The Broken Angel (10 page)

“Tea’s ready.” He watched as she stopped before him, his heart skipping a beat.

She raised one hand and gently brushed his jaw. He leaned into her caress, but didn’t dare take her in his arms. If he had, he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from devouring her mouth, and he didn’t want to scare her away with the intensity of his need.

“Samuel…” One of her hands around his neck, the other circling his waist, she pulled him toward her and kissed him softly on his right cheek, then on his left, then she brushed the point of his nose, both his eyelids, his jaws, his earlobe, his throat.

Although Martina was wreaking havoc through his senses, heightening his desire to new levels, he let her explore him. He would have burst in flames rather than stop her. Finally, she retraced her kisses and found his lips parted for her. Her intake of breath reverberated through his mouth and reached inside of him, leaving Samuel panting.

Steadying his resolve, he let go of the quilt folded over his shoulder, and finally embraced her. The moment her body was flush with his, he felt a foreign sense of belonging. Without breaking contact, he led her backward to his bedroom, caressing her back, pressing her body to his.

At the edge of the bed, she leaned away from him and whispered between ragged breaths, “I want you.”

He lowered her to the mattress, then lay beside her, his hands exploring her body over the layers of her clothes. She hooked her fingers on the buttons of his pants, but he stopped her, taking both her hands over her head. “Not yet.” Her body tensed, but he soothed her by taking her mouth for a long kiss, while his fingers drew circles over her wrists. “Let me adore you first.” She moaned in response, and he smiled. “You’re heaven.”

His hands slowly left her arms and traveled lower to her chest, where he slid his fingers under her shirt, flipping the mother of pearl buttons out of the buttonholes as he followed the placket down to her soft belly. He skimmed her navel and she shivered. While his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip, he dipped his fingers into the waist band of her pants and found the elastic of her panties. He pulled the string up, revealing pink lace.

She writhed under him. “Please, I can’t wait a moment longer.”

“And why should you?” His lips left her mouth to join his hands. Swiftly, while he kissed her softly, he lowered the zipper of her pants, then opened them enough for her to shimmy them down to her thighs. He trailed his fingers under her panties, tracing circles until he reached between her legs and tenderly stroked her. He slowly lowered his mouth, taking down her panties as well, and brushed her with his lips, while his free hand reached up and around her back to unhook her matching, lacy bra. He heard her sigh when he caressed the swell of her breast. He smiled against her and teased her other breast.

****

Martina let him touch her and she let herself feel. The emotions he unlocked were so powerful, tears fell freely as she soared higher and higher until she cried his name. He kept caressing her, his lips traveling back up, leaving small kisses over her nipples. When he finally looked up at her and saw her tears, he silently took her in his arms and cradled her against him.

She closed her eyes and pressed her face against his chest, inhaling his scent and listening to his heartbeats galloping the same speed as hers. Her senses both sated and more awake than ever, she started her own journey of discovery. Guided only by her touch, she felt his hard planes, and how well defined were his muscles under his shirt. “You’re majestic.” Emboldened by how he trembled under her exploration, she raised the hem of his shirt and slid her hand underneath, longing to see all of him. She raised her mouth to his for a deep kiss, then she lowered her head to his stomach to leave pecks all over his taut skin.

Her hands went to his pants, but as it had happened earlier, he stopped her from opening them. She protested, “Let me please you.”

He dropped a kiss on her head and raised her up to meet his eyes. “Tonight, it’s all about you, my angel.”

“Samuel—” A terrible suspicion grabbed hold of her thoughts, but she didn’t know how to ask him if he was physically able to make love. When he had talked about his accident, he had been vague and now she was starting to wonder why.

He turned her around, until she had her back to him and he wrapped her with his body. “It’s okay, really. I only want to sleep with you by my side.”

Despite her mind reeling with questions she might never have the courage to ask, she relaxed in his arms, and burrowed deeper in his embrace, feeling him all around her. As tiredness made her close her eyes and yawn, she felt safe and small beside him. “You are my giant.” His arms held her tighter for a moment as he whispered her name. She fell asleep soon after to the sound of fluttering wings.

The morning after, the smell of fresh-brewed espresso and baked pastries woke her. One brief look at the round, sage-green vintage clock on the nightstand told her she would call in sick after all. She had slept through the best part of the morning and wouldn’t reach Rome until the first hours of the afternoon in any case.

“Good morning.” Samuel appeared at the door, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and holding a tray set for two. “Care for some breakfast?”

She idly thought he looked bigger and bigger every time she laid eyes upon him, then she decided familiarity made her look at him in a different way. “I’m famished.” She patted the mattress by her side.

“I went down the bar twice to buy the croissants. You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake you over fresh pastry.” Balancing the tray full of food, he reached the bed and sat on the edge. “Those have apricot filling, those are with vanilla custard, those have nutella, and those are plain. Didn’t know which ones you’d like best. Do you want a splash of milk in your coffee, sugar, or black?” He accompanied his words by pointing at the various croissants.

Martina felt the compulsion to answer, “Just you, naked, now,” but she didn’t want to humiliate him if her suspicion was right. “Apricot, one teaspoon of sugar.”

Samuel filled a small porcelain plate with her croissant, put it in front of her, then prepared her coffee as she had requested and handed her the matching espresso cup. They ate breakfast, basking in the midmorning spring breeze. The big window taking a large portion of the right wall had stained-glass panes that were semi-open, revealing the view of the small square full of vases with roses in bloom. Terracotta tiles and plastered walls in muted shades of pale yellows and pink framed the square, while green and light-blue shutters and doors complemented the buildings.

“This is a magical place.” She felt his arms circling her waist from behind. She leaned against him, and laid her head on the crook between his shoulder and neck. “You are magical.”

He lowered his mouth to hers for the sweetest of kisses. “I want to show you a few places.”

She finished her breakfast, took a shower, and was ever so glad that the night before, at the last moment, she had grabbed her sexier pair of jeans and top and threw them in the bag with her necessities. Wet from the shower, she wore them, then reached Samuel who was having a second cup of espresso in the kitchen. His grin and double take when she entered the room were all she needed to feel on top of the world.

He made a come hither gesture at her. “You are a vision.”

She sat on his lap, and he fed her small pieces from the croissant he had been eating.

Much to her regret, a few minutes later they were out of his house, and walking through the medieval streets of Todi. Strolling through the main square, they met a local artist, Alessandro, who Samuel seemed to know well, and he invited them to visit his gallery, located just around the corner under an arched patio. Martina fell in love with several of his paintings, but one in particular stole her heart. The unframed canvas lay on the floor, semi-hidden by other works, but she spotted it right away. It depicted an angel hunched over as if in pain, looking down at his open hands, his dark, misshaped wings stretched behind him, black feathers raining down on him.

“He’s broken.” Tears sprung to her eyes. Without any desire to do so, she had compared Samuel to the figure in the painting and the thought left her bereft.

Samuel’s soft touch on her arm immediately grounded her. She blinked, unable to explain what had just happened to her. Self-conscious, she had bared herself before Samuel and also a complete stranger. They thanked the artist, then left the gallery. They walked to one of the many lookouts Todi was famous for, and sat on the balustrade overlooking rolling hills and
casali
. The ancient country houses easily recognizable among the greenery for the walls only covered by plaster in places revealing the tuff bricks underneath and the beige tiled roofs.

“I always wished one day to retire to the country and own one of those
casali
. Even the smallest, more decrepit of them would do. I would spend my summers sitting on the porch, looking at the vineyards and sunflower fields.” Martina had folders on her computer where she saved pictures and articles on how to restore ancient constructions. She hadn’t added anything to it in a while. Her divorce had sucked all the joy from her, leaving her dry.

Samuel stirred by her side. “One day, you’ll have that one.” He pointed at one house resting atop a ridge, its structure simple but beautiful. A long, winding dirt road followed the bends of the hill below, bordered by thin cypresses and looked big enough only for one car.

She could see herself driving a small, light-blue Fiat Five Hundred, carting food and other necessities back and forth along that road. She could see herself cooking in that kitchen with the earth excavated in the rock. She could see herself sleeping in that narrow bed where two people had to hug all night long in order to not to fall on the floor. She could dream of a happy life.

“Thank you.” She sought his embrace and he immediately took her in.

“For what?” He brushed the top of her head.

She raised her chin to look at him in the eyes. “For reminding me that life can be beautiful.”

They sat, admiring the sight for a while, then Samuel jumped down, circled her waist, and lowered her to the floor as well. Once again, she wondered at how strong he was. They went to the apartment to grab their stuff, then took the car to visit the city of Orvieto that was less than an hour from Todi. She had visited the
Duomo
of Orvieto only once during the same school trip in high school and her art teacher had taken the whole class to see the famous cathedral. She hadn’t noticed anything back then. Now, she found the church breathtaking.

“Too bad I didn’t bring my camera.” Martina would have shot hundreds of pictures of the cathedral’s façade alone.

“Then we’ll have to come back soon.” He squeezed her hand.

They had been walking hand in hand since leaving the art gallery. When it was time to finally take the car and drive back to Rome, her heart shrank in disappointment. He surprised her with one last stop at the nearby village of Porano, where he knew a lady who ran a small catering business that served the local restaurants and a few private clients. On their way to the small medieval hamlet, he called the owner, Barbara, to place an order on two breakfast Bundt cakes.

“La Bubbola is so busy, by the time we reach Porano, those cakes are already gone,” he explained to her as he left Orvieto and took a small road that bordered acres and acres of fields full of wild flowers.

Half an hour later, they were on the highway, the car smelled of bakery, and one of the two cakes was already gone. Martina had eaten her fair share of it, and as they progressed toward Rome, her sense of dread mixed with nausea to create a hole in her stomach.

She hunched up and clutched her waist. “Tonight, I must go back to my place.”

****

“Of course.” Samuel had prolonged their time together, knowing that once they entered the city limits, the magic would be over. He knew he shouldn’t entertain the idea of furthering their relationship. The more time he spent with her, the harder it would be to give her up. He had been able to resist making love to her the night before, but he wouldn’t stop next time. The longing to be one with her had been maddening. Her body, so soft and warm in his arms, had been too tempting. Her sweetness had been too tempting. But he wouldn’t take her without revealing his true self. She deserved better than deception. He hated lying to her, if only by omission. He wished he could be as direct with her as he had been a lifetime ago with Sahadeva.

“What are you?” Sahadeva asked Samuel when he woke in his arms. Sahadeva was still wet, the salty water leaving white strikes over his exposed tan skin as it dried, his long fingers brushing his feathers with awe in his big eyes.

Samuel smiled down at him, the undercurrent of sweet pleasure riding his senses. “I am an angel.”

Sahadeva smiled back at him before accepting Samuel’s kiss. His lips parted, and there was no hesitation, no doubt, no fear as Sahadeva explored Samuel’s body with a gentle touch and pulled him down with him.

“May I ask you a personal question?”

She startled him, and for a moment, he wondered if he had voiced his thoughts out loud. He frowned, uncertain if he could answer truthfully, but her apartment was looming closer and he didn’t want the day to end yet. “Sure.” He angled toward her.

She didn’t ask her question right away, but when she did she rushed the words. “What happened to you?”

He bit his lower lip. “Just an accident.” He looked at the traffic slowly forming, and mentally thanked the roadblock ahead of them. Another archeological finding had disrupted the viability in Rome, and the alternate route would add a good twenty minutes to their ride. Even though the conversation was steering to a direction he didn’t like, he didn’t want to part ways with her yet.

Martina sat sideways and brought her knees up on the seat. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it. Really. It’s just that sometimes I wonder—”

“I fell.” He wished he could tell her the whole truth. He wanted her to look at the real him, not at this shell of a man. He wanted her to see him, and not be scared by how different he really was from her. Would she make love to him then? Would she even believe him?