Chapter 29
It was late afternoon when we landed in Venice. When Gabriel said Italy, I thought Milan, Florence or even Bologna.
For some reason, I hadn’t thought of Venice, I had only seen it in pictures and movies- the blue water flowing in tunnels, gondolas decorated with colourful flowers floating on it, houses built on both sides and bridges over it where lovers often walked holding hands.
I was enchanted to say the least.
We were staying in a villa. I had argued with Gabriel saying we didn’t need a villa for just the two of us and we could’ve stayed at a hotel, but he shut me up saying hotels were for people who weren’t rich enough for a villa.
I had pouted because I actually loved hotels and their breakfast spreads, but didn’t complain when I got inside our lodging for the next few days. It was two floors, with vintage architecture and a spiral stairs in the living room that led to a single bedroom upstairs, had a fully stocked kitchen, and even a small garden area on one side while the windows of the bedroom overlooked a water tunnel.
The best part of the house, however, was the painted ceilings. Stories of Roman Gods and Goddesses and epic battles depicted in colour on the ceiling of every room, with the one of the bedroom being that of two n*ked lovers with their hands almost touching, but not.
Gabriel had excused himself because of an unexpected issue that arose at work while we were on the way here, and it would take him over an hour. He asked me to get some rest since we were both severely jet lagged.
As soon as
as he left, I had ripped open the bag that Luna had packed for me, and it wasn’t so bad. It had a lot of satin–satin dresses, satin nightwear, overcoats, jeans with a corset, some long dresses and some short, some formal and some casual, and many comfort clothes. I had smiled, because Luna knew me well. The next bag, however, was just make–up
and lingerie.
The lingerie…
There was so much. I didn’t even own most of them. They all had tags on. She had shopped for me. Most of them were made of lace, with straps that I didn’t even know went where, some too tiny to cover even what they were supposed to.
I gulped looking at them. The two times that I had been n*ked in front of Gabriel, I was in an unmatched cotton bra and
underwear.
And now, there was this.
A part of me was just giddy to see his reaction.
I took a quick hot shower and changed into sweats, and got into bed, letting my jet lag take the better of me. I don’t know what time it was when someone switched off the lamps and covered me with a duvet.
I don’t know how long I dozed off for because the next time I opened my eyes, the sunlight was gone. It was dark outside the blinds, and Gabriel was asleep on the other end of the bed, a respectable distance between us.
I reached for my on the night stand in
in the dark dronning a water bottle I didn’t know was there.
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Gabriel stirred beside me as I read the time. 3:37 A.M.
I had slept for almost twelve hours straight.
“You’re awake?” Gabriel’s groggy voice filled the silence and I turned to him as he struggled to open his eyes.
“You should call the doctor on me if I slept any more than this,” I joked, getting up. “I’m sorry to wake you up. Please go back to sleep, I’m downstairs.”
“Nonsense.” He mumbled. His voice was hoarse and grainy and so hot. “I’m waking up too. Before I could stop him, he was sitting on the bed, stretching.
I wondered if I should get into bed. “When did you sleep?”
*Just a couple hours after you. Figured we can roam around wherever you want if we get some rest first.”
“Hm. Yes.” I nodded while grabbing my toiletry pouch from where my bag was, and heading to the bathroom to brush and freshen up.
When I came out, was up on his toes. “Are you hungry?” He asked just in time as my stomach rumbled.
I nodded. “Who’s going to deliver at this hour?”
“Nob*dy. The kitchen is stocked. We’ll cook.”
“You cook?” I raised an eyebrow.
“A little.”
That is how we found ourselves in the kitchen an hour later. I loved baking and basic cooking, not more. Between the two of us, we knew just about enough to not burn down the kitchen.
“You’re rolling the bread wrong.” Gabriel commented unimpressed while looking up from the stool where he was chopping bell peppers.
“Okay, Gordan Ramsey.” I rolled my eyes at him, “If I’m doing it wrong, why don’t you do it yourself?”
“Gladly.” In two long strides, Gabriel was standing behind me, his hands on either side of me and his chin touching my temple.
I froze. “I asked you to do it… not to teach me.”
“Now what’s the fun in that?” He held my hands over the rolling pin, helping me softly roll the dough into a circle that was much thicker than mine, but I barely focused on that. I could only make sense of one thing at a time when he was around, and that thing right now happened to be his touch on me, and his breath fanning my face and neck.
“See. All done.” He almost sounded proud as he moved away from me, making me miss his touch on me as I half heartedly spread the pizza sauce.
Another hour later, we successfully had pizzas ready for breakfast. It wasn’t something that an Italian chef would probably
d
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approve, but it was decent.
Having it by our window overlooking the waters below glimmering with the first rays of light as sun began rising overhead painting the sky in ethereal shades of a pastel blue interspersed with a blush of pink, forming its own cotton candy.
There was a certain magic in the air as we ate while Gabriel talked to me about work at his company and what my role would be if I agreed to take a spot there. If. I wanted to capture that moment forever, especially when we were done eating and Gabriel leaned over from his side, his thumb gently caressing my lower lip to wipe off the remnants of the sauce while his eyes bore into me.
For a moment there, it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered except the way he looked at me and my desire for him to k*ss me.
But he didn’t.
He pulled away, and then the moment was broken.
At noon, Gabriel was d
dressed in a white shirt with rolled up sleeves and pants, while I was dressed in a matching white dress that was completely backless, fitted till my b*dy and then free flowing till my mid–thighs with pump heels as we walked through an old basalica that was almost completely empty despite it’s tall and lit up walls and hand paintings in every single corner.
Despite the house we were staying in being full of similar paintings, I was still fascinated by them.
“I figured you’d appreciate this place, being a painter and all.” Gabriel whispered because even the lightest mumbles carried around the old structure we were standing in.
“I do,” I barely spared him a glance. “This is so… unreal.” They were painted centuries ago, and they still looked fresh in the form of their technique, their ideologies, the hidden meanings.
Gabriel stood beside me quietly that afternoon as I wrapped my hands around his arm and dragged him to each corner, appreciating every little detail I could, even taking pictures of some that I thought his mother would like.
We had lunch at a local café, spent our evening at another archeological structure. In the evening, we went shopping before we returned back to our villa.
The sun had set when we were back in our room and my heels ached when I removed them and threw them off, standing in front of the mirror to remove the gold chain around me.
I was busy tr
busy trying to unhook it when my eyes caught Gabriel’s through the mirror as he shut the door and turned to
face
- me.
I froze. “Can you- Can you help me?”
He stood behind me, unhooking the chain with just one hand and keeping it on the dresser.
He was about to take a step back when my hands reached the zip of my dress and even though it was well within my reach, I pretended I couldn’t reach it.
“Can you help me with my dress as well?” I asked, not breaking eye contact through the mirror.
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He stepped closer to me, closer than he needed to, his fingers unnecessarily tracing the skin of my back till he reached the end of the zipper.
I could feel goosebumps on every inch of my skin as he looked into my eyes while unzipping my dress, but didn’t stop there. He took its thin straps off my shoulder and pushed them down my arm till the dressed pooled at my feet, leaving me in nothing but my lingerie.
I watched his reaction in the mirror, the way his muscles flexed, his eyes left mine and gazed down at my b*dy, stopping at the lingerie, and with the way they darkened making him lose the self control that he had been keeping since the moment we landed in Venice, I knew wearing the red thong was the right choice.
