Once Found: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  She put her hand over Gabe’s. “I have to agree.”

  Gabe looked into her eyes, and for a moment, nothing existed but the two of them. The bond of love he felt fed his soul. He smiled. “Well, I think all of the Soldanis are nice,” he cast a pointed look at Nick. “Most of the time.”

  ~ * ~

  When they were back at Gabe’s apartment that night getting ready for bed, Nick’s initial reaction to her weighed heavily on Elsie. Finally, she asked, “Is your whole family going to hate me because of the way we broke up?”

  “No, of course not.

  “Just your brothers?”

  “No, Elizabeth. And I’m really sorry about the things Nick said.”

  “It’s okay. He loves you, and I’ve hurt you in the past. Having someone stand up to protect you…it’s a wonderful thing. I haven’t had that in a while.” Elsie thought of her life in the thirteenth century. Who did she have there? Aunt Dolina. Perhaps Geordie. No parents or army of brothers and sisters.

  He pulled her into his arms. “You have it now, sweetheart.”

  Actually, Elizabeth has it now. “I know. I just wanted to be sure about your family. Forewarned is forearmed.”

  “It won’t happen again. It’s just that Nick, Joey, and I are really close. I think they were the only ones who fully understood how upset I was. I guess Nick never believed me when I said I ended the relationship. He always thought it was you who left me. We straightened a lot of things out tonight. I’m sorry you were hurt in the process.”

  “I wasn’t hurt.”

  Gabe arched an eyebrow at her.

  “Okay, I was a little hurt, but once I understood that he was just looking out for you…that made it better.”

  Gabe kissed her. “Still, I’m sorry it happened.”

  “And you don’t think Joe will be as irritated?”

  Gabe snorted. “Joe? You don’t have to worry about Joe. He’s the forgiving type.”

  Chapter 17

  When he was alone with Elizabeth, Gabe thought of her as an ordinary person, just as he had in college before graduation. But when she had returned from shopping with her mother, who had spent more on one or two articles of clothing for Elizabeth than his mother and sister would spend in a whole year, he was reminded that she wasn’t ordinary.

  This hit home again on Sunday night when they went to dinner at the Sinclairs’ penthouse.

  Up until it was time to leave, it had been a quiet, ordinary day. They had gone to an early Mass. She still insisted she was Catholic, but asked why the statue of Mary was holding a string of beads. How could she not know what a rosary was?

  After Mass, they stopped for bagels before going to a flea market in Brooklyn. It was her first ride on a subway, and just as it had been with elevators and cars, she was a little in awe once she got over her initial trepidation.

  She had loved the flea market. And to his surprise, when a vintage marcasite and garnet cross caught her eye, she haggled with the vendor.

  That evening, when they were getting ready to leave, she once again donned the gypsy skirt and peasant blouse—her favorite outfit—but added the new piece of jewelry to the mix.

  Curious, he asked, “You don’t want to wear the new clothes your mother bought for you?”

  Elizabeth smiled. “I’ll wear them the next time I see her because she loves them. But I feel prettier in this.”

  Again, ordinary Elizabeth. A bit more girly than she had once been, but completely ordinary.

  Then, a bodyguard wearing a dark suit who Elizabeth greeted as Dixon arrived and escorted them to a waiting, chauffeur-driven Lincoln.

  Not ordinary.

  The car took them to a very posh address in SoHo.

  Not ordinary.

  Dixon escorted them to a private elevator that took them into the Sinclairs’ penthouse.

  Definitely not ordinary.

  The Sinclairs, who were among the richest people in the world, greeted her as a dear friend. But what’s more, unlike Elizabeth’s parents, they greeted him—ordinary, middleclass, grandson of an immigrant Gabe Soldani—just as warmly. Mr. Sinclair led them through carved wooden doors. Elizabeth glanced at the doors, touching the left one almost absently as they passed. They walked through a colossal living room and down a hall to a cozier room with a fireplace, dark paneled walls, and butter-soft leather furniture.

  “Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon,” said Mrs. Sinclair.

  Mr. Sinclair stood and stepped behind a wooden bar in one corner. “What can I get you to drink? I can offer nearly any kind of spirit, several nice beers and ales, a variety of wines, or something non-alcoholic if you prefer. Elizabeth, what will you have?”

  Gabe glanced at Elizabeth. To his surprise, she said, “I like ale.”

  “Excellent. I believe I’ll have one, too. I have a Belgian Trappist ale I’m sure you’ll enjoy. Now, Jo, my love?”

  “I think I’ll have a gin and tonic.”

  “Hayman’s or Caorunn?”

  She smiled at her husband. “Need you ask? Caorunn.”

  Mr. Sinclair chuckled. “It pays to ask. You might decide to run rogue someday. Now, Gabe?”

  “A gin and tonic sounds good. But I’m sorry, I don’t know the difference between Hayman’s and Caorunn. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”

  “Frankly, I don’t taste much of a difference. Jo swears Caorunn is the finest gin made, but between you and me, I think that’s because it’s made in Scotland.”

  Jo gave a huff of mock disdain.

  Gabe’s brows drew together. “Scottish gin? I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

  Mr. Sinclair laughed. “Trust me, son, if it can be brewed or distilled, someone in Scotland can make it.”

  Gabe nodded. “All right. I’ll try the Caorunn.”

  Aldous winked. “Good choice.” While he prepared and served the drinks, a middle-aged woman entered the room with a tray of hors d’oeuvres.

  Mrs. Sinclair asked about their weekend, and Elizabeth launched into an animated description of the trip to the flower market. With that, the surreal nature of the evening evaporated. They were just having drinks and dinner with old friends.

  Ordinary.

  After a great meal and a lovely evening, Gabe could almost convince himself that the ride home in the Lincoln was really just like a cab—until Dixon insisted on escorting them to the door. “It isn’t necessary,” he assured the bodyguard. “We can usually manage to make it safely to our apartment.”

  “I understand, sir. However, you are not usually seen leaving the Sinclairs’ building with Mr. Sinclair’s driver and bodyguard. That alone could make you and Dr. Quinn a target.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “It’s perfectly understandable, sir, and it’s why Mr. Sinclair employs me—to minimize the danger in even the most innocuous situation.”

  Not quite as ordinary.

  Once they were safely in his apartment again, Elizabeth put her arms around him. “I had a delightful evening.”

  “So did I. The Sinclairs are very nice. But after meeting David, I really shouldn’t have been surprised. Frankly, he was unbelievably kind and helpful when you had your accident. And you had just broken up with him.”

  “Actually, the story I heard was that he broke up with me, but it really doesn’t matter. I couldn’t have loved him. I love you.” She snaked her right hand behind his neck, pulling his head down for a kiss.

  ~ * ~

  Elsie wasn’t sure when it happened, but at some point in the last two weeks of wonderful hours spent doing wonderful things together, and even more wonderful hours doing absolutely nothing together, she wanted more. She didn’t want to just lay with her head in his lap on the couch or snuggle next to him in bed. She loved the closeness that had developed between them; it meant everything to her, and yet, it was not enough. She wanted him to make love to her.

  She had been in this time long enough to kn
ow that things were different. It might have been another matter if Elizabeth had never been with a man before, but she had. She had been with Gabe, and Elsie wanted that.

  She had argued with herself for days, maintaining that she shouldn’t, that Gabe would be making love to Elizabeth and not to her. Finally, she stopped the internal argument. If it was wrong, it was wrong.

  As she walked past the carved doors into her parents’ home and saw the knot in the tree that represented the pocket watch, it sent a jolt of realization through her. Days were ticking by. Gertrude could come at any time, and Elsie would have to leave. She would be leaving behind so much more than Elizabeth’s body. She cherished every moment she’d had with her parents, and she would hold the memories of them in her heart. Being loved by Gabe was one more memory that she wanted—and she wanted it with every fiber of her being.

  She pulled his lips down to meet hers. She would’ve liked for it to be smooth and romantic like she had seen on television, but that was hard with a cast on one arm. Still, she poured every ounce of desire in her into that kiss.

  When their lips parted, he whispered, “Elizabeth.”

  “I want you, Gabe.”

  “But, sweetheart, your ribs…”

  “Are so much better. And you are so loving and caring, I know you won’t hurt me. Please, Gabe.”

  He groaned, kissed her again, and then lifted her into his arms to carry her to the bedroom. He lowered her onto the bed and captured her mouth in a kiss. She kissed him back, pulling at his shirt with her good hand and making absolutely no progress.

  He chuckled. “Maybe I’d better take care of this.” He pulled off his shirt, dropping it to the floor and kicking his shoes in the general direction of the closet.

  He turned his attention to her. He untied the drawstring at the waist, then caught the waistbands of both her skirt and panties, easing both garments down. She raised her hips a little to help. He pulled off her shoes, grinning as he threw them over his shoulders. He slid his hands from her calves all the way up her legs to her hips, causing her to shiver with pleasure.

  His hands continued their upward journey underneath her blouse. He gently raised her up. “Raise your arms for me.”

  She did as he asked, and he pulled the blouse off, tugging it gently over her cast. Once free of the garment, he captured her head in his hands and kissed her more deeply and passionately than he ever had.

  She was lost.

  He trailed kisses along her cheek to her ear, then down her neck. He reached around her to unhook her bra, baring her breasts to his gaze. He rubbed his thumbs over the peaks, which pebbled under his touch. Taking first one and then the other into his mouth, he sucked gently, igniting a fire in her core that took her breath away.

  His hands drifted lightly over her ribs. He raised his head, his gaze following his hands.

  “Stop being a doctor. I’m fine.”

  “I can’t stop being a doctor.” He kissed her again. “But you like that. Besides, I can’t bear the thought of hurting you.”

  “You won’t.”

  “You’ll stop me if I do?”

  “You won’t hurt me, Gabe.”

  “Elizabeth, I need your promise.”

  She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Fine. I promise that if you hurt me, I’ll tell you.”

  Gabe kissed her again and laid her back down on the bed.

  She was completely exposed to him.

  “You are beautiful.”

  She blushed. She’d never thought of herself as beautiful, although she thought Elizabeth was very attractive. Still, the adoration in his eyes made her feel like a goddess.

  Gabe stripped off his jeans and briefs and pulled something small and flat from his nightstand before climbing onto the bed beside her. Capturing her lips again, he kissed her passionately before planting kisses down her neck and breasts to her tummy. She delighted in every gentle caress of his lips. He continued past her navel toward her most private parts.

  Her hands came up to stop him. “You don’t mean to…to…kiss me there, do you?”

  He chuckled. “Of course I do. Elizabeth, you like this.”

  Well, that’s absolutely true. She did like it. And when he flicked his tongue against her sensitive nub, she lost all rational thought. The sensation was divine. The moan of pure pleasure she heard could not have escaped from her lips…but it had.

  He licked and sucked, driving her ever higher—toward what, she knew not. But she had to get there or surely perish. Just when she was certain it was within reach, he stopped.

  “No, Gabe, please…”

  He gave her a wicked smile. “Not yet.”

  He started again, and she gave herself over to the bliss of pure sensation.

  His hands slid under her bottom, lifting her toward his mouth. Her desire built to a fever pitch. Just a little bit more was all she needed.

  He stopped again. “Please, Gabe, I can’t stand it. I need…I need…”

  “My beautiful girl, I need, too.” He took the flat packet, tore it open, and covered his hard length with it.

  She was too caught up in the moment to care what it was.

  He touched her again on the spot that drove her insane until she was writhing with the pleasure of it. Then he knelt between her legs, lifted her hips slightly, and joined with her in one firm stroke. She rose to meet him, lost in the primal act. He drove into her again and again until she was overcome with shuddering waves of ecstasy. The muscles at her core contracted repeatedly around him, and he too found his release.

  He held his weight off her as he caught his breath, clearly concerned with hurting her. Gabe gently withdrew from her and lay beside her on the bed, still panting. “Elizabeth…I…God, I’ve never felt like that.”

  “I never have either.”

  He smiled at her. “You wouldn’t remember if you had.”

  “No, I’m fairly certain I’d have remembered that.”

  “It was as if our souls were entwined.”

  Our souls. Dear God, what have I done? But how could it be wrong? She had never experienced anything so perfect.

  ~ * ~

  Gabe held Elizabeth in his arms as she drifted to sleep. Making love to her had been pure bliss.

  Absolutely extraordinary.

  Chapter 18

  Ever since Elsie had made the decision to make love to Gabe, she became intensely aware of time and just how little she had. One minute he was making love to her in the early morning light on Monday, the next they were leaving Ash Wednesday Mass to go to her appointment with Dr. Rose. And the next, it was Thursday morning on the train to New Jersey.

  She was nervous. Although he had assured her that another incident like the one with Nick wouldn’t occur, she couldn’t help but worry.

  “Tell me about your home, your family.”

  “I’ve already told you about my family.”

  “Tell me again. Tell me more.”

  “Home. Well, my parents moved into their house in Hamilton, New Jersey the year after they were married. They wanted a large family, and they started right away. I was born during their first year there.”

  “Is it a big house? A little house?”

  “Little. It is a classic Cape Cod.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Well, it’s a kind of house that was commonly built in a place called Cape Cod. It is sort of a cute, little, box house. Typically, Cape Cods have a kitchen, dining room, living room, one bedroom and a bathroom on the main level, and two bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. It’s kind of perfect for a little family.”

  “And they filled it up?”

  “Not right away. I think my mother must have had some trouble, maybe a miscarriage or even two. I’m not certain, and it isn’t the kind of thing she would ever talk about, but my brother Joseph didn’t come along until I was four. After that, there was a new Soldani every two years. First Nick, then Anthony—we call him Tony—and finally, Luke.”

  “When was Angie born?�
��

  Gabe smiled. “When mom was expecting Luke, it was pretty obvious she wanted a girl. She started redecorating one of the bedrooms as a nursery, which was kind of funny because Tony was only a year and a half, still very much a baby. And the bedroom he and Nick shared was essentially a nursery. She redecorated anyway and while it wasn’t pink, the nursery had a definite feminine flair. But another Soldani brother was born.”

  “Was she very disappointed?”

  “No, but she still wanted a little girl. Don’t get me wrong—she loves her sons with everything in her, and she never would have said anything, but I was getting old enough to notice things.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like when she’d be shopping in a department store and stop to admire little dresses or gaze wistfully down the doll aisle of the toy store while her five boys only had eyes for cars and action figures. But after Luke, she didn’t get pregnant again for years. Then it happened, and on Christmas Eve five years after Luke was born, Angela Rose graced the world. I was fifteen at the time, and just like everyone else in the family, she wrapped me around her little finger from the first moment I saw her.”

  “Wrapped you around her finger?”

  He laughed. “It means we adored her and would move heaven and earth to make her happy.”

  “Except wear princess crowns.”

  “Well, yeah. On our heads at least.” He grinned. “Actually, she is a surprisingly sweet girl considering how we spoiled her, but Mom always said you can’t actually spoil a child with love.”

  “I wouldn’t think so. How old is Angela now?”

  “She is eighteen and a senior in high school.”

  Elsie sort of knew what that meant because she had a basic understanding of modern schooling.

  “So the house did fill up.”

  “Yup. After Nick, my dad finished the basement, making a rec room where their rowdy sons could play.”

  Elsie wasn’t sure what a basement or a rec room was, but she was getting better at reading context clues. It was obviously a place to play.

  “After Tony was born, they built an addition on the back of the house, making a master bedroom with a bathroom upstairs and enlarging the kitchen and dining room into a great room downstairs. The downstairs bedroom became the guest room.”