Her mother her, and she herself the Spring.”
“Those are the words Dante speaks when he sees Beatrice for the first time in Purgatory.” Gabriel touched her face, and his eyes met hers with searing intensity.
“It was the same for me. When I saw you in Cambridge after being separated from you, I remembered those words. Just seeing you, standing in the street, made me remember all I’d lost. I was hoping you’d see me and come to me.”
Gabriel pulled her against his chest as Julia’s eyes filled with tears. “Don’t cry, my sweet girl. You’re my Beatrice and my sticky little leaf and my beautiful wife. I’m sorry I’ve been such a bastard. I wanted to show you how important you are to me. You are my most precious masterpiece.”
Julia gazed up at him.
He swiped his thumbs under her eyes before pressing his lips to her forehead.
“You’re my Persephone; the maiden to my monster.”
“No more talk of monsters.” She brushed his tuxedo with her hand, worried that she’d transferred tears and makeup to the wool.
Then he was kissing her until she was breathless, arms wrapped tight around her back. When he released her, she giggled.
“I take it you’re impressed with the exhibition, Mrs. Emerson?”
“Yes.” Her face grew grave. “But I’d like you to take the photograph down. It’s a magnificent gesture, but I don’t want to be on display.”
“You aren’t.”
Julia looked from Gabriel to the photograph and back again.
“I’m hanging there for all to see.”
“Vitali wished to give us a gift to thank us, but I refused. When I asked if I could do something—ah—unusual for you, he agreed.” Gabriel gestured to the room. “Vitali is an old romantic and it pleased him to be able to do something special for us. He agreed to display the picture and give us an hour on this floor, all to ourselves.”
Julia’s eyes widened. “We have the Botticelli room all to ourselves?”
“Not just that.” His blue eyes danced with amusement as he brought his lips to her ear. “We also have the corridor.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No. This floor is off limits until”—he glanced at his Rolex—“forty-five minutes from now, when we have to go downstairs for the reception and dinner.”
With one quick movement, she grasped his lapels with both hands and pulled him to her, pressing a long, hard kiss against his lips.
“I take it you’re pleased?” he said, when she finally released him.
“Let’s go.” She grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the door.
“Where?”
“Makeup sex, museum sex, corridor sex. I don’t care what you call it, but now is our chance.”
Gabriel found himself chuckling and trotting after a very determined, very fast-moving Julianne, who was tottering on high heels.
“You surprise me, Mrs. Emerson.”
“How so?” She lifted her voice slightly so it could be heard above the tapping of her stilettos.
“You’re supposed to be shy. You’re supposed to be the seduced, not the seducer.”
She turned around, her eyes glittering.
“I want a heart-stopping, mind-blowing orgasm against a Florentine wall, Professor. You’ve just told me we have what I never thought we’d have—privacy in a public space. Screw shyness.”
Now Gabriel laughed, tipping his head back.
He marched her swiftly down the corridor and around the corner to the opposite side, where he positioned her in a dark corner between two high marble statues perched atop plinths.
“This time, I won’t stop,” he whispered, his large hand pulling up her dress in order to rest on her thigh.
“Good.”
“There’s no air conditioning in here, so things might get a little . . . hot.” He stroked the skin of her thigh with the back of his hand.
“I would expect nothing less, Professor.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.
He lifted her and her legs surrounded his waist, pressing their lower bodies together. Her back came into contact with the glass of the museum windows and she shivered a little at the cool sensation.
“Now tell me who is handsome.” He spoke against her lips.
“You are.” Julia captured his mouth just as a groan escaped him.
She kissed him determinedly, her tongue tracing the seam of his lips. He opened to her, and her tongue eagerly entered his mouth.
They kissed as if they’d been separated for years, lips eager and wanting.
He slid his hand up and down her thigh before pulling the skirt of her dress higher. The taffeta sighed its approval.
As he pressed against her more tightly, his fingers moved to the flare of her hip, where he caressed back and forth and back and forth. When he came to rest on her hip bone, he pulled back.
“Where are your panties?”
“I like my body when it is with your body, remember? Panties just get in the way.”
Gabriel groaned, the sound traveling down the empty corridor. “You’ve been walking around like this all evening?”
She winked at him provocatively.