With a smile she lowered herself to the ground and he covered her with his body. His blue eyes bore into hers as he placed a hand on either side of her face.
“‘To the Nuptial Bowre I led her blushing like the Morn: all Heav’n,
And happie Constellations on that houre.’”
“Paradise Lost,” she whispered, stroking the stubble on his chin. “But in this place, I can only think of Paradise found.”
“We should have been married here. We should have made love here for the first time.”
She ran her fingers through his hair.
“We’re here now.”
“This is where I discovered true beauty.”
He kissed her again, his hands gently exploring. Julia reciprocated, and their passion kindled and burned.
In the months since their marriage, their desire had not abated, nor had the sweetness of their coupling. All speech melted into motion and touch and the bliss of physical love.
Gabriel knew his wife—he knew her arousal and excitement, her impatience and release. They made love in the night air surrounded by darkness and the greenness of life.
At the edge of the clearing, the old apple trees that had observed their chaste love in the past politely averted their gaze.
When at last they’d caught their breaths, Julia lay weightless, admiring the stars.
“I have something for you.” He felt around for the flashlight and used it to locate his trousers. When he returned to her side he slipped something cool around her neck.
Julia glanced down to see a necklace made of individual rings. Three charms hung from the necklace—a heart, an apple, and a book.
“It’s beautiful.” She breathed, fingering the charms one by one.
“It came from London. The rings and charms are silver, except for the apple, which is made of gold. It represents when we met.”
“And the book?”
“Dante is engraved on the cover.”
She looked at him coyly. “Is there a special occasion I’ve forgotten about?”
“No, I just enjoy giving you things.”
Julia kissed him deeply and he moved her to her back, once again putting the flashlight aside.
When they separated, he placed his palm against her flat stomach and brought his lips to the indentation that lay just beyond his thumb.
“I want to plant my child here.”
As his words echoed in the clearing, Julia froze.
“What?”
“I’d like to have a child with you.”
She caught her breath. “So soon?”
His thumb moved over her skin. “We never know how much time we have.”
Julia thought of Grace, his adoptive mother, and of her biological mother, Sharon. Both died at younger ages, but under very different circumstances.
“Dante lost Beatrice when she was twenty-four,” he continued. “Losing you would be devastating.”
Julia reached up to touch the slight dimple in his chin. “No morbid talk. Not here, after we’ve celebrated life and love.”
Gabriel spread repentant kisses across her abdomen before reclining on his side.
“I’ve almost outlived Beatrice and I’m healthy.” She placed her hand on his chest, over his tattoo, and touched the name on the bleeding heart. “Is your anxiety because of Maia?”
Gabriel’s features tightened. “No.”
“It’s all right if it is.”
“I know she’s happy.”
“I believe that too.” Julia hesitated, as if she were going to say something more.
“What?”
“I was thinking about Sharon.”
“And?”
“She wasn’t a good role model as a mother.”
He leaned forward to brush his lips against hers.
“You’d be an excellent mother. You’re loving, patient, and kind.”
“I wouldn’t know what I was doing.”
“We’d figure it out together. I’m the one who should be worried. My biological parents were the definition of dysfunctional, and I haven’t exactly lived a sterling moral life.”
Julia shook her head. “You’re very good with Tammy’s little boy. Even your brother says so. But it’s too soon for a baby, Gabriel. We’ve only been married six months. And I want to finish my PhD.”
“I agreed to that, if you remember.” He traced the arch of her ribs with a single finger.
“Married life is wonderful, but it’s been an adjustment. For both of us.”
He paused his movements. “Agreed. But we need to talk about the future. It would be best if I began having conversations with my doctor sooner rather than later. It’s been so long since my vasectomy, a reversal might not be possible.”
“There’s more than one way to make a family. We can discuss other medical options. We could adopt a child from the Franciscan orphanage in Florence. When the time is right.” Her expression grew hopeful.
He smoothed a lock of hair away from her face. “We can do all those things. I intend to take you to Umbria after the conference, before we go to the exhibition in Florence. But when we get back from Europe, I’d like to speak to my doctor.”
“Okay.”
He pulled her on top of him. A strange charge seemed to jump between their skin as he gripped her hips.
“When you’re ready, we’ll start trying.”
She grinned.
“We should probably practice a lot in preparation.”