Jezebel (7 page)

“Darling, all that make-up you wear—it doesn’t cover up your emotions. You wear them plain as the sun shines through that window.” Jezebel nodded to the sunlight coming through the window.

“Har, har,” she replied dryly. “I tried. It didn’t work,” she admitted.

“Tried what?”

“Talking. I asked them about their days. Three nights in a row. I gave up after that.”

“Did they not answer you?” Jezebel asked indignantly.

“No, no. They did, but that was it. They just answered vaguely and that was that.”

Jezebel scrutinized her. It made her uncomfortable. “What happened to your family?”

“Tragedy.” Annabelle knew her answer was childish and dramatic but it accurately summed up the truth.

“Expand on that kiddo,” Jezebel said with a pointed look.

Annabelle sighed. She really didn’t want to get in to it. “I had a brother. He’s dead.” She pursed her lips in irritation.

“Ahh, sorry to hear that. And since his death things at home have been . . .”

“Miserable!” she threw her hands in the air and slammed them down on her thighs. “It’s like cancer in that house. Everything that tries to live there is devoured from the inside out,” she blurted, sounding far more hysterical than she would have liked.

“Maybe you need to try harder.” Jezebel’s voice was firm, but gentle.

“Me?” she squawked. “I’m the child. They are the adults.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“You’re an adult now. Don’t leave all the responsibility on their shoulders. If
you
want the family back,
you
should fight for it,” Jezebel answered.

Annabelle’s shoulders sagged. She could feel the weight of that suggestion without needing to think on it.

“It’s impossible. They don’t speak to each other, let alone me. We don’t talk about him ever. It’s eerie silence in my house.”

“Be the noise then,” Jezebel said. “Be the light. Be the laughter. It’s contagious you know, joy. A smile is the best make-up you can wear. Show them how it’s done. You are only home for a little more than five months- then you’ll be off to college. Take this time and
do
something with it.” Jezebel arched a challenging brow at her.

“How? I can’t just walk around laughing at nothing, smiling at the walls. They’ll think I’m nuts,” she crowed, frustrated.

“What do you remember from before your brother died?”

“He didn’t
die.
He was killed.” Her words were venomous as they left her mouth.

Jezebel’s eyes open wide. “That’s terrible.” Annabelle nodded her agreement.

“I was only ten. I remember my mom’s perfume, my dad’s big hand holding mine. I remember making cookies together, licking the batter from the mixing spoon. My parents used to come into my room to tuck me in, except when my dad was gone for business.” Annabelle chewed her lip to keep from saying any more. She couldn’t just air her family’s dirty secrets to any stranger. They had a reputation to keep up.

“Does he travel often?” Jezebel questioned.

“Yeah. He’s gone almost two weeks every month.”

Jezebel nodded. “Well, make cookies with your mom then. Turn music on. Dance around. Hold your dad’s hand. Hug them. That’s a good start.”

“I think they’d die of shock,” she stated dryly. Her hands bunched into fists.

“So let them!” Annabelle startled and stared at her wide-eyed. “What are you going to lose by trying?”

Annabelle shrugged. “Nothing I guess.”

“Then do it.”

She mustered some grit and jutted her chin out. “Can we talk about something else?” Annabelle needed to change the topic. There was only so much family talk her heart could bear. Her pain and grief over the matter made a solid fist in her belly. A tangled knot of emotion forever on the edge of bubbling over the edge.

“If you promise to try, yes.”

“Fine, Jez. I promise.” She gave in.

“Good, good. Now, our story, are you liking it?”

“It’s a little dull. But sure. You tell it well and I trust you when you say there’s a twist,” she admitted.

Jezebel clapped her hands together. “Well now that you know how they’ve met and how she was feeling for him- let’s skip ahead a bit yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, let’s see . . . Paris, 1985.”

“So much for skipping ahead a bit,” she laughed.

“A lot can happen in a year’s time. Now,
shh!
I’m trying to talk here,” Jezebel teased.

Chapter 6

Celeste

Paris 1985

“Celeste, hurry up!” Mara cried from their room. “He’s been waiting ten minutes already.”

“For crap’s sake woman, I’m almost ready,” she answered. Checking herself in the mirror one last time, she decided the reflection staring back at her was as good as it was going to get. She pushed through the door and glanced at Mara.

“Damn. You are smokin,’” Mara said.

“Very funny,” she responded dryly.

“No really, Cece. You look rad. Gabriel is going to cream himself when he sees you.” Celeste giggled at her friend’s choice of words. Mara was all piss and vinegar, which was exactly what Celeste needed. She tended to be too much of an introvert, too polite and too pleasing. She hated to see others irritated at her. She loved bringing smiles to others faces. Mara and Matteo, each in their own way, had helped her come into her own.

Celeste and Mara had spent the last two days shopping for her trip to Italy with Gabriel . He was whisking her away for the weekend. Even her parents were thrilled they were getting away.

In a year, he had managed to charm her parents and
her.
Even Mara and Matteo liked him. Well, Matteo a little less than Mara. She’d understood why Gabriel was so possessive when it came to Matteo.

They’d had their first big fight after he walked into her dorm room and Matteo was in her bed. Sleeping, of course. They’d had a fantastic night out doing a pub crawl and crashed, drunk, when they got home. It wasn’t anything new and there was nothing sexual about it, but Gabriel had all but punched Matteo in the face when he’d seen them lying in bed together. She was so mad that she hadn’t talked to Gabriel for a week. The things he’d screamed at her were terrible.

Matteo and Mara were her best friends and she couldn’t imagine life without them. Gabriel was so mad he’d asked her to choose, and although she had fallen head over heels in love with him, she would not abandon Matteo because a jealous man asked her to.

Obviously it had all worked out over the course of the last year.

Mostly.

Matteo and Gabriel weren’t each other’s biggest fans, but they put on a front in order to make her happy. Shaking the thoughts from her head she picked up her travel bag and kissed Mara on the cheek. She really needed this break. Gabriel’s work at her parent’s company kept him busy; too busy. Her school this year was stressful and kept her busy; too busy. They desperately needed this time together to unwind and just be.

Smiling, Celeste all but skipped down the hallway, stairs and out the front door of the dormitory. Her stomach was riddled with knots. The anticipation of the weekend to come set her heart to a frantic beat.

Gabriel scooped her up as she pushed through the door. She squealed with delight and clung to him as he spun her around. He stole her breath away.

“Good morning, mon amour.”
My love.
She loved it when he called her that. She peppered his face with kisses as he set her to her feet.

“Morning!”

“Are you ready for our vacation?”

“So ready. I don’t think I can stand waiting another minute.”

“Could have fooled me. Making me wait out here for ten minutes,” he said and gave her a sly smile.

She playfully smacked his arm. “You deserve nothing less than a beautiful woman on your arm. I wanted to look pretty for you.”

“Celeste, you always look beautiful, mon amour, you know that.” She blushed. He was always telling her that. She still hadn’t become immune to hearing it. She pushed up on her toes and kissed him. He groaned into her mouth and wrapped an arm around her as they walked toward his car. He set her bag in the trunk alongside his and opened her door for her. He was always doing sweet things for her. Always thoughtful and respectful. His linen shirt was unbuttoned at the top. It made her mouth water. His hard, defined chest barely peeking out at her. Suddenly she wanted to skip the vacation and rush to his apartment.

Shaking the thoughts from her head she laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he asked sliding into the driver’s seat.

“Nothing,” she laughed again.

“Something!”

“I was thinking I want to skip Italy and spend the weekend in your bed. You look delicious.”

Gabriel groaned. “The things you do to me Celeste. If you only knew.”

“Oh, I think I have an idea,” she responded.

The flight from Paris to Rome was a short two hours. Gabriel spoiled her with champagne on the flight and first class tickets. She knew he was doing well for himself but this seemed like too much to spend on a weekend getaway. From there they rented a car and drove another hour to the Garden of Ninfa. Described as a place that had inspired artists, she was longing to see the secluded, picturesque garden set in fairy tale like surroundings and Gabriel knew it.

Instead of locking themselves away together in a fancy hotel for two nights he was taking her to a garden and she couldn’t have loved him more for it. Breath hissed out of her when they entered the stunning microclimate that allowed plants of all varieties to thrive in the location’s natural greenhouse environment. The roses, maple trees and lavenders lining paths, a spectacular bamboo pavilion and even tropical plants such as banana trees. Add the ruins with creeping vegetation, the hypnotizing crystal clear river. It was almost too much beauty to take in.

“My god Gabriel, it’s heaven,” she breathed.

“It’s better than I’d thought, and the look on your face is priceless, mon amour.” She grinned and grabbed his hand anxious to wander further.

Greeted by a tour guide, they waited with a group of about thirty others before starting the tour. Celeste felt as though she was in a catatonic trance. She barely heard anything the guide mentioned as they went. The place was simply magical.

“Alright,” Gabriel started, “start telling me what the plants really mean.” She smiled at him before looking around.

“That,” she said, then pointed, “is lupine. It represents imagination. And there!” She again pointed excitedly. “Gloxinia; love at first sight.” She gazed up into Gabriel’s eyes. His smile reached ear to ear. It seemed he got endless pleasure from making her happy. He cupped her chin and kissed her briefly.

“And those?” he asked, pointing to a patch of irises.

“Irises. Faith, hope, wisdom, courage, and admiration. The purple iris is considered the emblem of France,” she informed him. He laughed and scooped her up in his arms.

“My little flower brainiac, I do love you.”

“I love you too Gabriel. So much. This is fantastic.” She kissed his jaw before nuzzling her face into his neck while he held her. She loved the smell of him. She loved everything about the man.

“One last one. What’re those?” Gabriel asked pointing to a blue flower.

“Ahh, those are Himalayan blue poppies. They are supposed to represent sleep, peace, and death: sleep because of the opium extracted from them, and death because of the common blood-red color.”

“Sounds dangerous, like those bleeding hearts you first told me about.”

“They are. Harmless to view, but don’t go picking them,” she said and winked.

They toured the garden for a little over an hour. Celeste was in her element. Excitement swept through her at every turn, at every new marvel. The garden was enchanting. When they’d viewed all they could, they left for dinner.

Gabriel picked a small restaurant in Prato di Coppola. Their table overlooked Lago di Fogliano.
The spectacular orange sunset was shared with sexy man, delectable wine and witty banter. By the time they arrived at their hotel for the evening it took all of Celeste’s energy to even think of removing her shoes. It had been whirlwind day.

As she plummeted to the bed Gabriel laughed.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” she blew out, feeling the day’s activities catch up to her.

“Not
too
tired I hope.” He smirked while looming over her.

She knew that tone. She knew that innuendo. Suddenly her body came alive. “I suppose if you can help me remove my shoes I might get my energy back.” She smiled coyly at him.

“I’m certain that can be arranged.”

He knelt at the end of the bed where her feet dangled and softly pulled each shoe off of her. His hands worked methodical circles into her arches, kneading the stress of walking the day away little by little. Bit by bit she relaxed into his touch. If he kept it up, she’d pass out, and she didn’t want to miss the fun.

As if reading her mind, Gabriel’s hands moved north. His fingers ascended, their progress achingly slow, over her calves and thighs. A gasp flew from her mouth at the teasing pleasure. He continued to trail his fingertips in a straight line up the insides of her thighs. Grabbing at his wrists with both hands, she tried to stop him . . . or urge him on. She didn’t know. What she did know was when he touched her, the sky and the ground switched places.

He pushed her dress up slowly, exposing her belly, before hooking his thumbs into her panties and sliding them down over her legs.

“I need to taste you Celeste.” She felt her cheeks heat. He was a professional at making her blush.

“Yes,” she urged. “Please.”

“Please what, Celeste?”

He loved to hear her use her voice. In the bedroom, she still didn’t have a confident voice of her own.

“Please, Gabriel, taste me.”

He spread her legs, and kissed the inside of her thighs. Each kiss moved closer and closer to her core. When his mouth worked its magic she moaned deeply. She was lust-drunk and weak. He took his time as he discovered every place on her body. He turned her inside out with his reverence. Her insides ached with need as he worked the sensitive bundle of nerves. Gabriel wasn’t rushing and she wasn’t sure how much she could sustain. He definitely raised the bar for any other man to be compared to. With a bewitching flick of his tongue, the graze of his teeth in just the right spot she was lost. His touch ignited her skin.

Gabriel’s head and hands came up. His hot breath on her skin set her soul on fire. He worshipped every inch of her skin before raising himself above her. She wove her fingers through his hair and pulled his mouth to hers.

“I love you.”

“Ditto, mon amour.”

“I . . .” His lips captured her words as he sank into her. Her breathing labored as she neared the precipice and stars began to dance behind her closed eyes. Every muscle in her body tightened and was set on the brink of imploding when she buried her face against his wide chest. It built slowly, flickering in low but powerful waves of fire through her entire body until she ignited underneath him. Splintering into a wildfire that blazed to life. She was lost in her pleasure, lost to the sensations holding her body captive. She clung to the edge, never wanting the moment to end until she no longer could. They came together, came apart, free fell through space and became one. Sounds escaped them but were incoherent. Each wave moved from her breast to her core.

As they laid in a tangled, sweaty mess, nose-to-nose, toes brushing and hands tucked between their bodies, they talked. They talked about music and food and movies. They traded dreams and history until their voices were scratchy and their eyelids dropped shut.

~
***
~

Celeste woke to Gabriel nuzzling her neck, his leg between hers as he slid his cheek across her back. His arm draped over her hip, fingers splaying on her stomach possessively. She smiled as shivers trickled across her skin when his warm, soft tongue licked the sensitive skin below her ear.

“Good morning,” she breathed, the blood in her veins burned and every inch of her flushed hot, her skin stinging at his touch.

“Morning, mon amour.”

“Sleep well?” she hedged.

“Always do when it’s with you.” He kissed the shell of her ear. She sighed.

Her smile grew. She wanted to finish college before she agreed to move in with him. He’d recently asked and she’d found it ridiculously hard to deny him, but she had. She had three semesters left. It wasn’t that long to wait. His little comments didn’t go unnoticed. He took every chance he could to slip something in about spending long nights together, especially when their schedules didn’t jive, which was often lately. She settled into the feeling of his arms around her, of his breath at her ear, and reveled in it.

Hours later, they finally unraveled from each other. Celeste couldn’t stand a moment longer without coffee. She had thrown on a shift dress to run to the lobby and secure two cups of the liquid gold. Returning to the room she heard the shower running so she set Gabriel’s coffee on the table and curled up in the chair at the window. They had a spectacular view overlooking the lake. The coffee slid down her throat and started to instantly work its magic. In no time at all she would be ready for the day.

The downside of coffee, she found, was that it ran right through her. After fifteen minutes of blissful peace, a breathtaking view and delicious coffee, she required the bathroom. Knocking on the door first, she waited for Gabriel’s grunt of approval before opening it. Steam and the smell of men’s aftershave filled the thick air. Gabriel stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around his waist, chest bare. Water dripped down his skin, giving it a glistening effect.