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Authors: Melinda De Ross

A French Kiss in London (19 page)

BOOK: A French Kiss in London
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At one point, she gazed somewhere to her left and slowed down involuntarily. In the middle of that green abyss, the stone giants stood proud, contoured over the background of a sky covered by gray-bluish clouds, the same color of the huge megaliths. Finally, she had reached Stonehenge.

Chapter Twenty-One



She parked the car on the side of the road—no doubt illegally—behind Gerard’s Jeep. Then she climbed out and headed slowly, deferentially to that bizarre place, whose existence or mysterious purpose hadn’t yet been elucidated by the banal humankind.

Contrary to her expectations, the place was deserted, no doubt due to the imminent storm. Probably today, people righteously assumed it was more prudent to stay at home instead of an open space, in the company of the stone monsters, which were sleeping their millennia sleep on this large green field.

But are they really sleeping? And are they monsters?
she wondered, flooded by a peculiar feeling. Ever since she’d had that odd experience in the Hoia-Baciu forest, she tried hard to see a beautiful, benevolent side in anything that otherwise seemed threatening or potentially dangerous.

Detached from reality for a split second, in her mind’s eyes she envisioned a cortege of enigmatic Celtic priestesses—
les halouines
, undulating among the megaliths in a strange ritual dance, under the surreal light of a full moon.

Who could know how many secrets these stone soldiers hid? How many pieces of history they’d witnessed for centuries? And how many of these had been atrocities, human sacrifices with obscure purposes?
she thought gloomily, shaken by a strong chill. She noticed the weak afternoon light appeared to dim with every step she took toward the stone circle. She couldn’t see Gerard anywhere, but she headed determinedly to the motionless giants.

They seemed enormous, these mysterious monuments. Although, technically, the tallest stone wasn’t more than eight meters high, Linda had the impression that their tops—rounded by centuries and weather—entwined with the similarly colored clouds split by lightning. It was an astonishing, breathtaking sight. Perhaps in a different circumstance, the place would have seemed an apocalyptic vision. But now, when she was crossed by a strange reverential respect, the stone circle fascinated her.

She had the inexpressible feeling that inside the circle time itself was an abstract, unstable notion. She had read, of course, the books written by Diana Gabaldon, that talented author, possessor of an extraordinary imagination and a formidable gift of words. Nothing seemed impossible here, not even fantastic travelling through time and space.

A clap of thunder shook the skies and seemed to echo off the stone surfaces. In that instant she saw Gerard. He sat in the middle of the circle, on a stone that presumably had served as an altar for the Druids’ sacrifices. Seeing him there, still, with his back turned to her, she felt her heart pounding stronger than ever.

She ran toward him and he turned around in surprise. For a long moment, he watched her speechless. He jumped down from the stone, then walked to her, stopping a few feet away.

She gazed at him with such deep yearning that she felt herself melting because of her love for this man. His face was covered by stubble and dark circles shadowed his eyes. The passion and love she read in their exotic green urged her to take a step toward him. Then another.

She opened her mouth to say something, but words seemed useless, colorless, expressionless. She raised her left hand, on which she was wearing his ring. Gerard studied it for a moment, but his face remained unchanged. She wasn’t able to decipher anything in his attitude. The thought that it could be too late pierced her soul and her eyes filled with tears, threatening to ruin her carefully applied makeup.

“Please forgive me,” she finally whispered through a dry throat, constricted by barely-contained sobs. “I was a fool. Not only for doubting you, but also because I didn’t appreciate you enough. You were right in everything you said. From the start I tried to avoid you, to keep my distance…even when our relationship began, I looked for something temporary, without obligations. I didn’t want to become attached to you. But you know why?”

He went on watching her, silent and expectant. She went on, while tears were rolling down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops, which had finally began to fall.

“Because, same as you, I knew from the first moment I’ve fallen in love with you. I knew that, if I was going to let you get close to me, I would love you the way I couldn’t imagine it was possible to love a man. And it happened, Gerard. I love you more than my own life. I don’t
a life without you.”

Her voice nearly broke, but she wiped at her tears and went on, “Nothing makes sense if I don’t have you by my side. My work, my independence, the tranquility I thought I wanted so much don’t mean anything. Nothing can bring me joy and fulfillment if I don’t have you in my life, every day, each second…I love you!” she finished in a hoarse whisper, looking up into his eyes.

A strange emotion was imprinted on his face as she lifted a hesitant hand to touch him. Water was now cascading down their faces and bodies. Rain was falling in a strong, drumming rhythm, but neither one of them really took notice.

“Do you…do you still want me to be your wife?” she asked tentatively, watching him intently.

Time stopped and so did her heart, in expectation of his reply. Her teeth sank in her lower lip, where she felt again a vague taste of blood. It didn’t matter. Not even if the world would have ended right then, it made no difference. She was only interested in Gerard’s answer.

He took her hand in his and softly kissed the finger on which his ring was shining. Then he lifted his gaze to her, the old sparkle and charm back in his eyes. Those eyes smiled at her now, in the same manner that had enchanted her ever since she’d seen him for the first time.

“Considering I spent a fortune on this ring, you don’t think I can refuse you now, do you? Especially after such a declaration.”

In spite of his light, amused tone, the way he pulled her in his arms was more serious than ever. She was lost in his embrace, digging her fingers in the muscles of his back, kissing him with all the longing and frantic desire gathered in her since she hadn’t felt his nearness.

Gerard embraced her hard, kissing her madly, running his hands over her body, now wrapped in drenched clothes. He buried his fingers in her wet hair, breathing deeply the scent that had never left his dreams. He whispered words of love in his maternal language—the only one he could remember in these moments. His mind was blinded by a ruthless wave of passion, by the need to possess and claim this woman. His woman.

They made a few steps, chained in a dizzying embrace, until her back encountered one of the huge standing stones surrounding them. He pressed her with his body against the cold, wet stone. His voice sounded rough and urgent to his own ears when he said, “I’ve got to have you, Linda. Now and forever, I want you to be mine!”

Her eyes were closed and her face turned up to the sky, which now flooded the earth. She didn’t need words to express that her feelings matched his. She clumsily pushed away the wet barrier of her clinging skirt and unzipped his jeans. They both gave in to the immense pleasure enveloping them at the steaming contact of bare skin on bare skin. She gasped when she felt him hard, holding her in his strong arms. With a supreme sigh of satisfaction and possession, he slid into her.

She opened her eyes and their gazes connected with a crackling impact. She seemed mesmerized by the green of his eyes. He saw that green reflected in her blue irises. It looked wild, untamed, as intense and penetrating as their lovemaking.

She was lost in the tumult of feelings and sensations he provoked inside her. A moan escaped through her lips, wet from the rain and from his kisses. Her entire body trembled, engrossed in the same enormous pleasure he was feeling. He buried his face in her neck with wild abandon, as he plunged deep and high, thrilling in hearing each of her cries of pleasure. And of supreme surrender.


* * * *


After the rhythm of their breathing slowed down, they remained entwined at the base of the huge megalith, slowly sliding down on the muddy grass. Still shaken by reverberations of the moment they’d shared, they gazed at each other for a long while.

He kissed her lips softly, saying regretfully, “I’m sorry, I was too rough…Your lip is bleeding.”

He let his forehead touch hers as he continued, “I don’t know what happens to me when I’m with you, Linda. I simply lose control. You seem to unravel all that’s primitive and wild inside of me.”

She stroked his soaking-wet hair.

“I feel the same, my love. You don’t have to apologize. I think it’s something marvelous, a feeling that very few couples experience.”

“Do you think it will last until death do us part?”

“Yes,” she replied firmly. “I’m sure of that. Each time when I’m with you, my passion grows. It has never decreased in its intensity. And I know you feel the same. In any case, we have all the time in the world to find out together what we’ll feel for each other when we’ll grow old.”

He lifted his eyes to hers.

“Is it true, baby? Are you really going to be my wife?”

He looked around, for the first time aware of where they were and of what they were doing.

“This place is as strange as that forest, just in a different way. How can I be sure that you’re real? That this wasn’t just a dream, or another…surreal experience, like that one was?” he asked, watching her intently as he caressed her cheek, tracing with his fingers the falling raindrops.

Linda smiled in an enigmatic way he found extremely sexy.

“It’s real, alright, my love. Everything is real—you, me, this place. It’s not a dream. Nor was what we lived together in the Hoia forest.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her answer. In amazement, he watched as she slightly detached herself from his body and took out something from the pocket of her white sweater, now drenched. She lifted her hand, revealing the object she held.

It was a white, ivory-like rock, which perfectly fit in her palm. In the darkness that had fallen over the Stonehenge plateau, the object had a bizarre phosphorescent glow. It had many edges, some of them rounded, some elongated, all reflecting light in a strangely spectacular way.

Linda lifted her gaze to him triumphantly, her eyes brilliant with light reflections.

“Remember this?”





Melinda De Ross (real name Anca-Melinda Coliolu) is an international author of Romanian origin. She writes in two languages, and her books combine the elegance specific to the European style with the modern appeal of the American culture.

She has a Law degree and has been a professional target shooter for over a decade. Her favorite genre to read and write in is Romance, and anytime she prefers to watch a classic movie instead of going to a noisy club.

She loves to hear from her readers, and you can find her at:

BOOK: A French Kiss in London
7.38Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

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