“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.
“No wonder that man was staring at you.”
“Stop talking about other men.” She tugged at his bow tie.
He leaned forward to taste her lips again, stroking her tongue with his own.
Julia shifted in his arms, the heels of her shoes catching on his tuxedo jacket. She undid his bow tie, tossing it to the floor, and hastily unbuttoned his shirt. She began kissing his neck and chest, her lips whispering across the surface of his skin, before sliding a hand down to his waistband.
But Gabriel would not be rushed. He moved her hand back to his shoulder, then reached between her legs, touching her gently. He was barely able to contain his joy at her reaction to him.
Julia moved and writhed, moaning in his ear.
“Don’t make me wait,” she begged, trying in vain to pull him closer.
Gabriel rummaged in his pockets.
“It’s a good thing I brought this.” He held up a square foil packet triumphantly.
She opened her eyes, fixing on the item. “Where did that come from?”
Gabriel chuckled.
“I thought you’d be uncomfortable all evening otherwise.”
She blinked. “Did you plan this?”
“Absolutely.” His left hand squeezed her backside for effect.
She moved to take it from him, but he shook his head.
“Allow me, Mrs. Emerson.” He held the packet in his teeth while he unzipped his trousers. Then he ripped the foil before swiftly rolling it over himself.
Gabriel teased her, sliding back and forth before easing inside. She exhaled in satisfaction, tightening around him.
There were no words. Indeed, they were beyond speech. Gabriel knew his wife’s body as she knew his, and the two of them moved and responded to one another with an increasing pace.
Muffled groans and grunts of satisfaction echoed down the corridor, so much so that a group of statues covered their ears. Julia’s back thumped against the window as they moved in concert.
“I’m close,” she managed, the last word cut off as her orgasm overtook her.
Gabriel quickened his thrusts, filling her deeply until he, too, was overcome.
Julia clung to him as if she were dying, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her face buried in his neck.
They were motionless for some time. Gabriel’s breath left his body in a long, relaxed exhalation.
“Okay?” he asked, kissing her cheek.
“Fantastic.”
They remained in one another’s arms, holding each other tightly as their hearts and breathing slowed. Gabriel gently placed Julia on her feet, and pulled her dress down to cover her. His hand found her waist and he squeezed.
“Can you walk?” He eyed her, and her expensive shoes, with concern.
“I think so. I might be a little wobbly.”
“Then allow me.” He lifted her into his arms and carried her to a nearby bathroom.
“Is it very different when you wear one of those?” Julia nodded at the condom that Gabriel threw into a trash can.
“I can’t feel as much, so it’s frustrating.” Gabriel proceeded to wash his hands. “For most of my life, it was all I knew. But knowing what it’s like to be inside you without it makes a condom a kind of torture.”
“I’m sorry.”
He dried his hands and leaned over to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t be. I’m not so selfish that I want you to be uncomfortable or messy simply so I can have better sex.”
She frowned.
He brought their foreheads together. “Sex with you is always magnificent. But that’s because it’s more than just sex. Now I think you’ll have to fix your hair and your face. Or everyone will know that you’ve just had museum sex.” He looked a good deal more than proud of himself.
She arched an eyebrow. “And you’re all set to return to the party?”
“Of course.” Gabriel buttoned his tuxedo jacket.
“You don’t need to make any—adjustments?”
“No.” He cocked his head to one side. “Of course, I don’t mind if people realize I just had museum sex with my wife.”
“Oh, they will.”
“How?”
“Because you’re forgetting something, Professor.”
“And what’s that?”
“Your tie.”
Gabriel reached up to his neck, a look of surprise flitting across his face. He began buttoning his shirt.
“Where is it?”
“On the floor where I left it.”
“Temptress,” he muttered, shaking his head.
She leaned over the vanity, attending to her hair and makeup. “So how good was the sex we just had? On a scale of one to transcendent?”
“Earth-shattering and tie forgetting.”
Smugly, she reapplied her lipstick. “Don’t you forget it.”
Chapter Thirty-six
I love exhibition openings,” Julia murmured, as they rejoined the other guests. “They’re the best.”
“You never cease to amaze me.” Gabriel’s hand hovered at her lower back.
“I could say the same. I think you can see an outline of my body on the window upstairs.”
He chuckled, his hand sliding down to pat her bottom.
Someone cleared his throat behind them.
Julia and Gabriel turned to find Dottore Vitali standing a few feet away.
“Forgive me for interrupting, but would you be willing to speak to a potential donor?” He eyed the Professor hopefully.
Gabriel looked at Julia. “Vitali asked me earlier if I would try to persuade someone to part with a few paintings. But I can delay.”
“No, you go.”
“Are you sure?”
“Persuade the person to donate. I’m just going to wander around for a while.”
Gabriel kissed her cheek. Then he and his old friend joined a group of well-dressed men and women who were standing near the entrance to the exhibition.
Julia retraced her steps through the gallery, leisurely admiring the collection. She was standing in front of one of the more colorful illustrations of Dante and Virgil in Hell when an oily voice addressed her in English.
“Good evening.”
She whirled around and found herself face to face with Professor Pacciani.