Anew: The Epilogue Read Free

through me.
    Rising, he tucks himself back into his trousers and buttons
up. Entranced as I am by the sight of him, I can’t bring myself to move until
he holds out a hand.
    Taking it, I manage to stand on legs that are far from
steady. My panties didn’t survive the encounter and a few buttons are missing
at the bottom of my dress. I smooth the skirt down over my legs, noticing
absently that I’m still wearing my heels.
    “I suggest we settle in before we get distracted again,” my
husband says.
    I take his hand again and go with him through the garden,
past the stone fountain and beyond to the high doors of the palazzo that stand
open to admit us.

Chapter Two

     
    I’ m
giggling as Ian sweeps me up into his arms and carries me over the threshold
into a two-story entry hall with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out over
the sweeping expanse of lawns and trees at the front of the palazzo. To either
side are a graciously appointed living area and a formal dining room. There are
more rooms, many more but I’m scarcely aware of them.
    If I had any lingering concerns about my husband’s complete
recovery from the wounds he suffered, they’re quickly banished. With no hint of
effort, he carries me up the massive, curving staircase and down a lushly carpeted
hallway. Setting me down finally, Ian opens double doors set with inlays of
rosewood, mahogany, and walnut in the fan shape of seashells. He stands aside for
me to enter.
    The bedroom is large and gracious. High doors lead out onto
a balcony above the garden. The walls are pleated in golden silk below a
frescoed ceiling. But all I can really see is the bed. It is immense, not so
much a piece of furniture as a structure that dominates its surroundings.
    At each of its four corners, Corinthian columns rise to a
domed and gilded canopy that must be fifteen feet high and looks uncannily like
a crown meant to be set on the head of an empress. The canopy and columns are
lavishly covered in gold ormolu and the deep red of vermilion glaze. Vermilion
velvet and silk hangings shot through with gold fall gracefully from tasseled
valences heavily embroidered in gilt thread. Between those hangings, the flat
surface of the bed with its white damask sheets looks like an altar for
sacrifice to the goddess of love whose temple this must surely be.
    Ian and I have certainly treated it as such. My entire body
flushes as I remember the unbridled lust and passion we have shared in that
bed.
    “Is this all right?” Ian says quietly. “If you’d prefer a
different room--”
    “No, it’s fine.” I hasten to reassure him. Despite how far
we’ve come, I know that he still feels remorse for not treating me with greater
gentleness and restraint when we first met. For my part, I have no such regrets
and can only hope that this time we have alone together will put his to rest
once and for all.
    “Do you want to freshen up?” he asks.
    The golden bedroom suite includes a well-appointed bath
beside the dressing room that, I see with a glance, still contains a full
wardrobe for me but now shares space with Ian’s clothing. We didn’t bother to
bring any luggage with us because everything we could possibly need is already
here. Besides, I don’t intend to spend much time more than partially dressed,
if that.
    “A shower would be nice,” I say. “Provided that I don’t have
to take it alone.”
    He laughs, a carefree sound that I long to hear more often.
“Let’s get you out of that dress.”
    I’m only too happy to comply but long moments later, Ian
groans. “You chose this deliberately, didn’t you?” His hands move along the
curve of my spine as he struggles to undo the remaining buttons. The backs of
his fingers brush my skin, sending irresistible tingles of pleasure through me.
    I shrug with considerably more casualness than I’m feeling. “I
thought you approved of self-restraint.”
    His breath is suddenly warm against the hollow between my
neck and shoulder. I feel