Saturday, July 26, 2014

My Sexy Saturday!

It's My Sexy Saturday! Participating authors post 7 paragraphs, 7 sentences, or 7 words. For me, this time it's 7 paragraphs from Loving Leonardo - The Quest (book 2 in the series) The series began as news taken from 2013's headlines. I combined the talking points of the day, gave them a Victorian spin, and created a polyamorous romance written with an unusual touch of reader-interactive art history.

Setting the Stage~

My trio has Leonardo da Vinci's book and the hunt for clues hidden in artworks is on. Nicolas has had nightmares for the past several nights and is experiencing a growing sense of dread. And for good reason. In this scene, the newlywed adventurers Nicolas and Ellie share a private moment.

My Seven~

When the maid informed us our rooms were ready, we took our wine and glasses and made our way upstairs to our separate rooms to freshen up. Two steaming copper hipbaths on wheels sat near the stove with a towel-draped folding screen between them. Seeing no need for the screen, I hauled it off to the corner. There wasn’t much water in the tubs, but certainly enough with which to wash the travel dust away.

I watched my wife prepare herself, standing before the wall mirror, her tongue poking in concentration as she arranged the pins in her hair and tightened the curls that were want to spill free. Several cinnamon strands wouldn’t cooperate and these she rolled around and around her finger until they were tight curls to be tucked under the rest. I was transfixed by the deliberate feminine processes whose end results were suggestive of the coifs of Degas’ ballerinas. Thomas was correct. Women were a breed apart, but as the French said, Vive La DiffĂ©rence!

She removed her blouse, skirts, and bustle, and for some reason my mind took a different turn. In my mind’s eye I saw her naked and gagged with a burlap sack over her head. For two days now my mind had been intermittently taken by that terrible image, followed by an instantaneous albeit short-lived feeling of dread. I couldn’t say why, but for some reason I felt it now. The sensation that Thomas often referred to as “a goose walking over a grave.” Kneeling, I helped her from her shoes and stockings. Lifting the hem of her camisole, I pressed my forehead to her bare belly and hugged her to me. How I loved this precious nymph.

I’d felt such panic when Conte Bruno abducted her. Perhaps the image was just residual emotion that hadn’t time to drain away. Whatever it was, Ellie seemed unfazed by her experience. She was, without doubt, a most intrepid little thing. She’d taken the kidnapping in stride. I, on the other hand, was privy to information she didn’t have. Namely, the gang rape Bruno had planned for her. A shiver ran up my spine. In my mind, I pictured the face of the man I’d killed, the moment of surprise on his face just before I’d hit him with the statue of Apollo. I didn’t regret the act, but I couldn’t deny that had Bruno had more men there that night, her rescue could have gone terribly wrong.

When I glanced up, she was gazing down upon me. Her soft hands swept back my hair. I’d noticed in the past few weeks that we’d developed an unspoken language between us. This undoubtedly came about from our close contact and soul baring conversation, and the fact we had similar minds. Her next words proved how well she’d come to know me.

“What is it, Nicolas? Something is troubling you, I feel it.”

I lied. “No, my sweet, I’m only thinking of tomorrow.” Her raised eyebrow declared her doubt. Determined not to let her see the dark cloud in my mind, I sought redirection. I kissed her navel then circled it with the tip of my tongue. Meeting her gaze once more, I could see she believed me. I saw something else as well.

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