Venetian Sunshine (Tales from the Grand Tour Book 5)

by Merry Farmer

  “Stop!” Charlotte shouted, struggling to her feet. “Wait!”

  The dark lady ignored her, dashing around the corner she and Trent had come from.

  Charlotte cursed in Romani under her breath. For a moment, she picked up her skirts as though she would chase after the woman, but splashing from below her dragged her attention back to what was really important.

  Trent surfaced, sucking in a deep breath. He swam to the edge of the canal and grabbed the wall. Charlotte had never been so happy to learn someone could swim in her life.

  “Are you all right?” she asked, crouching by the side of the canal again.

  Trent nodded, taking a few more breaths before saying, “I think so.” He glanced up at her and laughed tightly. “That was unexpected.”

  Charlotte was so relieved he was unhurt that she laughed with him, although there couldn’t have been a worse time for laughter. “Can you climb out here or do you need to swim to those stairs?” She pointed to a shallow set of stairs near a gondola dock several yards down the canal.

  Trent studied them, wiping wet hair back from his brow. “I’d better use the stairs.”

  The high tension of the moment was broken as Trent swam and Charlotte walked to the stairs. From there, Trent was easily able to climb out of the canal. Charlotte’s heart took its time slowing down after the chase. Her senses continued to buzz and swirl, as if she should still be running and following the dark lady. Helping Trent out of the water and brushing his coat as he dripped all over the street felt anticlimactic after what they’d just done.

  “She got away,” Trent said, panting and looking down the street toward the corner the dark lady had disappeared around.

  “I’m sorry.” Charlotte lowered her head.

  “Oh, no. I didn’t mean to imply it was your fault.” Trent rested a hand on her arm, then immediately withdrew it as he soaked part of Charlotte’s sleeve. “I should have been on the lookout for her. I was certain she knew we were following her, so I should have expected she’d try something like that.”

  “Do you think she pushed you into the canal to stop us from following her?” Charlotte asked.

  Trent nodded, raking his fingers through his wet hair. “I’m sure of it. And that tells me that she had accomplices that she doesn’t want discovered, or perhaps a hideout that she doesn’t want us to find. It may even be near here.” He glanced around, shaking his arms as if that would dry him off.

  Charlotte was struck by how alluring he looked, soaked as he was. He wasn’t the sort of man most women would find traditionally handsome, but there was something solid and comforting about him. The way his wet clothes stuck to his body hinted that he had strong arms and a broad chest. What he lacked in grace, he made up for in power. It made her wonder what he would look like without any clothes at all.

  “We need to get you out of those wet things,” she said without weighing the wisdom of her words first.

  Trent stopped glancing around and looked at her, his cheeks going pink. “I hardly think it’s wise for me to strip down to my drawers here,” he said with more than a little humor in his eyes.

  That flash of teasing only added to the warm shivers filling Charlotte. Kindness and a good nature made any man attractive, no matter how he was built.

  “I know where we are,” she said, smiling bashfully up at him through lowered lashes. “My flat isn’t that far from here. Come.”

  She started forward, taking his hand and leading him on.

  Her flat might not have been far, but it was still a fair distance. That meant walking through a few crowded streets, more populated by Venetian locals than foreigners on holiday. Trent received more than a few pointed stares as they wove their way through people going about their daily business. Charlotte was particularly aware of the stares of a pair of Romani men they passed as they neared her flat. She knew the men. They were distant kin, though she hadn’t spoken to them—or any of that side of her family—in so long she couldn’t remember the last conversation. She didn’t think they’d cause trouble for her or for Trent, but she did note the way they whispered to each other before ducking down a side alley.

  By the time they reached the drag building that housed her flat and climbed the stairs to her rooms overlooking the lagoon, Trent was still dripping like a puppy that had jumped in a fountain.

  “I have a robe, but I don’t think it would fit you,” Charlotte said, crossing the room to an old cabinet that stood next to one of the one-room flat’s open windows. “Here are some towels for you to dry off. You could wrap one of these blankets around yourself while you wait for your clothes to dry.”

  She pulled the two towels she owned from the cabinet and turned to hand them to Trent. He was already taking off his wet shoes and propping them beside her door, but straightened to accept the towels with a grateful smile. “I worry my things will take a long time to dry.”

  Their hands touched as he took the towels from her. A jolt of excitement shot through Charlotte, heating her all over. “On a warm day like this? They’ll be dry in no time. Take them off and hang them on the windowsills.”

  She skipped away, into the corner where a small stove sat. As Trent undressed behind her—she heard every slip of wet fabric and every move Trent made as he peeled off his clothes—she checked the firebox, added more coal, and busied herself boiling a pot for tea, if only to avoid the temptation of turning around to get a wicked little peek at him. As it was, she tried to steal glimpses of Trent in the reflection of the window pane and the shine of her kettle, but neither device gave her the good look she wanted.

  “I’m decent,” Trent announced at last. “Or at least as decent as I’ll get.”

  Charlotte whipped around to find him swathed in one of her thin cotton bed coverings as if it were a toga. She couldn’t help but laugh with delight.

  As soon as the sound filled the room, Trent’s grin dropped. “I must look like a right fool,” he said, drooping.

  “No!” Charlotte took a quick step toward him. “I wasn’t laughing at you, I swear. It’s just that you look like a Roman senator.”

  Trent glanced down at his wild ensemble, then back up at her, uncertain. “You must think I’m a pig wrapped in a blanket.”

  Charlotte blinked in surprise. “Whyever would you say that?”

  He eyed her as though she might be teasing him. “I’m far from ideally shaped,” he said in a quiet voice.

  “Ideally shaped for what?” Charlotte asked.

  He opened his mouth as though he would give a quick reply, but closed it just as quickly. “You know,” he said at last.

  A wealth of tender feelings erupted inside of Charlotte. Trent was self-conscious about his appearance. And while he had nothing at all to worry about, in her opinion, she found his sensitivity charming.

  “You’re shaped like a man who can dash through the streets of Venice on the trail of a would-be thief, fall in a canal, and then pull himself out,” she said, taking his arm and leading him to her one, small table to have a seat. His bicep was large and firm under her touch.

  “I suppose,” he said.

  Instinct told her to shift the conversation. “I believe our chase was as much of a success as we could have hoped for,” she said, sitting across from him and slipping her hand into the pocket of her skirt containing the coin.

  “How do you figure?” he asked.

  She pulled out the coin and set it on the table. “I believe the dark lady might have been looking for this,” she said. “And if she was, she didn’t find it.”

  Trent’s eyes lit with inspiration. “You’re right. She picked Asher’s pocket, but she wasn’t after his money. We saw the coin fall out of Asher’s pocket, so that must have been what she was after.”

  “She was frustrated,” Charlotte went on. “She must believe her mission was a failure.”

  Trent reached for the coin, picking it up and turning it over. “But what does it mean?”

  Inspired, Charlotte leapt up
from her chair and crossed to the single bookshelf her flat contained. She had books on a variety of subjects, language being one of them. Her work as a fortune teller had led her to research all sorts of ancient arcana, and she selected a book of languages that might be of some use.

  “We determined that the coin is a cipher,” she said, bringing the book back to the table, “but we need to determine what kind.”

  She opened the book and laid it on the table, flipping through the pages to show Trent what it contained. He set the coin down beside the book and pored through the pages with Charlotte. That act required both of them inching their chairs around the table to sit side-by-side. The closer Charlotte got to Trent, especially in his current state of undress, the harder it became for her to concentrate. Or breathe. She felt Trent’s body tense beside hers as they skimmed her book of languages together.

  “The symbols on the coin aren’t matching anything in the book,” Trent said, his voice low and rich. He turned a page, and their hands brushed.

  Charlotte caught her breath at the contact. A need that went as deep as her soul pulsed through her. “I think you’re right,” she said, more breathless than usual. “Perhaps we just haven’t come across the right language yet.”

  “Perhaps,” he echoed, glancing sideways at her. “Or perhaps the language on the coin is more personal in nature.”

  A shiver swirled through her, more because of the heated glance he sent her than because of what he’d said. “Yes, I’d say it’s very personal,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  “I would wager the coin unlocks a code that only a select few people know,” he went on, shifting subtly toward her.

  “I’m sure you’re right.”

  She summoned her courage and glanced directly at him. The way he stared at her, the way his eyes—usually so full of kindness—were filled with longing had her heart racing within her. Her whole body responded to him, as though he were the cipher she’d been waiting her whole life to find so that she could decode her heart. Everything about him was alluring, from the scent of his skin to the heat radiating from him.

  The coin suddenly didn’t matter. Her position in the world relative to his didn’t matter. All that mattered was that if she didn’t touch him, she would wither inside.

  She took the lead, resting her hand on the side of his face and leaning in to bring her lips to his. He sucked in a breath at her kiss, then let it out with an urgent moan, slipping his arm around her waist. She kissed him with all the passion that had been bottled inside of her for too long, waiting for her soulmate to come along and unlock it, and he kissed her back with just as much intensity.

  Their positions seated were too awkward, so, as if of the same mind, they stood. They stepped away from the chairs and into each other’s arms. Trent took the lead, slanting his mouth over hers and parting her lips with an insistence that was both reverent and needy. She welcomed the invasion of his tongue against her as openly as she had in their sudden kiss earlier, opening to him and wanting nothing more than to be possessed by him in every way. In fact, she made up her mind that if he attempted to stop or pull away, she wouldn’t stand for it.

  Blessedly, he didn’t stop. His hands traveled across her body, tugging her blouse out from the waist of her skirt so that he could caress her sides. His touch left her breathless and aching for more. She pushed at the swath of fabric looped over his shoulder. As soon as that slid off his arm, the entire toga spilled to the floor in a puddle, leaving him fully naked and exposed to her.

  She drank in the sight of his body eagerly, not caring how much of a wanton it made her. His body was every bit as strong and masculine as she’d known it would be. His size made her feel safe and feminine. And the sight of his hardening cock had her aching to be one with him.

  “You’re wonderful,” she gasped, slipping her hands down his sides and bringing one around to stroke the length of his erection. “I…I can’t wait.”

  It felt like a silly thing to say, but only for a moment. Trent sighed with pleasure, clasping the side of her face and drawing her closer for a kiss so powerful it made her dizzy. She kept her hand firmly around his arousal, growing more excited by his heat and hardness with each passing second. Her body felt as though it would burst into flame at any moment. All she could think about was having him deep inside of her as quickly as possible.

  He seemed to feel the same urgency. His hands made quick work of the fastenings at the back of her skirt. They were forced apart momentarily as she wriggled out of her blouse and stepped out of her skirt and petticoat as they moved clumsily across the room to her bed. She could hardly think as they both worked to free her of her clothes. It didn’t matter that they hardly knew each other or that the circumstances that surrounded them were so dire. As far as she was concerned, Trent had been a part of her soul from the moment she was born and in every lifetime before that.

  At last, when she shed the last of her clothes, her shoes, and her stockings, Trent lifted her and laid her across the sundrenched covers on her bed. Delicious sounds of desire escaped from him as he kissed her lips, their tongues dancing. She arched into him as he trailed those kisses down her neck to her shoulders and on to her chest.

  She sighed in pleasure as he caressed her breast, lifting it to his mouth. The heat and wetness of his mouth teasing her felt so good that it brought the ache in her sex dangerously close to the edge. She threaded her fingers through his still-wet hair as he raked his tongue across her tight nipple, sucking gently and driving her wild with pleasure. She let him know how much she enjoyed his ministrations with her sounds of encouragement and by writhing under him. His body felt so good against hers that her patience to be one with him was wearing thin.

  “Oh, God,” he gasped, lifting to kiss her lips again as his hips jerked between her thighs. “I want to get this right, but I want you so desperately I don’t think I can hold on.”

  “I want you,” she panted, grinding her hips against his and opening herself wide to show him just how much. “I want all of you. Now.”

  He let out a shaky breath, stroking a hand down her side to grasp her hip. As if driven by a force beyond both of them, he brought himself to her sex and thrust deep into her. The suddenness of his invasion and his considerable girth had her crying out with pleasure.

  “Dear God, yes,” she sighed as he thrust into her again. “More.”

  He began cautiously, thrusting slow and deep. He filled her to a degree that drove her wild and made her want to ride him harder. She jerked against him in encouragement, grabbing his lower back and digging her nails into his flesh. He seemed to sense what she wanted and thrust harder and faster. Her body responded eagerly, the pleasure building within her to dizzying heights and causing her to cry out in time to his thrusts. The sounds he made grew more urgent as well until Charlotte was convinced their souls were as entwined as their bodies.

  She hit the apex of her pleasure with such unexpected strength that her eyes flew open and she tilted her head back as the most powerful orgasm of her life washed over her. It throbbed through her, dragging her deep into the heart of pleasure and joining her with him in a way nothing else could. She was still ecstatic with pleasure when he tensed and spilled inside of her with a cry of release. The whole thing was so beautiful and so perfect that her orgasm continued on and on, long after she would have expected it to subside. It was as if the two of them were suspended in a moment of pure bliss that lasted for all eternity.

  At last, the magic of the moment began to subside, and with it both her and Trent’s energy. Trent collapsed atop her as she let out a breath and folded him in her arms. His weight felt wonderful, and he stayed inside of her as he caught his breath. She didn’t ever want to let him go. For the first time in her life, she felt as though she knew her place in the world, knew who she was meant to hold close to her heart through a thousand lifetimes. And even though the sense of danger still hung in the air around her, Charlotte felt as though she’d come home.
r />   Chapter 5

  The sense of contentment that settled over Trent during the afternoon he spent with Charlotte was like something out of a dream. At first, he couldn’t believe his audacity in making love to her so vigorously. Part of him was shocked that he would throw caution and morals to the wind to bed her—like several of his bolder cousins would have. That wasn’t who he was.

  But it felt so natural and so right to make love to Charlotte. Not only had she been willing and eager to tangle up with him, letting him touch and invade her with vocal enthusiasm, she’d gotten up to make him tea and serve him cake with a smile afterwards. Once their physical appetites were satisfied, they’d fed their carnal ones all over again. It was as if the two of them were meant to be, as if they’d always been together and would always be together, come what may.

  “We really should return to the palace where my cousins are staying to tell Asher what we know about the dark lady,” Trent said as they lay in bed well after sunset. They snuggled against each other, gazing out the window at the stars shining above the city. “My clothes have been dry enough to put them back on for hours now.”

  “But why would you want to put them back on,” Charlotte said, a teasing note in her voice. She shifted, pushing him to his back, and laying on top of him. “I like you just as you are.” She added to her teasing by bending down to kiss him.

  Trent circled his arms around her, caressing her back as their mouths melded. He lowered a hand to her backside, and his cock stiffened in response. Mad as it was, that made him laugh.

  “I am astounded by my own stamina today,” he laughed. She laughed with him, the sound devilishly tempting, but he went on with, “And as much as I’d love to test that stamina, we have a duty to let Asher know what’s going on.”

  Charlotte lowered her eyes with a sigh, brushing her fingers across his chest. “You’re right. I wish you weren’t, but you are.” She glanced up to meet his eyes again. “The feeling of danger I’ve had since first meeting your family is as strong as ever. I don’t know if I could live with myself if something bad happened and I did nothing to stop it.”