Chapter 25Marco
Chapter 25
Marco
Who knew I would be dancing The Macarena with a beautiful princess in a small town in the mountains, laughing and enjoying every moment? I sure didn’t, and it only goes to show how much my life has changed in the last few weeks since I met this gorgeous, vivacious woman at my side.
I watch in admiration as Sofia moves to the music, her face bright, her eyes sparkling with joy. This is not the woman I met at the ball, the tightly controlled Princess Sofia, dressed in a formal gown, making polite conversation with all her potential suitors.
No, this is a very different Sofia. She’s free and she’s joyful and she’s dancing in a way I never would have pictured that princess dancing. “Happy abandonment” is the expression that comes to mind, and it makes her even more beautiful, even more attractive to me.
The song finishes and a loud cheer goes up from the crowd.
“That was so much fun,” Sofia says, her beaming smile reaching from ear to ear as she catches her breath.
“You knew all the moves. I would never have picked you as a Macarena fan.”
“What can I say? I’m a woman of many layers,” she replies lightly.
“That you certainly are.”
The atmosphere shifts around us and I’m sure she knows I’m speaking about more than just her surprising dance moves. She is a woman of many layers, and I’m revelling in discovering each and every one of them.
“Shall we get some water? I’m absolutely parched from all the dancing.”
“Sure.”
We walk hand in hand, as we’ve been doing all night, over to a refreshments stall, where I purchase us a bottle of water each.
There’s something in the air on this magical night, far from our lives back in Villadorata, that makes me feel anything is possible. It’s like we’re in a bubble together, just her and me, and I don’t want anything to break it.
“Tell me something,” she says as we lean against the cool stone wall of one of the buildings, baskets of hanging flowers above our heads. “That community garden I visited you at in Tideswell. ”
“What about it?”
She looks me in the eye. “You’re the one who donated the funds for it.”
It’s a statement more than a question, and although I masked the fact it was me, telling her instead that it was Enzo who donated the money at the time, I find I don’t want to be anything but honest with her now. Back then I admit I was suspicious of her, and I wanted her to think the best of the man she had chosen as her potential husband.
Now, I want that man to be me.
The thought steals the air from my lungs.
“Why did you say it was Enzo when it was you?”
“I guess I wanted you to think good thoughts about him.” I pause before I add, “At the time.”
“And now?” she asks, her eyes intense, and as I drop my gaze to her plump, luscious lips I notice they’re parted, her cheeks rosy from the dance, and I find the strength of the magnetic pull I have for this beautiful, sexy woman with hidden depths has become almost impossible to resist.
I lift my eyes to hers, concentrating on her deep pools of mahogany. “And now I want you to think good thoughts about me.”
“You do?” she asks.
“I do.” With my pulse thudding, I push all the reasons we shouldn’t be together away, all the reasons this thing between us is impossible. None of that matters when the chemistry between us is off the charts, my feelings for this woman deepening day by day.
I close the short distance between us, now so close to one another, we’re almost touching. “Sofia, I—” I begin, only to be interrupted by a loud voice over a microphone.
Talk about terrible timing.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” says a middle-aged man at the microphone. He’s wearing fancy blue velvet robes with fluffy white fur trim, with a shiny gold chain with a medallion hanging around his neck. To top it off, he’s wearing a matching blue velvet hat with a gold badge on the front.
“That must be the mayor,” Sofia comments.
“What gave it away?” I tease.
She giggles and nudges me with her shoulder. The brief contact sends a shiver through me.
I am a dead man.
“I hope you’ve enjoyed tonight’s festivities! As usual, the village of Monteluce has come together to put on the most wonderful night of the year, both for the villagers and for our guests.”
Applause ripples through the crowd.
“And now, for the final act of the night, the traditional releasing of the lanterns is about to take place, marking the end of this most wonderful festival. Please collect your lanterns and join me by the town wall to bid goodnight to one and all.”
As people move to collect their lanterns, I say, “I would love it if you would release a lantern with me, Principessa . Well, me and several hundred other people.”
“I think I can manage that.”
We collect our lanterns and follow the crowd to the edge of the town. If it wasn’t dark, I bet we could see for miles and miles from our perch at the top of the world in this romantic village.
The festival lights dim, and an excited hush falls over the crowd. We each hold a lantern, the paper delicate in our hands. Someone passes us a lit candle, which we use to light our own candles inside the lanterns. People begin to release their lanterns into the dark night air, people ooh -ing and ahh -ing as they float silently away, up, up into the night sky .
Sofia and I share a smile as we release our lanterns, and they float upward, joining hundreds of others as they float away.
The scene is breathtaking, a sea of glowing orbs drifting toward the stars. Sofia and I watch in silence, her shoulder pressed up against my arm in the crowded space. We’re both wrapped up in the magic of the moment, the lanterns twinkling like stars, and I’m overcome with a deep sense of peace and possibility.
Being here with Sofia, sharing this beautiful experience, makes everything feel right. Like we’re meant to be.
As the lanterns disappear from sight, people begin to disperse until we are some of only a handful of people left. I turn to look at Sofia, and she tilts her face up to mine. Her smile could light up any room, her eyes sparkling with warmth and kindness. Her hair falls gracefully around her shoulders, framing her pretty face, and I feel a flutter in my chest that grows and grows.
We have a connection that’s proving impossible to ignore. Even with the most steely resolve, I’m weakened by the force of my feelings for this woman at my side.
As close to one another as we are, all I need to do is reach out and pull her gently to me to feel her soft curves pressed against me, to breathe in her intoxicating scent, to finally, finally feel her soft lips against mine.
It would be so easy, but I’m wrestling with my feelings. This woman, this beautiful creature at my side, has bewitched me, and I don’t have the strength to fight it anymore. Not in this achingly romantic setting.
I’m powerless to resist her any longer.
With my heart banging like a malfunctioning washing machine, our gazes lock. My breath is tattered as I reach out to touch the soft skin of her cheek, cupping her face with my hands .
She swallows, her lips parting, her gaze intensifying, and I know, in this moment at least, she feels this strong pull to me, too.
“I know I promised I would never touch you again after that time in the car,” I begin falteringly. “But Sofia. Principessa . I need you to know how very difficult it has been for me to keep my word.”
“It has?” she asks, her voice trembling.
I inch closer to her, my heart beating out of my chest. By now we’re close enough that I can breathe in her scent, the distance between our lips a mere handful of inches.
All the reasons not to do what my heart demands evaporate into the still night air as I allow the tips of my fingers to trail a track across the skin of her neck.
She lets out a small shudder, telling me she wants me as much as I want her.
Emboldened, I lean closer and murmur softly in her ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you, day and night. You fill my head, my heart, my soul, and I want nothing more than to claim you as my own, my beautiful, wonderful Sofia.”
She lifts her gaze to mine, her full, pillowy lips parting farther as she lets out a ragged breath, and it’s all the invitation I need to show this incredible woman how much she’s come to mean to me in the short time she’s been in my life.
I close what’s left of the distance between us, her womanly body pressed against mine, and I slide a hand around her waist. I take a beat, allowing myself to be fully present in this moment, a moment I’ve fantasized about since I first met her at the ball. The moment I know will be indelibly etched into my brain for eternity.
“Marco,” she breathes, and my response is to press my lips softly against hers, the feel of her touch sending forks of electricity through me. I close my eyes to drink in every last drop of this moment with her. The softness of her lips. The feel of her body against mine. Her scent. The taste of her.
She finds the base of my neck and tangles her fingers in my hair, her need for me growing, just as mine does for her. Not caring who sees us, I lift her up off her feet and press her against the town wall, taking full advantage of the blanket of darkness around us as we deepen our kiss.
With my mouth I claim her as mine and mine alone.
All the pent-up passion I have held for this woman is finally expressed in the sweetest, most wonderful way, and in a flash, we become a tangle of hands and lips and the very deepest pull of attraction for one another, almost spiraling out of control.
“You have no idea how long I have wanted to kiss you, Principessa ,” I murmur against her lips, our breath mingling.
“Nor I you,” she whispers back.
I trail kisses along her jawline and down her neck before I return to her lips, kissing her once more with every last drop of passion I hold for her, finally able to show her what she means to me, and what I hope with all my heart we can become.