This Same Earth

A slow smile spread across the Frenchman’s face. “What are you proposing?”

“You were brilliant.” He shoved the door closed and reached for her, pulling her to his chest and kissing her passionately before he drew her to the chair in the corner of their bedroom.

“That was kind of fun,” she said when he finally let her up for air. She was perched in his lap, and he was running his hands over her waist and kissing her neck, tasting behind her ear as he pulled the tie from her hair.

“I knew you’d be a natural at this.”

“I kind of am, aren’t I? It’s like a big game board. Or a puzzle. You just have to figure out how everyone is connected.”

“Mmmhmm,” he murmured as his lips wandered over her collarbone.

“And you’re sure Ernesto won’t mind?”

“He’ll consider it an honor to introduce the girl to Hollywood if it means Jean’s cooperation on the French coast, I’m sure of it.”

“And you think Jean will help us look for Lorenzo?”

He nodded and ran his fingers through the hair that fell down her back. She hadn’t cut it since they had been reunited, and he wondered if she knew how much he liked the length. “He’s in shipping, smuggling, all the same circles. They were allies of a sort, for a while. If Lorenzo goes to France, he’ll call Jean.”

“Okay then. Yay me.”

He pulled her closer, and his mouth moved along her neck as his fangs ran out. “Yay you, indeed,” he said as his tongue fluttered against her racing pulse.

“Go ahead,” she whispered and pulled him toward her neck, tilting her head as his fangs pierced the skin.

He moaned and pulled as the sweet blood entered his mouth. Giovanni pulled her hip against him, knowing she could feel his arousal.

“Gio,” she whispered. “Wait-”

“Can you feel how much I want you?”

He licked at her neck, sealing the wounds after a few quick drinks that slaked one hunger while feeding another.

She gasped, “Gio-”

“Let me make love to you, Beatrice. I’ve wanted to for so long. I love you. Let me show you.” One hand pressed at the small of her back, while the other stroked over her breasts. Her arms lifted and she clutched at his shoulders.

“I don’t…” She whimpered in pleasure. “Not here.”

“What?” He blinked and pulled away.

“Not in Gemma and Terry’s house. I just…” He saw the blush flood her face and he only imagined it spreading further down her body. “And…it’s too soon.”

He sat back and let his arms drop to the side.

“Too soon? For what? For this? For us?”

“We’ve only been…together for a few weeks now,” she stammered. “I mean, we’ve never even talked about-”

He pushed her off his lap and stood up to pace the room. “What? What do you want to talk about?”

“Well-” she was still blushing. “-us, I guess.”

“I love you.” He crossed his arms as he leaned against the desk. “I’ve made it quite clear what I want, Beatrice. If anyone should have doubts about our relationship, it’s me.”

She stood as her jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

“You are the one holding back. You’ve held back for months when I know how attracted you are to me. I know how aroused you are right now. Why do you push me away?”

“I told you-”

“You tell me…” He broke off and lowered his voice, which had risen as they argued. “You tell me nothing. I know nothing of your feelings for me because you refuse to tell me anything.”

She stood gaping at him, furious as she struggled for words.

“You-you haven’t even apologized.”

“For what?”

Her face flushed with anger. “If you don’t know, then I’m not going to tell you, you stubborn ass.”

Giovanni walked over and sidled next to her. “You know, you talk a lot about me being an ass: a pretentious ass, a stubborn ass. Seems like you think about my ass a lot, Beatrice.” He yanked her hips to his and pressed their bodies together, pulling her arms around to place them on the ass he’d just mentioned. She trembled, and her breath came in quick pants. He could sense her arousal through her fury.

“What are you-”

“Are you missing something?” He leaned down and purred in her ear. “Something you know I could give you? Don’t be coy, tesoro.”

Giovanni was frustrated and angry, but he still wanted her.

“Stop it,” she hissed. “Not like this. Not-”

“Not good enough for you? I think you might be surprised. I’ve had a few hundred years to practice-”

“Stop it!” She pushed away from him and walked across the room, standing by her side of the bed. “Why are you being like this?”

He forced down the snarl that wanted to erupt. Because I’ve been the equivalent of a monk for almost six years, and you’re driving me crazy. Especially when you’ve been flirting with another vampire for the better part of the night.

He didn’t say it. Giovanni only frowned and shook his head. Beatrice’s face was pale, and she looked angry and on the verge of crying. He took a deep breath and shook his head. “This…this is a mistake. I’ll find another room.”

Giovanni spun on his heel and walked toward the door but stopped when he heard her heart go wild. He turned to see a hollow look on her face, and she started to shake. He suddenly realized the rash words he had uttered.

“No!” He rushed to her side. “I’m not leaving you. Not like that. I would never…I just meant that I am frustrated tonight, and you’re angry-”

“Don’t leave me,” she whispered as the tears sprang to her eyes. “Don’t. I don’t think I could handle it again. You left me and…”

He grabbed her, wrapping her tightly in his arms. “I won’t. I promise.”

“Everyone leaves.”

“What?” He frowned and pulled away so he could see her face. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone. Dad left. Grandpa. My own mom never even wanted me.”

Her small voice tore at his heart, and Giovanni finally realized the enormity of his actions five years before.

“And then I left you.” His chest ached when he pulled her against it, pressing her against his heart as if it could heal the wound.

“I don’t want to be left again.”

“I won’t! I’m sorry I even said it. I’m so sorry…” Beatrice looked up at him with tear-filled eyes, and he brushed at the shining tracks that ran down her cheeks. “I am sorry, Beatrice. I am sorry I was so… arrogant. I’m sorry for hurting you when I left.”

She gripped his waist as he held her, sighing before she pressed her cheek to his chest. Finally, she nodded. “Okay,” she whispered. “Okay.”

He stood, rocking them back and forth before they lay down in bed, still in their dress clothes. He didn’t want to release her, even to take off his shoes. Giovanni finally felt her retreat into sleep an hour before dawn took him.

He woke the next night to the clamor of the old phone in their room. He was still wearing his dress shirt and slacks, though his shoes, coat and tie had been removed sometime during the day. He saw Beatrice’s burgundy dress hanging on the back of the chair, but he did not sense her nearby.

He reached over and picked up the phone.

“Is this the Italian?” Tywyll’s creaky voice greeted him on the other end of the line.