Elizabeth drifted to a lover’s dream. She floated on a sea of white linen under a canopy of red silk damask. Smiling at Joseph in her sleep, her body seemed alive with the most delicious sensations – a tongue gliding down, down, down…the sea lapping waves in the distance…a mercurial light dancing on the walls… Sometime much later a light tap on sounded on the door. With a rush of breath she snapped awake and sat up suddenly grasping for awareness. Where was she? A warm hand pulled her down again into the snowy envelope of the bed. Sweet endearments were whispered. All was well. If she never awoke from this dream life would be complete. Nothing else was needed, ever. In the late afternoon she woke again, this time to the smell …show more content…
Somehow Marcelino had managed to get their luggage transferred to his home. When they emerged from their mutual toilet, evening clothes were laid out and in turn each was dressed. A note came on a silver tray from a houseman telling them they would attend a musicale that evening and then supper. They’d not seen their host since that morning. Curiosity tugged them both. The very atmosphere of the palazzo and Venice was intoxicating them. There was a sense they’d never leave, like being trapped in a fairy circle, drugged on tranquillity and …show more content…
I have an addiction to the dramatic, the beautiful, to love. I am not a vampire” and he smiled. All laughed, some with visible relief. “My lifestyle is my only way of truly expressing myself. My person, my home, and even my friends. If I had a talent like yours Joseph, I have no doubt my energies would be focused there instead. I cannot write poetry, paint or play anything. The higher arts are a sort of religion for me. So I surround myself as much as possible with it”. “May ask a very personal question sir?” Elizabeth chanced. “Only if we go back to being friends and you call me Marcelino” “Is there no one in your life you particularly care for?” “There was…once. Like all bad tragedies she chose another. I have accepted I may not love again”. “Do you believe you can only truly love once?” she asked. “Is that not what all our great writers say?” “I assure you that is not the case” and she looked at Joseph. “In fact, I believe that the first love, while it cuts the deepest, does not stop a loving heart from seeking its life blood. I think…no I know, that we were all made for love. And our hearts may sleep until we once again are awakened and remember”. A rogue tear ran down her cheek and she rose to get some air on the balcony and quiet her