14 Welcome to my paradise
14
Welcome to my paradise
Isabella
A hundred per cent of women who read period novels dream of finding a noble gentleman to call their own. Well, I’ve found mine, and I have to say: the punishment is equal to the reward.
I’m going to change my mind about nineteenth-century good guys resisting women for reasons of honour. To hell with honour, decorum, the future. To hell with everything. In my next storyline, I’ll have the two of them kissing on page five, and there’s no three-act structure that can stop me from putting that climax in five per cent of the way through the book.
OK, maybe I’m exaggerating. Writing muses, forgive me, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not going to murder common sense, but I feel like it. If I can’t have the hot duke because he cares about honour, I refuse to allow another woman, even a fictional one, to almost die of lust like I’m dying right now.
And how unlucky I am. I’ve finally found a man who cares about me, who treats me like a lady and with affection. A man who confesses, in all honesty , that he has feelings for me, without any fear. But also, a man who can’t be mine, and never will be, because two hundred years separate us, and that’s the way it is.
“Bella? Is everything alright?” The voice of Benjamin, the handsome and honourable duke, catches my attention.
“Hello. Yes, it’s fine. I didn’t hear you come in.”
I run my eyes over him. He has just returned from his run sweaty and panting. That’s great. That’s all I need. This divine vision.
“How was the run?” I ask.
“Good. Exercising has helped me not to go mad.” The tone of his voice is serious, enough to make me worry.
“What’s wrong?”
Benjamin shrugs, sitting down on the sofa and stroking Duke’s ear as he approaches.
“I’ve been thinking about all the films we’ve watched, and I can’t see a solution. Nothing makes sense; I can’t fit the pieces together.”
I confess that this has also been worrying me. Since we got back from Bath, we’ve watched every possible film about time travel. We’ve even watched the entire Marvel franchise, all twenty-two films up to Avengers: Endgame . My idea, to save time, was to only watch the most important ones, but Ben liked them so much that we ended up not skipping any.
I don’t know what else to do. None of the cases are like his, despite having elements in common. Not even the possible sorceress from the past who may or may not have given the stone to his grandfather.
“I know what you mean. I don’t know where else to turn either.”
Benjamin nods, running his hand through his messy hair. “We’ve tried all the films and series, haven’t we?”
“From that list I got off the internet, yes.”
He widens his eyes suddenly. “What about books? We haven’t read any books about it.”
I open my mouth in amazement. How could I forget books, dear Lord? “Wow, what a bummer. I’m a disgrace to the literary world!”
Benjamin laughs, rolling his eyes. “Don’t overdo it, Bella. But we can try that, can’t we?”
“Yes, of course. Let me have a look.” I stretch my body and pick up the laptop I’d left under the sofa. I open the screen and the Google tab, searching for books on the subject.
“There’s Outlander , which we’ve already watched… The Time Traveler’s Wife …”
Benjamin’s eyes are fixed on me. I ignore the tingling on my skin from this penetrating gaze and try to concentrate on the list in front of me. Unfortunately, most of the books have already been made into films, which means they’re of no use to us.
“Look,” I say a while later, “I think we can try these three. The rest didn’t look promising.”
Benjamin analyses the screen. “Very well. I’ll read one, you read the other, and we can split the reading of the third.”
“Alright, then. I’ll look it up on Kindle.”
Benjamin grimaces. “Is there no possibility of me reading on paper? Don’t get me wrong, I understand the ease and technology of it all, but I’m, as you say, a vintage guy.”
Benjamin’s wicked smile makes my heart race and also makes me want to slap him in the face, begging him not to be so charming, since he refuses to have sex with me.
“Sure, let me see.” Opening another tab on my computer, I search for books on Amazon.
“Two of them deliver tomorrow, so that’s good. But one is out of stock, and it’s the one I think could help us the most.” I stop to think. “Let me see if Waterstones has anything.”
“What’s that?”
“A big bookshop here. There’s a huge shop in Piccadilly. I always go there when I want to calm down.”
Luckily, I manage to find the book in stock. “They have it. Shall we go there?” I look at the clock. “It’s 2pm, I reckon we’ll make it by 2.40pm at the latest.”
Benjamin agrees, then looks down at himself. “Is there enough time for me to have a wash? Ten minutes at most, just because I sweated during the run.”
Ah, damn. Here I am imagining this sweaty man naked in the shower. “Yes, there is. There’s no need to rush; we have time.”
Benjamin nods, grabs a change of clothes, and walks towards the bathroom. When I hear the door lock, I see Duke staring at me, his hairy little neck tilted to the right.
“Yes, Your Grace. Look at my situation. Am I being too obvious?”
Duke doesn’t answer me. But I have the impression that he would say yes. Yes, I am.
* * *
“Welcome to my paradise,” I say to Benjamin as soon as we walk into the bookshop.
The shelves, full of books with colourful, neat spines, seem to smile at me. And I smile back, like the polite woman I am.
“You really weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a big shop,” Benjamin comments.
“Over eight miles of bookshelves at your disposal. It’s just marvellous! Smell it.” I sniff the air. “Delicious.” I smile, guiding Ben to the lift.
Benjamin also sniffs. Even when sniffing, he manages to be cute, playing along with my nonsense.
“The science fiction section is on the first floor,” I explain. “Let’s go straight there, because if I stop at the romance section… that’s it, we’ll lose the day.”
Benjamin agrees with a chuckle, and we take the lift up to the first floor.
“We could have taken the stairs. I didn’t think,” I say, stepping out of the lift as soon as the door opens. “It would have been good for my glutes.”
Seconds later, I look back and catch him in the act, his head tilted slightly. “Benjamin, were you staring at my arse?”
He sniffs. “No, of course not.”
I squeeze my eyes shut, moving closer. He’s lying to me. I know what I’ve just seen. “Are you sure, Your Honourable Grace? Honourable men don’t lie .”
Benjamin almost laughs but keeps his serious expression. “Of course, I wasn’t. Oh, come on.”
I laugh softly as I turn my gaze away and walk over to the section on the right-hand side. I only realise he’s approaching because of the whisper in my ear, which sends a shiver down my spine.
“But don’t worry, there’s nothing wrong with your arse. Nothing at all .”
His comment makes me blush from head to toe. Bastard.
“If you’re not going to lose your honour, don’t provoke me, milord. I can use those glutes against Your Grace.”
“Pardon me.” It’s Benjamin who’s blushing now. “I couldn’t resist.”
Oh yes. He can’t resist that.
Taking a deep breath and returning to our focus, I locate the science fiction section. The book we’re looking for is easy to find, so I take it down and hand it to Benjamin, who begins to leaf through it carefully. I take advantage of the fact that I’m here and have a look at the other titles. Maybe something interesting will turn up and we can take advantage of it.
“It’s fascinating how a single idea can turn into so many different things,” he says.
I concur, still going through the titles. “Yes, I think so too. Nowadays, I don’t think there’s anything that hasn’t already been done. The secret is execution. Transforming ideas, to have new insights, incorporating other elements into things that already exist. For creativity, the sky’s the limit.”
He remains silent for a moment. “Have you thought about writing about this trope?”
“Travelling back in time? You know, I haven’t. I tried it once, but I ended up going to the nineteenth century and staying there.” I realise what I’m talking about only after I’ve said it. “Sorry, bad joke.”
Benjamin doesn’t seem to mind. “Don’t worry, there’s a good story in there if you want to get inspired.”
“Where?”
“Our story…” he says. “A guy from the nineteenth century who gets lost in the future. I’m sure there’s already something like that, but you have good elements to apply to the plot. Experience, which is very important.”
“But I write romance novels.”
“Include romance in it.”
I gulp at the suggestion. Thinking about our history, as Ben said, seems like a good idea for a book. But if it has romance, and for me romance is essential, it has to have a happy ending.
My story with Ben is far from having a happy ending.
“It’s just a suggestion.” I think Benjamin has noticed my disappointed expression. “I thought it might help with your writer’s block.”
I smile, pushing away the melancholy. “Don’t worry, I’d love to write a character inspired by you. You’d be the best in the Bellaverse.”
Benjamin smiles, closing the book he’s holding. “I’d like to read one of your novels.”
I’m surprised by the statement. “I’d be honoured, but I don’t have any stories translated into English.”
Benjamin lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why not?”
I shrug. Laura always asks me the same question.
“I don’t know, I haven’t thought about it. My readers are in Brazil.”
“But you could win more readers by translating. I’d think about it. I could proofread them myself, if you want. I used to proofread for the newspaper.”
“Really? I thought you were the boss.”
“Yes, I was, but Howard, my secretary, was the one who showed up when necessary. In the beginning, when I opened the office, I was just thinking of having an impartial news channel. Well, as far as possible, but bold enough to expose important events, which other newspapers might not do. I ended up enjoying the work, especially the editing.”
“You’d be quite an editor if you were alive today.”
Ben’s smile dies a little. The same thing happens to me.
“Look, if you want, there are similar books here that I can refer you to. To the ones I write, I mean.” I try to change the subject.
“I want to – I am very curious about these indecorous novels.”
Laughing, I guide him to the left-hand side. I know the way by heart; after all, the romance section is my safe place.
“This is the place.” I indicate the shelves with my hands. “Everything is in alphabetical order. I don’t know all the authors but many of them. What do you have in mind?”
“Whichever one you recommend. I just want to understand what you write.”
“Right…”
It will have to be a hot period romance but with a dose of cuteness.
“This one.” I pull the copy off the shelf. “I think we have the one.”
Benjamin analyses the cover of a strong shirtless man with long flowing hair.
“Is this gentleman supposed to be from the Regency period?”
I nod, with a naughty smile. “Delicious, right?”
He frowns, disagreeing. “We had more manners than that.”
“And, thank heavens, we’ve made our fanfic and improved those manners.”
“ Kissing a Duke ,” Benjamin mutters, reading the title. “Are you sure this is the book?”
“Yes, this is one of the most famous books in the Regency romance genre.”
Benjamin analyses the book once more, sighing as he concedes, “Very well, I’ll follow your recommendation.”
“I hope you like it, but don’t read it if you don’t. If that’s the case, just close the book immediately. I’m totally averse to reading without pleasure. Stories should touch our souls.”
“Is that what you believe?” Benjamin starts walking beside me as we head towards the cashier.
“Yes, I’ve always believed that. And the same applies to writing – don’t get me wrong, of course, a financial return is expected when we release a book – there’s an investment there, of time, study… just like any other job…”
“Of course, it’s your profession and should be treated as such.”
“Exactly. But…” I hand the two books to the cashier. I notice that she runs her eyes over Benjamin, with a hidden smile on her lips. My stomach does a somersault. I don’t like what I see, not at all.
“Have a nice day,” she says, looking at him.
“Thank you.”
I turn round quickly, and Benjamin follows me. I wonder if he realised how she looked at him.
“You were saying…” He speaks to me, and I have to struggle to remember.
“I was saying that… ah, that books are art, and art is something special. You have to… feel it, in your soul, or none of it makes sense.”
Benjamin smiles, and I wonder if he thinks I’m too silly. The next moment, I have my answer.
“Just when I think you can’t surprise me any more, you come along and prove me wrong. Never change, Bella.” His dark eyes meet mine. “The world, no matter the era, would be a much better place if it had more people like you.”
Completely touched, I hope Ben knows that I feel the same way about him.