The Raven (The Florentine #1)(129)
He took her hand and kissed it, running his thumb across her life line.
“Your name suits you, you know. Raven—the beautiful, fearless black bird. I’ve been in mourning for centuries but nothing has distressed me as much as losing you.”
“You aren’t the only one who was hurt.” She tried to swallow back the rising emotion.
“Forgive me.” He cupped her cheek. “I came to you tonight because I couldn’t allow the light of my life to be extinguished without seeing you one last time.”
“Then tell me,” she whispered.
His expression faltered. “I lack the words, in any language.”
“Just say it.” She reached up on tiptoe and placed her hand against his face. “Say what you feel, William. Be brave.”
His fingers closed over her wrist, holding her hand to him.
“When I spoke to you about hope the night I took you to the Consilium, my hope was that you could see beyond the callous contract I was foolishly trying to make. That you would stay with me and be mine because you wanted me as desperately as I wanted you.”
She gazed up at him sadly. “We’re from two different worlds.”
“Maybe we can create a new one.”
“Only at great risk to you and your city.”
He inhaled deeply, his eyes fixed on hers.
“What are a thousand cities to me if I am without you?”
Raven searched his eyes, which were dark and desperate. She felt his fingers nervously tighten around her wrist.
“Are you certain?” she asked, returning his stare.
“If I lose you, I lose everything. You are the only goodness in my world.”
“You’ve been alone a long time. You suffered a great loss. I’m sorry for that,” she said softly. “I can understand your reticence to tell secrets. But love isn’t secretive or one-sided.”
“It isn’t,” he said fiercely.
“Then tell me.”
He kissed her forehead. “Je t’aim.”
Raven savored the moment, letting the old words burn into her consciousness.
She took in his expression, his eyes, his posture. He was clearly earnest and unsure how he would be received.
She answered him by bringing their lips together.
He kissed her intently but reverently, his mouth desperately seeking their connection.
At length they parted, and he brought their foreheads together.
“I didn’t know what darkness was until I lost you.”
“You found me again. I love you, too.”
He kissed her, this time more passionately, his hands moving to press against her backside. Then, with a devilish smile, he tucked her under his arm.
“Hold tight,” he ordered.
She clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck. “Where are we going?”
“To celebrate by loving one another with our bodies.” He squeezed her waist.
She peered down at their perch. “Not here.”
He laughed. “Certainly not. Not even I am bold enough to join with you on holy ground.” He moved to whisper in her ear. “There is another venue I think will please you.”
He tightened his hold on her and they leapt from the dome, to a lower half dome, before descending the great stone structure.
Chapter Fifty-five
From the terrace atop the Loggia dei Lanzi, one can see the Palazzo Vecchio, the Uffizi, and the beautiful and spacious Piazza Signoria. One can also see Brunelleschi’s dome rising in the distance.
Not that Raven and William were looking.
They were in one another’s arms, passionately kissing against a wall.
“I can’t believe you’re in my arms,” he murmured, stroking her neck.
She hummed at his words, returning his embrace with eagerness.
William’s tongue teased her mouth, slipping inside before retreating. He enjoyed reciprocity, the way she responded to his touch.
Her back was to the wall, his body flush with hers. His hand paid homage to her collarbone, smoothing across her skin and tracing the neckline of her dress.
She shivered in anticipation and need, her mind and heart full of everything that was William—the one who truly loved her, all of her, as herself.
She tried to pour her love and affection into her eager touches, exploring his broad shoulders and the muscles that rippled from underneath his shirt before dropping down to appreciate the planes of his chest.
Growling, William brought their hips together.
She scratched his scalp, smiling against his lips at his guttural reaction.
He nipped her lower lip and kissed along her jawline, pressing himself more tightly against her.
“Are you cold?” He moved so he could see her face.
“It’s July.” She grinned.
He placed his palm to the wall beside her hip. “I don’t sense temperatures as well as a human. The stone must be cool against your back.”
“All I feel is you.”
With a tilt of her head, she exposed her neck. He brushed her black hair aside and pulled some of her flesh into his mouth, sucking gently.
“Feed from me,” she whispered.
His lips descended her throat, kissing a path to her shoulder. “No.”
“Why not?”
William lifted his head. Even in the semidarkness Raven could see he was conflicted.