Northern Moonlight

by Anisa Claire West

Sabrina took one last bite of cake before pushing the dessert plate away. Donald looked at her smirking. “Was that the most fantastic carrot cake you’ve ever had in your life? Mmm.” He smacked his lips as Sabrina looked at the wall.

  “It was very good. Thank you for everything tonight, Donald.” Sabrina forced herself to fix her gaze on him again.

  “The night is hardly over. I’d like to take you dancing now. How does that sound?”

  Sabrina panicked for a moment, unsure of how to delicately escape the predicament. “That’s a lovely idea, but I’m really very tired. Perhaps you could walk me to my car?”

  “I surely will. But I hope we can take a raincheck. Speaking of the check, let me take out the old wallet and pay.”

  Sabrina watched as he removed the wallet from his jacket pocket and whipped out a crisp bill, flashing it in front of her in a failed effort to impress. After he paid, Donald walked Sabrina to her car. When she saw he was making preparations to launch a kiss, she stuck out her hand for a platonic shake.

  “Good night, Donald. It was a pleasure to meet you. Thank you again for dinner.” Sabrina said hurriedly, getting into her car.

  *****

  When Gio jerked his truck to a halt, he felt oddly predatory. Why was he suddenly so insanely possessive of Sabrina, this French-speaking, picture-taking Primrose from Manhattan? Why did he care so much? Years ago, he had caught a lady friend with another man on the terrace of her apartment, and he hadn’t been one fraction as angry. He had just mechanically expelled her from his life and soon moved on to another woman. Gnawing at him, deep inside, was a terrifying revelation that he was frantically in love with Sabrina and needed to have her.

  His jaw went rigid with the rest of his body as he spied two headlights in the distance, discerning that it was Sabrina’s car. She was alone in her silver sedan, pulling into the winding driveway on her property and gliding out with her signature graceful style. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed his truck. Giovanni swung the door open and then slammed it, walking briskly to come up behind her. Feeling pursued, she gasped lightly, whirling around to face her stalker.

  “Gio! My God, you scared me. Where did you come from?”

  “I should ask the same of you.”

  “What?” Sabrina was indignant and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Do you deny that you were out with a man tonight?” He boomed.

  “Do you deny that you were out with a woman?!” She spat shrilly, evading his question.

  “Yes, I was out with a woman, Sabrina. Are you jealous?” Gio taunted deliberately.

  “Of that fake platinum witch? Why would I be? You and I are no longer together.”

  At those last words, his eyes darkened to charcoal and he felt like dragging her into the house to show her that she was still and would always be his. His mind was racing with thoughts and impulses utterly foreign to him, so much so that he wanted to dash to a mirror to see if the glass really reflected him or some passion-sick stranger.

  “Sabrina,” He ventured, trying to control his voice from trembling, “Sabrina, I’d like to talk to you inside instead of out here on the front lawn where the whole damn neighborhood can hear us.”

  “Inside?” She echoed, almost offended. “You want to come inside? You’ve been inside, Giovanni, and you left me out in the cold.” She started to walk away from him, as he reached out a hand to touch her arm.

  “Let go of me!” She exclaimed, but something in her tone was unconvincing, almost theatrical, and Gio believed in that moment that she wanted him as much as she ever had.

  “I’ll let go of you physically, Sabrina, but I know you have feelings for me. Why don’t you stop being so stubborn and admit the truth to me? You’ve been missing me since we separated, and you do want me to come inside.” Gio spoke with a confidence that maddened Sabrina because she knew he was right.

  “I won’t deny that I have feelings for you, but I’d bet a whole lot of money that you would deny having feelings for me!” Sabrina waited for Gio to respond, but his countenance was immovable, and he stood there in defiant silence. Sabrina shook her head with disgust. “That’s what I thought.” She sniffed and began a self-assured stride to her front door, fully expecting the man to get into his truck and drive away. Instead, he made his way over to the door with a cocky swagger and walked right in. Sabrina looked at him indignantly as he slammed the door shut behind them.

  “Have a little respect for my property.” She said in a purposely snobbish tone that she knew would grate on his nerves.

  “Have a little respect for me,” he countered, “and don’t walk away like a child in the middle of a quarrel.”

  “Pardon me, your highness, but when you fell silent, I mistakenly thought the communication lines were closed.” She countered frostily.

  His reply was biting, “I’m not a race horse, and I don’t like being bet against. So when you said you’d wager a lot of money that I wouldn’t express my feelings, I decided not to say a word.”

  Sabrina tactfully refrained from pointing out his flawed logic and gave him a fresh chance to share his emotions. “Granted, you’re not a race horse! Forget about my silly bet and tell me: did you miss me?”

  Gio awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets and squirmed in place as Sabrina laughed disdainfully and said, “Why did you follow me home if you can’t even admit that you missed me? Don’t you see how incongruous it is? You dedicate your life to fighting fires, but you’re fighting the wrong ones!”

  “What?” His eyes were masked by those velvety black lashes, and his baritone voice was equally guarded. As she looked at him standing there, his face and stance told Sabrina that he had missed her more than he could express with words. To her dismay, she was suddenly overcome by tenderness for Gio, despite everything that had just transpired. In the restaurant with Donald, all she could think about was Gio, and now he was here in her house. She would not let the moment pass and regret it later.

  “Why fight the inferno in your heart? Let it spread to your hands and mouth like brushfire in the wilderness…” She spoke in a seductively soft tone, layered with raw passion, and he was half-mesmerized and half-cringing at her fire analogies. Fire was his sworn enemy; it had destroyed his family, and even the metaphorical blaze that burns in one’s heart could vanquish him if he were foolish enough to let it. Stiffening, he silently vowed that he was not foolish and would conquer every fire that blew in his direction until the day he died. But as he looked at Sabrina’s questing eyes and quivering mouth, he felt his heart twist uncomfortably. Damn, he thought, why did I have to fall in love?

  Despite all Gio’s precautions, Sabrina had ignited a fire that had spread not only to his hands and mouth, but also to his stony heart. Hoping to quell the uncontrollable heat pulsating throughout his whole being, Gio grabbed her face and pressed his mouth crushingly to hers. The fire was indeed unleashed and it branded them both with astounding intensity.

  “I knew your heart wasn’t a tombstone.” Sabrina murmured dazedly, as Gio planted soft kisses on her neck, titillating her with the feel of his sculpted lips against her feminine flesh. The primitive man in him thundered for quick, merciful release, but he refused to succumb to such base instincts. Instead, he focused on the art of patiently pleasuring the lovely woman writhing with such passionate promise in his tightly muscled embrace. He continued his journey across her body, which had inspired unending fantasies in him since that first snowy morning when she had sauntered by in mouth-wateringly tight sweater and jeans.

  “Wait.” Sabrina put her hands on his shoulders. “I don’t want to do this if one of us is going to walk out again. I admit that I was wrong to leave Burlington without telling you. But when I came back, you treated me like a stranger.”

  Gio sighed gruffly and moved his hands from her waist to her hands. “I’m sorry for that. I can’t tell you how much it killed me when you ran out of the firehouse. I didn’t even have a chance to thank you for telling the police about C
ooper. I had already heard about the bank heist from Max, but I didn’t know the police had released a sketch. Thanks to you, that worm might be arrested if he ever dares to come back to the States.” He paused to caress her palm, absentmindedly drawing a heart there with his fingertip. “Let’s not talk about anything negative. Let’s just be together again.” Gio lowered his voice intimately. “No more running away and no more stubbornness, OK?”

  “Yes…” Sabrina whispered, straining upward to kiss him.

  He wound his vice-like arms around her delicate frame, curving his palms over the roundness of her buttocks. She surrendered immediately to the whirlpool of sensation that was rushing through them both and did not protest when he began to roughly undress her. When she was nude, Gio pushed her onto the floor and climbed atop her, though he was still fully clothed. She felt the coldness of the floor sensitize her entire spine and then gasped as Gio positioned his face between her legs to pleasure her as he had never before done.

  Barely cognizant of the fact that her living room windows were wide open, Sabrina cooed with impatient delight as his mouth joined with her most intimate flesh. He looked up at her face, pleased to see there an expression of speechless desire, and then continued his tutelage between her silky thighs. She writhed up and down on the floor until he could bear no more and suddenly stopped to rip off his clothes. As he lowered himself onto her, there were no more barriers between them. There was only an uncontrollable passion that quaked as Gio and Sabrina melted into glorious oneness.

  When Gio finally stopped moving, Sabrina sighed deeply, as his sweat mixed with her own and she even felt tears welling up in her eyes because of the depth and power of their lovemaking. In a hoarse, breathless voice, Gio finally spoke. “You shouldn’t lie here on the floor. Let’s go to your bedroom.”

  “Let’s stay right here.” She murmured.

  “At least let me get you some pillows or a blanket.” He insisted.

  “I don’t need anything. Just cover me with yourself.”

  Gio obeyed by entwining her full-length in his embrace while lovingly caressing her knotted, sweat-soaked hair. “You can wash my hair and give me one of your famous scalp massages later.” Sabrina whispered.

  “Of course. You were right to just want to stay here. This is perfect. And I’m not on call…actually, I left my beeper in the truck.”

  Sabrina furrowed her brow. “Please don’t use the word ‘beeper’ again tonight.”

  He grinned and gave her a peck on the shoulder. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “Neither do I.” She answered as her eyes began to flutter shut. Soon, they had both drifted off to the most restful sleep either of them had enjoyed in weeks.

  In the morning, Gio awoke stretching and slightly disoriented. He looked around and realized he had slept all night on the floor of Sabrina’s living room. Ordinarily, a night like that would have made his muscles rebel furiously, but this morning he felt incredible.

  “Are you awake, Sabrina?”

  She looked over at him with a broad, sunny smile. “Yes, I am. I hope you slept OK. These weren’t exactly luxury accommodations.” She giggled.

  “Oh, last night felt pretty luxurious to me.” He quipped, pulling her back into his arms and spending the rest of the morning in luxurious oneness with Sabrina.

  Chapter 16

  Later that day, Gio was rummaging through some old shirts, making selections to donate to the firehouse’s annual clothing drive. Since last night, he had been basking in a state of euphoria such as he had never known. When the phone rang, he smiled, anticipating that it was Sabrina.

  “Hello?” He greeted with uncharacteristic cheerfulness.

  The line was filled with static, but the unmistakable, thin voice of his aunt Helena answered him dismally. “Giovanni, I have some unfortunate news.”

  Gio was struck by the grimness of the woman’s tone as well as the fact that she was calling him at all because they hadn’t communicated since the surprise party. “What’s wrong, Aunt Helena?” Gio asked.

  “Brace yourself. Perhaps you should sit down.” Helena paused, but Gio remained belligerently standing.

  “I’m listening, go ahead.” He said tersely.

  “Your uncle Stefano has died. He had a massive heart attack after breakfast this morning and died before I could get him to the hospital.”

  Gio placed a hand over his mouth. “I can’t believe this.” He said in a muffled voice.

  “Neither can I. Listen, I don’t expect any sympathy from you. I know how much bad blood there was between you and your uncle. I just wanted to tell you that yesterday I mailed you a letter. You should receive it with tomorrow’s mail delivery. Please read it in its entirety and do whatever you wish with the information. I need to hang up now. I’m not feeling very well.” Helena’s voice faded away feebly, and he could hear her shallow breathing on the line.

  Overcome with a desire to offer kindness despite everything, Gio said, “Before you hang up, please accept my condolences on the loss of your husband. This is such a shock.”

  Helena seemed not to hear him. “I must go now. Be sure to read my letter.”

  With those directions, she hung up the line as Gio sat with his mouth agape, feeling numb. The news of his uncle’s death was unexpected, as the man had no history of heart disease and seemed to be in reasonably good shape. As far as the contents of the letter, Gio couldn’t begin to guess, but he thought it strange that the letter had been sent the day before Stefano’s death. Gio stood up and began to neatly fold the shirts he had chosen for the clothing drive, though his head was spinning from the news Helena had conveyed.

  The next morning, Gio awoke early and went downstairs to check the mail, knowing that he would find an empty box, but impatient to read Helena’s letter. Since he did not have to report to the firehouse until late that night, he threw on some exercise apparel and went for a long, vigorous jog. By the time he returned home, after having covered about ten miles of terrain, the mail was waiting in his mailbox. He seized the pile of parcels, located a business-size envelope with a return address of Brooklyn, and ran up the stairs, tearing it open. Inside his apartment, Gio began to read:

  June 30, 1980

  Dear Giovanni,

  The truths that I will reveal to you in this letter may at once overwhelm, astonish, and appall you. All these years, I have been an accomplice to a crime, and my conscience will no longer allow me to remain silent.

  The truth is always one’s best armor and, regardless of any consequences I have to face, may my honesty serve as my shield. Your uncle Stefano is responsible for the fire that killed your parents and brother.

  In the early 1960’s, your father confided in Stefano concerning a life insurance policy that he held. The policy was to be left to your mother, you, and your brother in case premature tragedy befell Marcello. However, Stefano, as his only other relative in the United States, was named as a secondary beneficiary, meaning that he would only be able to collect the funds if your entire family were deceased. Hungry for the money, he used the spare key he had to your house and set off a timed explosive in the living room.

  Before that, Stefano had contracted the chief investigator of Mount Hollow as his accomplice, a man named Glen Cooper. In exchange for covering up the nature of the fire, Stefano promised Glen a sizeable share of the life insurance funds. Little did either of them know that your father had cashed in his own life insurance policy earlier that year to balance out a slow carpentry season. Ironically, even if the life insurance policy had still existed, you would have been the beneficiary. Stefano did not count on the possibility that you would not be home in the middle of that stormy winter’s night.

  It was only afterwards that Stefano informed me of what he had done. I chose to stand by my husband. I had no means to support myself, nowhere to go. So, I stayed with him, and then you came to live with us, and it devastated me to be around you. That is why I have always kept as distant as po
ssible from you, Giovanni, not out of loathing but out of shame. You will never know how sorry I am or how much my conscience pains me daily.