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I blink at him, realizing that he took me seriously. I hadn’t thought he would—but I realize that was an error. Gabriel always takes me seriously. “I didn’t think you’d say yes,” I murmur, as he puts the car in gear and starts down the narrow road that will lead us through the estate.
“I’m happy to teach you anything you want to learn.” His voice drops a little as he says it, the edges husky, and my heart stutters in my chest. His hand closes over the knob of the stick shift, tightening as if he’s stopping himself from touching me. As if he realized what he just said, and how it sounded.
I swallow hard, looking away as we drive through the estate. It’s even more beautiful up close, green and verdant in the summer. Most of the land is being used or cultivated in some way—the vineyards, pastures, a large garden that I see out near a handful of outbuildings, but as we get closer to the lake, it gets a little less tamed. I see a field of red flowers, blooming wildly near the treeline, and nearby the shimmering silver shape of the lake, surrounded by lush grass.
The ‘road,’ which turns into something resembling more of a path as we near the lake, ends just a little bit before the edge of it. Gabriel parks the car, barely managing to turn off the engine before Cecelia and Danny are already clambering out of their sides.
“Wait before you get in the water!” he calls out, opening his door and jumping down. I slide out, too, not waiting for Gabriel to come around and open my door. I need a minute to catch my breath, and organize my thoughts. His being preoccupied with Cecelia and Danny gives me a chance to do just that.
I look around, trying not to think about how exposed we are out here. How easily someone looking for us could see us. I want to enjoy this. To be happy out here in the warm sunshine, to be relaxed, to enjoy these moments with Gabriel and the two children that I’ve come to love. Having had a taste of what that feels like, back in New York before everything fell apart again, I can feel myself craving it.
And not just the feeling. Him.
“Bella.”
His voice is so close that I jump. I feel a hand on my hip and turn, seeing Gabriel an inch away. My gaze drops to his mouth before I can stop myself, and I feel him tense, going very still. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Cecelia spreading out the blanket on the grass, and I start to pull away, but Gabriel’s grip tightens. My pulse speeds up immediately, my breath catches in my throat.
He never touches me like this. Insistently, without asking permission or going slowly first. It should scare me, given the way I used to feel—but with him, I realize, it no longer does. Instead, all I feel is a bloom of heat that starts in the pit of my stomach and trails outwards, making me have to fight not to lean into him.
“Stop thinking about what could happen,” he says quietly, his voice low and insistent, firm in a way that oddly sends shivers over my skin. “I’ll take care of you. I wanted us to have a nice afternoon out here—all four of us. No one is going to interrupt or ruin that. I promise. Bella—please.” His gaze meets mine, and my breath catches again. “Try to relax.”
He says it gently, and I can hear a plea in it. A plea to trust him. To let this place make me feel safe. At home. And I want it.
I’m so afraid to lose it again.
I nod silently, following him to where Cecelia and Danny are sitting on the spread-out picnic blanket. Cecelia is primly setting out the food for lunch—a container of small pickles, jars of jam, a container of fruit, sourdough bread and crackers, and sliced charcuterie meats and cheeses. There’s a jar of lemonade and one of what looks suspiciously like wine. When I look over at Gabriel, he smirks, reaching for it and tucking it away in the bag as we crowd around the food and start to eat.
My chest squeezes tightly, and I look away. When I glance back at him, I can see that the carefree expression has fallen off of his face, and he looks slightly more subdued, although he’s still cheerful.
The food is delicious. There’s just something about eating out in the sun—I’ve always loved having picnics in Central Park with Clara, back in New York. And out here in the Italian countryside, next to the sparkling lake with the sun shining down on us, it feels even more special.
When Cecelia and Danny jump up and run down to the water, I start to pack up the remnants of the food, not looking at Gabriel. I feel him shift next to me, and when I look up, he’s staring out at the lake as the two children splash at the edge of it.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I don’t know what to say. He wants me to feel safe, but I can’t. And as for the rest of it?—
This afternoon feels like the day that he and I went to the botanical gardens in the city. When, for one afternoon, I let myself pretend that this was more than it was—let myself just enjoy the way he makes me feel. That afternoon ended with me on the hood of his Ferrari.
And if we were alone right now?—
My pulse leaps in my throat. I have a flash of him rolling me over on the blanket, hovering over me, warm and smelling of spice and oranges, his mouth moving over my skin. I can feel my heartbeat fluttering in my throat, and I can’t think of a single word to say as Gabriel looks at me, his gaze meeting mine.
He leans over, taking the wine out again. He flips the glass top off, tilting it as he takes a sip, and then holds it out to me.
I lick my lips nervously as I take it, and Gabriel’s eyes instantly fall to my mouth. “Is this from here?” I ask, nodding towards the general direction of the estate. “Is it what you make?”
“Well, not me personally.” He laughs, sitting up a little more. “But yes. It’s from our vineyard, if that’s what you’re asking.”
Our vineyard. He doesn’t mean his and mine; he means his family’s—and yet the word shivers over my skin as if he did. I draw in a breath, hastily tipping the jar up, and take a sip.
It’s warm and rich and earthy, with a hint of sweetness, and I make a small noise of pleasure in the back of my throat as I swallow it down without meaning to. When I look over at Gabriel, his gaze is fixed on me, his eyes darkened as he looks at me in a way that I know very well now.
“Gabriel.” I set the jar down, still holding it, almost white-knuckling the glass.
“What?” There’s that note of huskiness in his voice again, and the world feels like it’s narrowing down to us. No one is looking at us, and I have a wild thought that I could lean over and steal a kiss, and no one would be the wiser. Cecelia and Danny are fully occupied with the water and picking flowers off of the bank—they’ve all but forgotten we’re here.
His eyes drop to my mouth again. I love the way he looks at my lips, I think before I can stop myself, my heart a fluttering bird in my throat. He’s looked at them that way since the very first time he slipped and let himself give me a look of desire, like they’re the part of me he wants the most.
I wanted to give him all the pleasure I could with my mouth, after the way I’ve seen him look at it, that last night that we were together. But I couldn’t. It was the one fear I couldn’t get past, the one thing that still panicked me to do. And now?—
