by Serena Grey
“I think I know just the place.” He pauses long enough to say before starting to kiss me again.”
“I thought we were going out for dinner,” I ask breathlessly, when we stop for air.
“Forget dinner.” He says, his lips dipping to my breasts, and in a few moments, I have.
~§~§~§~§~
In the morning, David is in his study arranging our trip, while Mrs. Daniels and I pack a few clothes.
He has refused to tell me where we’re going. Even when I asked him what I should pack. “Just a few things,” He’d replied, “You’re not going to be dressed most of the time.”
I’ve succeeded in pushing all thoughts of Carole Banks to the back of my mind. I don’t want to think about her, or about the NDA. I don’t want anything to ruin my happiness.
“Won’t you tell me where we’re going?” I ask David later, as Steve drives us to the airport.
“I like to keep you guessing.” He replies. He’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, with a black leather jacket, he looks so young and cool, I have to hold myself back from slobbering all over him. We pass through cursory security checks at the airport, after which we go out to his plane, which is waiting for us on the runway. I feel like a star as I stroll to the plane, hands linked with David’s, my halter neck dress flowing in the breeze, my eyes covered by wide sunshades.
A pilot and steward greet us as we enter the plane. The interior is luxurious. The main cabin is superbly furnished with comfortable looking couches, and well placed coffee tables. There is also a private bedroom, with a bathroom and closet space.
We take off after an immigration official comes to check our passports. I give him my new passport, still unable to believe how quickly it was prepared. An agent arrived in the apartment in the morning with some forms, and watched me fill and sign them. A few hours later, the passport arrived by courier.
The plane sails smoothly through the air. If not for the puffy white clouds I can see through the windows, I can actually forget that we’re flying. I stretch happily, taking sips from the glass of white wine the steward serves me.
“It must be exciting travelling like this all the time.” I tell David.
He looks up from the newspaper he’s reading and shrugs. “Yeah, probably.”
I roll my eyes at his nonchalance, and he gives me a teasing smile.
I spent the next few minutes bugging him about where we are going. When I finally fall asleep, he still hasn’t given me any clues.
When I wake up a couple of hours later, I’m lying in David’s arms on the bed in the private cabin. He must have undressed me, because I’m only wearing one of his t-shirts and my panties. Beside me, he is asleep.
The cabin is dark, but I can see his face in the faint light of dawn stealing in through the windows. I trace a finger along his chin, marveling at how handsome he looks while sleeping, boyish, careless, and relaxed, with his thick hair tousled and all over the place.
His wakes up and stares at me groggily for a moment before the film of sleep clears from his eyes.
“I hope I haven’t grown horns.” He says.
If only he knew. “You’re still not going to tell me where we are going?’
He shakes his head and pulls me toward him until I’m lying on top of him.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m getting impatient.”
In response, he pulls my face down and kisses me. “I can distract you.” He offers, grabbing my butt and rolling until he’s on top of me. I start to laugh, but he silences me with his lips, kissing me until laughing is the farthest thing from my mind. He makes slow love to me, taking his time as he initiates me to the pleasures of the mile-high club.
A few hours later, the plane lands in Italy. We shower in the small but well equipped private bathroom, and get ready to disembark. As we go through customs, I discover that David speaks flawless Italian. He’ll probably never stop surprising me. I decide.
“How many languages do you speak?” I ask him, curious.
He grimaces slightly. “A few,” He tells me. “French, Italian, enough of Russian and Spanish to have a sensible conversation.”
I’m staring at him, mouth open, “and that’s a few?”
He winks. “I know, I’m incredible.”
I giggle at his words, allowing him to lead me out of the airport.
We’ve landed in Florence. It’s very early in the morning, so the city is still asleep as the black SUV that picks us at the airport drives through it. We travel through the countryside with me dozing on David’s shoulder. It’s just getting light when we arrive at our destination.
The car drives through a pair of wrought iron gates, and down a paved driveway, which ends in a circular cul-de-sac, with a stone fountain in the middle. The house beyond the driveway is a stunningly beautiful villa. In the early light, I can see the tiled terracotta colored walls, elegant white-painted stone arches, and the lawns that surround it, bounded by groves of trees.
I step out of the car, marveling. I turn to David. “Do you own this place?” I ask.
“We own this place.” He replies, making my heart expand. He takes my hand, and we walk inside the house hand in hand.
Inside, it is charmingly furnished and spacious, with French windows leading to outside terraces from almost every room on the ground floor. Upstairs, our bedroom has a marble bathroom and an attached study. I gaze out of the windows at the countryside as the orange light of morning comes over the hills. It’s too beautiful for words.
“You are too rich.” I accuse him.
“I think that’s an oxymoron.” I turn to him and see that he is teasing. I laugh softly, and he joins in my merriment. Suddenly I feel so incredibly happy.
I go into the circle of his arms. “I hope you’re not tired.”
“I’m not.” His eyes twinkle, as he leans back to look into my face. “Why?”
“Because I have a burning desire to make love to my husband, in our beautiful villa in Italy.”
“I’m never too tired to fulfill your desires.” He says capturing my lips in a lush kiss. We sink unto the bed, oblivious to anything else but the pleasure we know we can give each other.
Chapter Six
THE NEXT TWO WEEKS ARE THE height of bliss. The villa is fully staffed and stocked for our arrival. There is a cook, a maid, and a gardener, all Italian. They don’t speak a word of English between them, so David does most of the talking. The first evening, we have dinner in the small town closest to us, and attend a Puccini opera about a Japanese girl in the turn of the century Japan, who kills herself out of love for an American soldier. I leave the opera crying even though I didn’t understand any of the Italian words.
We also visit the marble caves where Michelangelo is supposed to have gotten the stone for his famous sculptures. Some days, we drive to Florence in the Audi Convertible David has in the garage, where we visit galleries, museums, and landmarks, enjoying the experience of being anonymous tourists, as we walk around hand in hand, dressed casually in jeans, t-shirts, and sunglasses.
A few afternoons, David has to take long phone calls from the office. I try not to mind, because I know how busy he is. Luckily, I brought my sketchpad along, so while he works, I draw.
“So I’m going to be one of those men married to famous artists,” David teases me one day, looking over my shoulder at my work.
“Maybe I’ll be so successful, you’ll have to quit your job and let me support you.”
He laughs as he looks through my finished drawings. “A life of ease,” He says musingly. “I ought to take you up on that.”
Towards the end of the first week, we have a visitor, a charming Italian called Carlo Marconi, he lives near Florence, and was at Harvard with David. He arrives for lunch with his wife and two small children, and we eat on the terrace overlooking the lawns and the trees that stretch as far as the nearby town. After lunch, while the children run around playing, David and Carl
o exchange stories of their college days, and a summer spent in Italy with Carlo’s family. Carlo’s wife Gina and I laugh cheerfully at their stories, but I can’t take my eyes off my husband, I have never seen this side of him. He looks so relaxed.
“You two look happy.” Gina tells me, in lightly accented English. “David especially, I have not seen him like this before.” She pauses. “You are good for him.”
And he is good for me, I think in silence. “I’m glad you think so.” I reply.
She shrugs. “Love can change anyone.” She states, smiling at me. The children are demanding to be let into the pool. I smile back at her as we go to prepare them for a swim.
~§~§~§~§~
Back in Seattle, David has work to catch up on, I don’t mind. My life feels charmed. Even though he still hasn’t said anything about love, I feel more secure and happy in our relationship. I feel loved, and that means a lot to me.
I seem to have made a lot of friends in my absence, probably due to the fact that there has finally been an announcement in the newspapers about our wedding. While David leaves immediately for work, Mrs. Daniel’s cheerfully hands me my mail, mostly invitations, requesting my presence at a variety of events.
I go through them, wondering which ones to accept and which ones to put under consideration. At times like these, a girl needs her mother or her mother in law. I’m thinking of calling David’s mother when my phone rings.
“Hey.” It’s David. Even after two weeks when I’ve had him all to myself, the sound of his voice can still turn my insides to liquid.
“Hey.” I reply.
“Would you like to go to this charity thing tonight?” He asks, “A dinner to raise money for the alliance for education.”
“Oh!” I look through my invites again. “I have an invitation for that.” It says black tie, evening dress. Hmm.
“Yes, that makes sense.” He pauses. “So, do I get to show you off tonight?”
My heart flutters in my chest. “Of course.”
“Good,” he chuckles, “see you around seven.”
After we talk, I go through my new clothes, trying to choose something to wear. I finally decide on a pale blue strapless gown with a sweetheart neckline, which hugs my figure all the way to my thighs, and then flares softly to my feet. The label has the name of a very famous designer. It’s probably insanely expensive, I think, as I lay it out on the bed, but it’s also incredibly beautiful.
I shower and blow-dry my hair, brushing it until it is a soft, wavy mass around my shoulders. I use a thick strand to secure it into a loose ponytail at the nape of my neck, and then sweep the mass of hair over my shoulder.
My makeup is simple, mainly because I don’t want to make a mistake and end up looking scary. By the time David arrives from work, I’m almost ready, all that’s left is to take off my silk dressing robe and put on my underwear and dress.
I revel in the look of appreciation he gives me when he walks into the apartment. He pulls me to him, careful not to mess up my make-up. “How much damage will I do if I kiss you?” He asks, his fingers finding my nipples through the silk dressing gown.
I’m not sure I care, I’d let him damage my make up whenever he wants. “A lot.” I murmur, trying to be sensible. We don’t have time for this.
He unties the knot holding my dressing gown together. ‘Too bad,” He murmurs, “because I’ve been thinking of this all day.”
“While you should have been working?” My laugh sounds a little breathless, maybe because his fingers have found my nipples again. “What will the shareholders think of that?”
“Who cares?” his voice is husky as he lifts me, wrapping my legs around his waist. I wrap my arms around his neck, reveling in the hardness of his erection pressing against me as he carries me to our room.
He sits on the bed, narrowly avoiding wrinkling my dress. I’m straddling him, my knees on the bed. While he removes his jacket and loosens his tie, I eagerly undo his trousers. When he springs free of the restraint of his clothes, I sigh softly, and wrap my fingers around him, stroking him up and down. He groans and grabs my hips, lifting me until I’m poised over him, wet and ready, then I lower myself unto him, letting out a low moan as he fills me.
He braces his hands on the mattress while I hold on to his shoulders, and starts to thrust into me with an intensity that is both surprising and extremely arousing. It feels so good. I tighten my arms around him, pressing my heaving breasts to his face. He sucks on my nipples, his pace never slowing. My climax is raw and forceful. I scream his name, weak and trembling, as I lose control of my body. Vaguely, I feel him stiffen inside me, and hear his groan as he comes.
I hold on to him, sweaty and satisfied. We’re both breathing deeply. Sighing, he lifts me off him and sets me on my shaking legs.
“We still have an event to attend.” He says regretfully, his eyes on my exposed body.
I have to fight the urge to climb back onto his lap. “Yes, we do,” I try to frown disapprovingly through my haze of pleasure, “and I’m sure you’ve ruined my makeup.
I go to the bathroom to clean up, and then back to the dressing table to smooth my hair and get my make up back in order. David has disappeared into the dressing room to get ready. While he changes, I retrieve my dress and underwear from the bed and put them on. I’m about to zip the dress up when I feel David’s strong hands on my back. He fastens the zip and steps back to look at me.
“You look lovely.” He says.
I can see the admiration in his eyes, and it warms me from inside. He looks magnificent, in a black tux, and a dark grey tie. Even though he has just brought me to an earth-shattering climax, I am overwhelmed by the strong wave of desire that passes through me.
“You look wonderful too.” I murmur, it’s strange how even though we’re married he can make me feel like a fifteen year old in the presence of her first crush.
He smiles at the compliment. “I have something for you,” he tells me, taking my hand and pulling me towards the dressing table. He gestures for me to sit and as I do, I notice a black velvet box on the table. Before I have time to wonder what’s in it, he opens it to reveal a beautiful earring and necklace set.
It looks very familiar. I frown, turning to look at him. “Is this...?”
“Your design?” he interrupts, he is studying my face intently, as if he’s wondering if I’ll like it. “Yes.”
I stare at the sparkling diamond arrangement, mouth open. “But, how did you...?”
I made a copy of one of your sketches and sent it off to a jeweler while we were in Italy.” He says, fastening the necklace around my neck as I watch him in the mirror. It’s more beautiful than I could have imagined it, even while I drew it. I sigh softly. “It’s so beautiful.”
“You’re a rich man’s wife.’ He says without conceit, “It’s normal for you to have beautiful things.”
I would have preferred him to say something more romantic, but I stifle the thought. I don’t want to be ungrateful. I put on the earrings, watching them twinkle in the light. They really are gorgeous.
Steve drives us to the event, characteristically silent as he maneuvers the evening traffic. He drops us off in front of the brilliantly lit entrance of an upscale hotel. There are a few pressmen standing outside and one or two flashbulbs go off. I try not to flinch from the sudden bursts of light as David leads me inside, his hand at my back.
At the door to what looks like a grand ballroom, a smiling blonde woman in a flowing, cream silk gown comes to meet us.
“David,” She smiles in greeting, kissing both his cheeks, I guess her to be anywhere between her forties and sixties. She looks beautiful, with a well-preserved figure and glowing skin. She turns to me. “You must be the beautiful Sophie.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks me over, “I’ve only recently heard about you, you know. David has been keeping you a terrible secret.” She laughs, “Aren’t you a pretty thing though.”
I turn to David, not sure what to say. He looks fa
intly amused by the woman’s chattering. “Sophie sweetheart,” he says with a slight smile, “this exceptionally beautiful lady is the incomparable Peggy Hart.”
Her name registers in my head. Her husband was Simon Hart, a recently deceased software billionaire, she is one of the richest women in the country, and a passionate philanthropist.
“I’m very honored to meet you.” I say sincerely.
She dimples. “Thank you darling.” She says, kissing my cheek. She turns to David and snorts playfully, “I’m not even going to respond to your flattery.”
He laughs as she leads the way into the room, which is filled with men in tuxedos and women in evening dresses. A low hum of conversation fills the room, as well as the sound of glasses clinking, and silvery laughter of the women.
“Your table is over there.” She says to David, pointing him in the right direction.
We’re stopped at least five times before we get to our table. I watch David socialize, feeling the effects of his magnetic personality. He pays attention to people, but always remains somehow aloof. It makes them more eager to get his attention. But it’s not their attention he wants, I decide, he really just prefers to stand alone.
Where does that leave me?
Our table seats about twelve. David pulls out a seat for me and takes the one beside it. I feel everybody’s eyes on me as we take our seats. They must be curious about me, I realize, I wonder what they’re thinking.
The table is almost completely filled, with only two empty seats. We arrived late, so dinner is already being served. As we eat, David converses quietly with the man on his other side, I recognize him as Leon Boise, a website entrepreneur. I’ve seen his picture while reading the news on my tablet.
As I eat, I play a game of adding names to the faces around me. I only recognize a few, politicians, businessmen, internet pioneers. I have to try not to be intimidated by it all.
After dinner, someone goes up to the podium and after a short applause starts to give a speech about the importance of literacy. As I toy with the program on the table in front of me, I see that one of the sponsors is Preston Corp. I was right, I decide, David will never cease to surprise me.
