn't steered us into a wall yet. Do you want to argue about the man's eyesight, or would you prefer I do this?"
He kissed between her breasts and lashed his tongue over the heated skin. Jane sighed. "Oh, mercy, this is…" But she couldn't finish the protest because his kiss told her to be quiet. And then his hand roamed to her other nipple, giving it a firm pinch. This time, she felt it all the way to her core, where she warmed and squeezed her thighs together. She was growing so wet. "Yes…"
"Jane, you kiss very well for…a young woman."
"I've had a bit of practice with my husband—oh!"
The big man reared back from her. Even in the darkness, she could see his eyes glint. Like a beast disturbed.
Jane clutched her hands before her breasts. "Oh, dear."
His jaw dropped open. "You're married?"
At that moment, the gondola jerked as the boat clattered up against a dock. Jane looked up. They'd arrived at his palazzo.
"Help me out." She stood, avoiding the dangerous question that burned in Marcello's eyes like flames.
He helped her, and when she landed on solid ground, she started immediately for the covered hallway that led to the palazzo door.
Marcello stayed behind, handing coin over to the gondolier. Yet when he called out to her, she quickened her steps, racing through the dark marble halls and up to the second floor where she closed her chamber door and pressed her back up against it.
"What is it?" Prudence stood before the blazing hearth fire, holding a teacup. Her eyes widened with worry.
"I think I may have spoiled my chance at coaxing the signore to be my patron."
Chapter 4
Her husband?
Oh, no. She'd been flirting with him since the moment he'd discovered her in the dead man's home. What kind of conniving game was the woman playing? He knew there was a reason why he did not like the English!
Marcello stomped through the dark hallways of his home and up to the second floor, where he pounded a fist against Jane's chamber door and demanded she see him.
The door swung open, and Prudence stepped out, closing it firmly behind her. The maid lifted an impertinent chin. "Is there a problem, Signore Sebastiani?"
"I need to speak to Jane—er, Miss Emery."
"She's indisposed at the moment."
"She just got in two minutes before I did. She may not want to speak to me, but she will. Now step aside."
"I don't think so, Signore Sebastiani."
"Prudence." Marcello narrowed his eyes at the woman. "If I have to physically move you out of the way, I will."
To her credit, the woman bravely raised her chin and met his gaze with an impressively defiant look.
So Marcello clutched her shoulders and upper arms, lifted her, and set her aside. He gripped the door pull and opened it, then leaned back and admonished, "No listening at the door."
With that, he slammed it shut behind him and turned the key in the lock. He could sense the maid standing outside, could pick up the scent of tea on her... "Leave, Prudence!"
A few seconds passed, then he heard the shuffle of the maid's feet as she moved away from the room.
"Jane?" He searched the chambers and spied her over by the window, clutching the draperies, looking every bit the tiny prey she must feel. But he was in no mood to play games with her now. "You are married? Why did you allow me to kiss you? Come over here. Speak to me."
With a heavy sigh, she walked over, and then with a dramatic thrust of her wrist against her forehead, landed on the tufted ottoman before the end of the bed.
He sat beside her. "Are you married?"
"I am," she confessed, then quickly added, "But I am not in love."
How often were married couples in love? Rarely, he knew that.
"What kind of game are you playing? Have you run away from your husband? Does he know you are in Venice? Jane, I kissed you."
"You don't seem like the type of man to regret any kiss. Neither would I imagine married, not married, or even widowed would be an issue for you."
It was not. Generally. But for some reason, learning that Jane was married to another man made him…jealous. Marcello gripped her chin. Yet when he tilted her head to look at him, she pushed his chest, releasing the hold, and stood up.
"Do not try to control me!" she said forcefully. "I've had enough of that!" And then, with a sigh, she turned away from him, and her shoulders dropped. "Forgive me," she said in a tiny voice. "You've only been kind to me. And I wanted you to kiss me. I've never been kissed like that. It was lovely. I should wish it again, but—oh, I do go on!"
Lifting her arms to the heavens, she strode to the center of the room.
As far as a stage play went, Marcello felt she deserved applause. But he could also empathize with the sensitivity of the situation. Had her husband never kissed her as if he wanted her? That was criminal.
"I ran away from him." Jane turned to him, arms crossing over her chest in a comforting hug. "I asked for a divorce, but he refused. And because he told my family, they kicked me out and wouldn't give me a place to stay. They all blame me for something… Oh, bother."
"For what? Why would a woman ask her husband for a divorce when she knows she will be ostracized?"
Her eyes sought something in his. And Marcello felt the connection clutch at his heart. He swallowed. All instincts warning him against getting involved were ignored as he approached her. He wanted to kiss her again, to chase away the fear in her eyes, but he thought better of it.
"He beats me," Jane finally said. "Often." Grasping the neckline of her dress by the shoulder, she tugged it aside to reveal a scar as long as his finger above her breast.
Marcello swore and then touched the rough skin. "Bloody hell. Your husband did this to you? I'll kill him!"
Jane shook her head and pushed up her sleeve. "Now you are being as dramatic as I."
"I am being truthful. No man has a right to harm a woman. No man!" When he saw her trembling lip, he ceased his loud rant and instead took her into his arms. "I am glad you were able to get away from him. Does he know you are in Venice?"
"No." She sniffled against his shoulder. "I do not think so. I hope not. I lied to you about being robbed. It was a story Prudence and I concocted should we need it. I had no money and but the few things I could gather in my trunks when I left home. I simply fled."
"What brought you to Venice?"
"A few years ago, while visiting Charlestown, Signore Ricci offered to be my patron, but my husband refused, saying music was of the devil. So I had hopes Signore Ricci would remember me and…you know how that went. I am lost, Marcello. I have no place to go but back to my husband. And I will not do that."
"No, you won't. And you are not lost. You've a home here for as long as you need it."
"That is far too generous."
He pushed his fingers through her hair and bowed to kiss her. Firmly. But also gently. He could not allow her to feel fear. Ever. It was a kiss to let her know he was a man who would give her only pleasure. Would never harm her. She deserved that.
"I want to give you pleasure, Jane. To show you that not all men are cruel. And I will."
He lifted her and set her on the bed. Kissing her lips, he reveled in her sigh and stole her breath. Her body trembled against his. Wanting fingers clutched at his shirt. This woman needed to know her strength—through bliss.
* * *
Jane did not resist as Marcello lifted her onto the bed and bowed to kiss her. Slow and lingering, his kisses gentled the anxiety that had risen upon confessing her marital woes. Now she could not think of that other man, the cruel one. For her body demanded the wickedness that Marcello's kiss teased at.
He trailed his kisses down her neck and paid due attention to the tops of her breasts. She wished he would pull down the fabric and take a nipple into his mouth, but his hot breath hushing over her curves provided so much sensation. All parts of her tensed and then relaxed as her muscles reacted to his heat teasing over her skin. She gripped the bed coverlet and closed her eyes. Her shoulders pressed into the mattress, causing her breasts to lift. Opening herself to what he offered.
He wanted to give her pleasure? She would take it all, willingly. She desired it. She needed it. Because she had never known pleasure such as what Marcello promised her now.
"I want to show you how exquisite it can feel to have a man's attentions," he said. "But I won't take you completely. Not tonight. There is plenty of time to get to know one another. I want you to trust me, Jane."
"I…do…" she said with a sigh. But really, she wasn't sure what she felt about him; she only knew that his hands gliding over her body must not stop.
So when her dress skirt shushed and the petticoat slid up to reveal her legs and shoes, she gasped and lifted her head. He was starting at the wrong end of her. Yes? What would he do to her?
A hot, wide hand glided down her bare thigh to her knee where her ribboned stockings ended. He bit the ribbon, tugging the bow free. The fine silk slinked down her calf and pooled above her delicate, blue satin shoe.
A kiss landed aside her knee, as light as a feather, but it ignited a wicked want within Jane. Oh, yes, he could kiss her there, and…and on her thigh. His touch moved upward, slowly, taking his time, measuring the moments with mouth and breath against skin.
"Oh…"
When his breath whispered over her bare loins, Jane moaned. Surprising herself with that wanton utterance, she slapped a hand over her mouth. She had never taken to wearing bulky underdrawers in the summer and fall months. And she'd never expected her immodesty to be betrayed…so wonderfully.
Marcello's chuckle preceded his eyes appearing over the crumpled folds of her dress. His head of dark, wild hair was right there. Between her legs. In such an intimate position. Where no man had been before. What were his intentions?
"I said I need you to trust me, Jane, and this will take some trust on your part. But I promised you pleasure. So are you game for this adventure, or are you not?"
Not was the word that a good, respectable woman should utter. It teased at the tip of Jane's tongue, yet she felt the furthest from respectable at that moment. A married woman having an affair with a handsome man?
"Yes, please," she gasped.
"Good girl."
A tickle of hot breath slid up her thigh and moved closer to the junction of her legs. Her "dark place,” as her husband had referred to it. She didn't like the term. It sounded nasty, evil even.
Oh, mercy, she felt Marcello's lips brush high on her thigh. Shimmering heat radiated from her groin and spun in a glowing ball right there, in her core. She wanted to reach down and…not stop him, but rather encourage him to continue. What a brazen thought!
But he moved slowly, his lips seeming to map out her skin. He kissed and licked from one thigh, up along and over her nether curls and to the other thigh. Just avoiding her center, which was rapidly growing warm and, oh, so wet. Mercy, she'd never felt so sensual, so much like a woman. Had her seduction skills wrought this? Had she lured this man to her? What skills she must possess!
Reveling in her triumph, Jane stretched her arms up over her head and curled her fingers into a plush pillow.
"Jane, you smell so sweet. I'm going to taste you deeply."
Should she reply to that? No, a bold, wanton woman such as she would close her eyes and enjoy. Because for as awkward and unsure as she felt lying there with a man's head between her legs, she felt equally powerful and even a little aggressive.
The man's fingers stroked through her curls, and when they parted her nether lips, he moaned deeply. Deep and rumbly, the sound was as if an erotic touch to her skin. He was pleased? That buoyed her confidence even more.
When his hot tongue intruded on her wetness, Jane gasped. Her entire body tensed, but one of Marcello's hands slid over her thigh, clutching and holding her securely. "Let this
happen, Jane."
Sucking in the corner of her lip, she nodded silently and closed her eyes. Yes, she would allow it. Because she wanted this.
He slicked his tongue along her opening, dancing it slowly, tracing and tasting, and then he nudged into her deeply. Oh, dear. Respectable women certainly did not allow a man to do such a thing! Yet with another bold moan birthed from her very being, she yearned for release, her jaw relaxing as did her body. The sensations he stirred up with his tongue were was so new and delicious.
"I like this," she murmured without thinking.
"I know you do. You are lush and wet. So ready for my fingers. But…not yet."
The slide of his tongue over her swollen nub pulled up a cry of surprise from Jane. He suckled her slowly. Her fingers clenched at the bed cover. And he did not relent, dashing his firm tongue over the part of her that felt as if it were swelling, pulsing, and sending out vibrations through her entire body. Sweet mercy, what was that?
As her whole body seemed to awaken, she gasped and tilted her head back. Something exquisite roiled at the very heart of her. Her thighs trembled, and her breasts rose and fell in anticipation of…
And with one firm dash of her lover's tongue, the coil of sensation washed through her body and pulled Jane along in its wake. She cried out loudly and arched her back. Waves of bliss tumbled through her from groin to stomach to her breasts, and out to her fingertips and even her toes. She'd never felt anything like it. Never known…
"What was that?" she gasped in a pleasure-roughened tone.
Marcello glided up along her body and kissed her breasts, easing himself alongside her. "Don't tell me that you've never had an orgasm before? Not from your husband?"
She shook her head, smiling with joy, and panting as the waves of sensation still shimmered in her very bones. "He always told me it was the man's right, not the woman's."
"Oh, Jane." He kissed her neck and nuzzled his head against her shoulder. "Let's set aside your musical instruction for a bit. I have much to teach you about the pleasures all women should know."
Chapter 5
