A Fall of Water
Page 117

Chapter Thirty-Five
Outside Florence
December 2012
Beatrice arched her back as she moved over him, and her eyes caught the skylight they’d uncovered at dusk. A thousand brilliant stars shone over her head as his warm hands stroked over her shoulders, cupped her breasts, then trailed down her body until he grasped her hips in his hands. He groaned in pleasure and rose up, kissing along her collar as her hands tangled in his hair. The amnis sparked between them wherever their skin touched, and their pleasure built as they slowly made love.
His hands trailed down her spine, teasing the small of her back as his mouth met hers and his tongue traced her lips. Then he flipped her over so she was under his body. Beatrice smiled as she wrapped her hands around his wrists, and they moved in ancient rhythm.
Rise and fall. Push and pull. When she felt the wave lift her, she looked into her husband’s eyes. Her mouth opened, and a soft breath escaped her lips. Giovanni leaned down and captured the small exhalation of pleasure before he pulled back, rocking into her faster as his eyes darkened in desire.
The wave crested and she pulled him closer. He reached down to lift her up and press their bodies together in one, final thrust before his back arched and he cried out in release. Then he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a long, luxurious kiss.
She rolled them on their side, and his fingers reached up, tracing the line of her nose. Her chin. The curve of her eyebrow. She smiled and looked at him from the corner of her eye.
“You’re staring at me,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you are beautiful, and I like to look at you.”
She grinned and turned to face him. “Then I guess I can stare at you, too.”
Giovanni smiled. “You are allowed.”
“Bet your ass, I am.”
They laughed quietly, enjoying the peace of the house. Giovanni’s home in Florence reminded her of his home in Cochamó with a few major exceptions. One, it was huge. An estate more than a home. It was in the country and one wing of the house had no electricity, which made it easier for Beatrice to rest. She had even been sleeping a little more, which was nice.
It was surrounded by an olive grove, so it was private; she could see them spending many, many months there in the years ahead, enjoying the isolation and the quiet hills. She sighed in contentment, and Giovanni stroked her skin, tracing the small scars where he had marked her years before when she was still human. Her fangs dropped when she heard his low growl, and her hunger began to rise again.
Just then, a sharp cry pierced the silence of the room.
“What did you do?”
There was a clatter in the living room below them.
“Nothing!”
“Well, you must have done something. She wasn’t crying before.”
“Tenzin, I was just sitting here, and the baby started crying. I didn’t do anything.”
“Well, I didn’t do anything, either. I was just looking at her. She’s not a drooler. That’s good.”
“Well, how do we get her to stop crying? It’s gonna wake Dez up.”
More footsteps came from below them. “Oh there, precious girl. Let me have you.” Carwyn’s deep voice rose as the baby’s cry grew desperate. “Why didn’t one of you try picking her up instead of squawking about whose fault it is?”
“I don’t know what to do with babies! I’d probably break her.”
Tenzin’s voice replied, “That is not my child.”
“Shhh.” The vampire soothed the baby, whose cries began to die off. “There you are, Carina. No more crying, love. Uncle Carwyn is here, and he isn’t a bleeding idiot.”
“Hey!”
Matt’s voice came from a distance, whispering down the hall. “Hey, Carwyn, is the baby hungry?”
“I don’t think so. Let Dez sleep. I think she just woke up and realized she wasn’t by her mam.”
Matt’s voice drew nearer. “I appreciate you guys helping out, but should I—”
“No, no.” Carwyn interrupted. “She’s fine. See? She’s falling right back to sleep. Let Dez rest a bit. I’ll call you if she starts to fuss again.”
The baby’s cries had turned into pleasant gurgles, and Beatrice smiled when she heard the low hum of activity level out. Carwyn sang a lullaby to the baby. Matt returned to sleep. Tenzin and Ben wandered off to a different part of the house, probably to start another fight. She turned when she heard Giovanni’s low laugh.
“What?”
He shook his head. “Our friend is singing a drinking song to that child.”
Beatrice couldn’t contain her smile. “Well, it’s a very soothing drinking song. Besides, probably better that she gets used to him now.”
He only closed his eyes as his shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“I mean,” Beatrice continued, “that baby’s going to have the most messed up sleep schedule in history with all these vampires doting on her.”
“Carwyn does indulge the child.”
“You’re just as bad! I saw you reading her a book at two in the morning the other night. Isn’t she supposed to be sleeping at that hour?”
“The Runaway Bunny is a classic of children’s literature, and an allegory of unexpected depth.”
“Sucker.”
He couldn’t hide the smile. “It’s not a... conventional family.”