Italian that she recognized as coming from Dante’s pen. He picked

her up and carried her to the large, canopied bed, where he seated her on the edge. Then he knelt on the floor in front of her.

“Where shall I begin?” he asked, his eyes slightly darkened as his hands traveled across her flat stomach and down her thighs. “Tell me.”

Julia inhaled quickly and shook her head.

“Shall I start here?” He leaned forward to trace her lips with the barest touch of his tongue.

“Or here?” He caressed her breasts before letting his mouth take

over, licking and teasing them. She closed her eyes and gasped at

the sensation.

“What about here?” His finger slowly encircled her navel before

he fluttered his mouth across her abdomen.

She moaned and tugged at his hair. “All I want is you.”

“Then have me.”

She kissed him, and he responded by enjoying her mouth slowly,

setting a gentle, languorous pace. When he felt her heartbeat quicken, he took her left foot in his hand and began to remove her shoe.

“Don’t you want me to wear them?” she asked, looking down at

him. “I bought them for tonight.”

“Let’s save them for later, when we christen the wall.” Gabriel’s

voice was a throaty whisper.

He slowly removed her shoes and spent a few moments massag-

ing her feet, paying special attention to her arches. Then he pushed her to the center of the bed and reclined beside her.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

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Sylvain Reynard

He gave her a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ve waited a long time to

hear you say that and to know that you mean it.”

“Of course I mean it. The past is behind us.”

“Then let’s make up for lost time.”

Tenderly, he began using his hands to touch and to tease, his

movements deliberate but passionate. He added his mouth, nipping

and sucking to the tune of her sighs. His heart swelled in gladness at her sounds and the way her body writhed from side to side under his touch.

When her hands moved up and down his back urgently, finally

coming to rest on his backside, he spread himself atop her, bringing their bodies into perfect alignment.

Staring down at her, he whispered, “Behold, thou art fair, my

love; thine eyes are as doves…Thy lips are like a thread of scarlet, and thy mouth is comely.”

Julia reached up to press their lips together before she responded.

“Don’t make me wait.”

“Are you inviting me inside?”

Julia nodded as a flash of heat raced across the surface of her

skin. “My husband.”

“My brown-eyed angel.”

His tongue played with her mouth as their bodies melted into

one another, and soon they were one, their collective sighs muffled by teeth and tongues.

Gabriel’s rhythm was slow at first, like the patient lapping of

waves upon a beach. He wanted this experience to last forever, for in that moment, as he gazed into the wide and loving eyes of his

wife, he realized that their previous experiences, exciting as they were, paled in comparison with the sublimity of their current connection.

She was bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh. She was his soul

mate and his wife, and all he wanted was to bring her joy. He was

consumed by his adoration of her.

Julia traced his brows, wrinkled as they were in concentration,

his eyes now shut tightly.

“I love that look,” she murmured.

“What look?”

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Gabriel’s Rapture

“Your eyes closed, your eyebrows furrowed, your lips pressed

together — you only look like that when you — come.”

He opened his eyes, and she saws sparks in their sapphire depths.

“Oh, really, Mrs. Emerson?”

“I’ve missed that look. It’s sexy.”

“You flatter me.” Gabriel sounded embarrassed.

“I want to have a painting or a photograph of that face.”

He frowned playfully. “A picture like that might be too much.”

Julia laughed. “This is coming from a man who decorated his

bedroom with naked photographs of himself.”

“The only naked photographs in my bedroom will be of you, my

exquisite wife.”

His rhythm increased, catching Julia by surprise.

As she panted out her pleasure, Gabriel buried his face in her

neck. “You’re so enticing. Your hair, your skin.”

“Your love makes me beautiful.”

“Then let me love you forever.”

She arched her back. “Yes, forever. Please.”

Gabriel moved apace, his lips playing across her neck, sucking

and drawing the skin lightly into his mouth.

In response, her hands grasped his hips, pushing and pulling

until she was close, very close.

“Open your eyes,” he gasped, moving more quickly.

Julia gazed up into the dark but tender eyes of her husband, so

alive with passion and true affection.

“I love you,” she said, eyes widening and closing as the sensations overtook her.

This time, Gabriel didn’t close his eyes as his brows furrowed in

concentration.

“I love you,” he breathed with every movement, every glide of skin against naked skin, until they were both sated and still.

409

Chapter 58

Just before sunrise, Julia awoke with a start.

Her handsome husband was by her side, his face boyish in

sleep. It was the face of the young man she met on Grace’s back

porch. She traced his eyebrows and the stubble on his chin, a tre-

mendous feeling of love flowing through her. A tremendous feeling

of contentment and joy.

Not wanting to disturb him, she crept from their bed. She picked

up his discarded shirt from the floor and put it on before tiptoeing out to the balcony.

The faintest hint of light shimmered from the horizon, over the

gently rolling hills of the Umbrian landscape. The air was chilly, far too cold to be outside in anything other than a hot tub, but the

view was unspeakably lovely, and she felt the need to drink in its beauty. Alone.

Growing up, she felt so unworthy of having her deepest desires

satisfied, of being loved absolutely. She didn’t feel that way anymore.

This morning, expressions of gratitude bubbled up from her soul,

wafting Heavenward.

Gabriel stretched out his hand to Julia’s side of the bed, but found only her pillow. It took a moment for him to awake, exhausted as he was with the previous evening and early morning’s activities. They’d made love several times and taken turns worshipping one another’s

bodies with mouths and hands.

He smiled. All her fears and anxieties appeared to have vanished.

Was it solely because they were married now? Or was it because

Gabriel’s Rapture

enough time had passed that she knew beyond doubt that he wouldn’t take advantage of her?

He didn’t know. But he was pleased because she had been pleased.

And when she gave herself to him in a way that she’d never been

able to before, he treasured that gift, knowing that it was given out of love and absolute trust.

Awaking to an empty bed made him nervous, however. So rather

than indulge himself in these silent musings, he quickly went in search of his beloved. It didn’t take long for him to find her.

“Are you all right?” he called, as he walked out onto the balcony.

“I’m wonderful. I’m happy.”

“You’ll catch pneumonia,” he chided, slipping off his robe and

wrapping it around her.

She turned to thank him and noticed that he was naked. “So

will you.”

He grinned, positioning himself in front of her and opening the

robe so it wrapped around both of them. She sighed at the pleasurable feeling of their naked bodies pressed tightly together.

“Was everything to your liking?” Gabriel rubbed her back through

the robe.

“You couldn’t tell?”

“We didn’t have a lot of conversation, if you recall. Perhaps I kept you up too late. I know we were making up but…”

“I’m a little out of practice, but deliciously worn out.” She flushed.

“Last night was even better than our first time together. And certainly, as you put it, more vigorous.”

He chuckled. “I concur.”

“We’ve been through so much. I feel as if our connection is deeper.”

She nuzzled his shoulder with her nose. “And I don’t have to worry about you disappearing.”

“I’m yours,” he whispered. “And I feel the connection too. It’s

what I needed. It’s what you deserve. When I touch you, when I look into your eyes, I see our history and our future.” He paused and lifted her face so he could see her better. “It’s breathtaking.”

Julia kissed him delicately and snuggled closer in his arms.

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Sylvain Reynard

“I spent too long in the shadows.” Gabriel’s voice brimmed with

emotion. “I’m looking forward to being in the light. With you.”

She placed a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to see

her. “We’re in the light now. And I love you.”

“As I love you, Julianne. I’m yours for this life and the next.”

He kissed her lips once more and led her back into the bedroom.

Fin.

412

A C K N O W L E D G M E N T S

I am indebted to the late Dorothy L. Sayers, the late Charles Wil-

liams, Mark Musa, my friend Katherine Picton and The Dante Society of America for their expertise on Dante Alighieri’s The Divine Comedy, which informs my work. In this novel, I’ve used the Dante Society’s conventions of capitalization for places such as Hell and Paradise.

I’ve been inspired by Sandro Botticelli’s artwork and the in-

comparable space that is the Uffizi Gallery in Florence. The cities of Toronto, Florence, and Cambridge lent their ambience, along with

the borough of Selinsgrove.

I’ve found several electronic archives to be quite helpful, especially the Digital Dante Project of Columbia University, Danteworlds by

the University of Texas at Austin, and the World of Dante by the

University of Virginia. I’ve consulted the Internet Archive site for its version of Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s translation of La Vita Nuova along with the original Italian, which is cited in this book. I’ve also cited Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s translation of The Divine Comedy.

The text from Abelard’s letter to Héloise was taken from an anony-

mous translation dated from 1901.

I am grateful to Jennifer, who read the first draft of this story

and offered constructive criticism at every subsequent stage. This book would not exist without her encouragement and friendship.

I am grateful also to Nina for her creative input and wisdom. Kris read and offered insightful suggestions on the manuscript during

the revision process.

Thanks are due to the fine staff of Omnific, especially Elizabeth, Lynette, CJ, Kim, Coreen, Micha and Enn. It has been a pleasure

working with you.

I would also like to thank those who read a previous version of

my story and offered criticisms, suggestions and support, especially the Muses, Tori, Elizabeth de Vos, Elena, Marinella, and Erika.

Finally, I would like to thank my readers and my family. Your

continued support is inestimable.

-SR

Lent 2012

a b o u t t h e a u t h o r

Sylvain Reynard is a Canadian writer with an interest in Renaissance art and culture and an inordinate attachment to the city of Florence.

As an author, Sylvain has been trying to increase awareness about

various charities. You can find out more about these organizations on Twitter: @sylvainreynard

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