A Fall of Water Page 61


“Good.”

“And yes, you will be somewhere very secluded.”

“Good.”

“Do me a favor, though, and try not to break any retaining walls, please.”

He smirked. “I’ll try my best, but I can’t make any promises.”

“You know what? You’re just going to buy this house from me. It’s sure to sustain damage, and I’ll never get the mental pictures out of my mind.”

“Done.”

“It’s not her, mind you. Picturing her—”

“It’s very important that you shut up now, Gavin.”

They were whipping over the Italian countryside, flying well out of range of human eyes. The air was cold, but the anticipation of seeing Beatrice warmed him to his soul. They flew over the rolling hills of Tuscany, past the lights that illuminated Milan, finally climbing the foothills, then the mountains of Northern Italy and into the Alps. They passed high above the water, and the lights from the homes along the lake’s edge glowed in the darkness. The long, uninterrupted line slowly scattered as they approached a large inlet where a single home was nestled between the hills and the water.

“Home, sweet home.” He heard Gavin sigh.

“You don’t actually have to sell me the house, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s for the best. I’ve been here too long, as it is.”

Giovanni thought for a moment, then smiled. “You mean you’ve slept with all the attractive women nearby?”

“Exactly. I’ve ruined them for all others, so it’s perfect for an old married man like you.”

“Thank you so much.”

Gavin dropped him off on the sloping dock that stretched into the water and flew into the house. He emerged a few minutes later with a bag of blood for himself and tossed another to Giovanni. He bit, ignoring the stale taste of the refrigerated blood and enjoying the peace of mind that came with not worrying about whether his meal was poisoned or not.

His reluctant host tossed him the empty bag and then took to the air without further ado as Giovanni paced the dock and tried to imagine how he would pass the hours until he saw Beatrice again. Deciding that he needed to cool down and wash the stink of Livia’s prison from him, he stripped off his tattered clothes and dove into the lake.

Giovanni swam for what might have been hours, up and down the lake. He went in the house and drank another bag of blood. He swam to the bottom of the lake and watched the moon track across the sky. The minutes dragged into hours while he waited for her.

He was floating on the surface of the water and staring up at the stars when he heard the splash. Startled, he sat up, only to be tackled from behind by two familiar arms.

“You’re here!” she cried, wrapping herself around him. “You’re really here.”

“Tesoro.” He groaned a moment before their mouths met in a furious kiss.

Her legs tangled with his. The force of her embrace took his breath away. He held her close, aching to feel her amnis spread over his skin. Giovanni tore his mouth from her kiss and stripped the clothes from her body until they were pressed together and their energy combined again. His hands raced over her and held her in an iron grasp.

Beatrice’s hand tugged at his arms, his back, pulling him close. Closer. Not close enough. In the blink of an eye, he grasped her hips and slid into her. She bit into his shoulder as they sank beneath the surface of the water.

And suddenly, he was home.

Chapter Sixteen

Lake Maggiore

Switzerland

June 2012

Water. Blood. Warm blood running down her throat. The grasp of hands. His hands. Her mate’s hands. Her mate’s blood.

He was back.

Beatrice felt his feet hit the lakebed a moment before Giovanni’s long legs began striding toward the shore. She remained wrapped around his body, clutching him tightly. He held her as they rose from the water only to kneel in the long grass at the lake’s edge. Steam rose from his body as he began moving in her again. Her hands dug into the earth around them and she arched her back, desperate for his touch.

Her first climax hit like a sudden wave, and she cried into the night. Her mate said nothing, only growling as his arm reached behind her, lifting her body as her head fell back. His fangs struck hard and deep in her throat, and he drank from her. The sharp bite threw her over another crest, but he did not halt feasting from her neck as she sobbed in relief and pulled him even closer. Her nails dug into his shoulders until he reared back, blood dripping from his lips and fangs gleaming white in the moonlight.

Blue fire swirled across his body, illuminating his arms and chest. His hands gripped Beatrice’s hips and she lifted her body to move with him. Fast. Faster. Every layer of civilization burned away in their desperate need. She could feel the water drawn to her skin, protecting it from the scorch of Giovanni’s hands, but nothing could protect her from the passionate assault of her mate’s body. She didn’t want it to. His eyes held hers as he moved, pinning her to the ground as effectively as his touch.

He finally pulled her up and pressed her against his chest. His hands tangled in her dripping hair and she felt him pull at the nape of her neck, angling her face up to his. Her skin hissed and a cloud of steam enveloped them. His hands and hips set a punishing rhythm, but his mouth was tender as it explored her face. He kissed her forehead, the swell of her cheeks, the arch of her brows. She felt his lips burn across the line of her jaw before his mouth dipped down and his fangs pierced the other side of her neck. She came again, and he clutched her closer as he drank. A low growl grew in his chest until he threw his head back and roared his release into the night.

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