Rare and Precious Things (5 page)

“Why’s that?”
Neil and Elaina asked together.

“You’ll find out,” Ethan and I answered
innocently.

“AND
Gaby, is where? I need to say goodbye.” I’d scanned the room repeatedly for my best friend but she was nowhere that I could see.

“
That’s a really good question,” Ethan answered. “For that matter, where in the hell is Ivan?”

I shrugged. “Looks like our best man and maid of honor have ditched this party for greener pastures.” I giggled. “Maybe they’re off ditching
together
. That would be interesting.”

“I know, right? Gabrielle is Ivan’s flavor for sure.”

“I could swear I was picking up on a vibe between them last night when I was with Ben, and we were stalking them as Simon was snapping candid pictures. Do you think your cousin and my friend just might have a little somethin’-somethin’ going on?”

“If they do, Ivan hasn’t said a word to me about it. But, there was that night at the Mallerton Gala when the alarm went off. I always wondered what happened
with the two of them, because I saw them both within seconds of each other coming from the same direction, when we were all running out. Like maybe they were together…”

“You never told me that, Ethan.”
I shook my head at him in disbelief. “Honestly, you men just don’t tell details very well at all.”

“Well, it wasn’t important at the time, baby. I was a little preoccupied on finding
you
.” He pulled me against him and kissed me firmly on the lips, making me forget we were in a very public room of people watching us, until the tinkling of silverware on crystal rang out to remind us. I felt my face flush, and heard Ethan groan as we pulled apart, muttering something under his breath about “four more fucking hours.”

“
There they are. Mr. and Mrs. Blackstone have arrived finally.” Ethan’s dad, Jonathan, opened his arms and embraced us in a three-way hug. “You did it, my dears. And very well too, I might add.” He kissed me on the cheek and clapped Ethan on the back, meeting him eye to eye, man to man, in a moment of silent communication, which they both understood without a shadow of a doubt.

I could only guess as to what they were both thinking, but I had my theories.
They were acknowledging Ethan’s mother as being here with them, for this special occasion along the road of his life’s journey. Jonathan looked up at the ceiling for just a split second, before nodding to Ethan. I saw Ethan return the gesture to his dad, and then I felt a squeeze to my hand from him.

My hand which had
remained clasped so very tightly in his because he’d never let go of it.

And so we began our marriage,
on a summer’s day in late August, just barely four months after laying our eyes upon one another for the first time. It had all begun across a crowded room one night in the spring—at a gallery tucked away on a London street—when fate had stepped in and forever changed the course of our lives.

30th August

Italian Riv
iera

THE
Italian sun shining down upon the village of Porto Santo Stefano warmed me, and although the view of the rock islands in the small cove was stunning, I didn’t want to open my eyes and see it. I was too warm and sleepy, too perfectly content to even think about anything but letting myself indulge in the peace we had finally found. What a difference a little under a week made.

Ethan and I were in a
very perfect place at the moment…where we didn’t have to panic about what we needed to do, or what bad thing could happen to us, or be shocked about what already
had
happened to us.

Yes, my life couldn’
t compare to any resemblance of what it had been four short months ago, but then again, I was blissfully in love with my new husband and, after the initial shockwave of finding out we were going to be parents wore off, very much in love with that idea, too. I reached for my belly and rubbed over it gently. We had a peach for about two more days. After that? It was onward into lemon territory. My next appointment with Dr. Burnsley wasn’t for another month, and even though the scans might be able to show the sex of the baby that early, I was determined not to find out. I wanted to be surprised, and nobody was changing my mind on the matter. I’d told Ethan he could find out if he wanted to, but he’d better keep the knowledge to himself. He’d just given me a slightly bewildered look that probably meant something like,
I love you, but you are downright scary right now, baby
, and changed the subject. Such a man. But he was
my
man, and that was the important thing. We’d get through this frightening process of becoming parents together.

And so here
I was, sunning on a private Italian beach at an exclusive villa, expecting that my man might bring me a cool drink when he finished his swim.
Not bad, Mrs. Blackstone.
I still hardly believed the name was real. The
Mrs. Blackstone
part was something Ethan took to heart because he sure said it a lot.

I squinted at my wedding ring and spun it around on my finger.
I’m married now. To Ethan. We’re having a baby sometime toward the end of February.
I wondered when, and if, the disbelief would ever wear off.

I turned my head the other way,
readjusted myself on my side, and closed my eyes again, prepared to soak up some more of the glorious Italian sunshine, so abundant here, as opposed to where we lived. Autumn was just around the corner, and then the dreary days of winter in London would be fast on its heels. The time to enjoy the lovely sun was right now, so that’s what I did.

I let
my mind wander, going to a place where everything was happy and easy, and tried to put all of the other things that were not happy and easy, away on their respective shelves, locked up tight in that scary cabinet I hated to open. The one for all the bad stuff to sit and gather some dust for a while—the worries about the regrets of life, the losses and the grief, the desperately poor decisions that had been made, and the consequences that resulted from those choices…

ICY
drops falling onto my shoulder brought me out of my floaty sleep on the beach. Ethan must be back with my drink. I opened an eye and looked up at him blocking the sun from my body, not appreciating the shocking greeting, and taking in his stern expression. God, he was a beautiful man with his hard lines of muscle and golden skin. I could look at him for years and never be content with the looking. And the complete unconcern with what others might think of him made the combination all the more attractive. Ethan was no pretty boy who got satisfaction out of fawning admirers. And they were frickin’ everywhere. And not only women, either. Plenty of men admired my husband, too. He was oblivious to it all.

“What
did you bring me?” I muttered.

He ignored my question
and handed me a bottle of cold water. “Time for more sun block, you’re getting a tad pink.”

“You’re just saying that so you can roam your hands all over me,” I said.

He dropped down next to my towel and raised a brow. “You’re fucking right about that, my beauty.”

I
sipped some water and closed my eyes as he applied sunscreen all over my shoulders and arms, and relished the feel of his hands on my body. His hands. His touch. The feel of Ethan’s hands on me still rendered me weak. No wonder I was unable to resist him when he pursued me in the beginning. It had been like that from the first for me…with Ethan. His searing gaze across the room at me that night in the Andersen Gallery, the coercion on the street to accept a ride home from a virtual stranger, the way he steered me with a firm hand to my back into his Rover, and demanded I eat the food and water he bought for me, that first demanding kiss in the Shire’s Building hallway, how he took those rights to touch me as if they were his due, with no apology for overstepping social boundaries. That was how Ethan has always been with me.

Ethan’s
“claiming” of me had occurred in a way that I understood right from the beginning, even if it seemed ridiculous and unbelievable such a man would be in pursuit of me personally, it still made sense to me when I accepted my fate with Ethan James Blackstone. He had a way of asserting his ownership of me whenever he touched me. Felt like heaven.

“That
feels so good.”

He
grated under his breath. “I agree. Now turn over.”

I rolled for him and brought my arm over my face to shield the sun. He worked in the sunscreen carefully, making sure he covered every area. When he got to my chest, he
dipped his purposeful fingers below the bra of my suit and brushed over my sensitive nipples—back and forth until they budded up high and tight, making me shiver for more.

“Are you taking advantage of me out in public
view now?” I asked.

“Not at all,” he answered, scooting onto my towel to kiss me, “I am taking advantage of you on a very
private
beach, where nobody will bother us.”

He
moved his hands up to take down the straps of my top. Open it fell, and then the glorious rasp of his whiskers brushed the area around my nipple as he teased it. There was a sharp internal zing at first touch now; due to the pregnancy I was sure. My nipples felt different when he started, but after that first jolt faded away, his sucking and nipping felt just as good as it always had. I ran my hands through his hair as he rained kisses over my breasts, loving his attentions.

“Just so you know, Blackstone, there won’
t be any sex happening on this beach right now.”

“Awww, baby, you’ve just gutted me. I’ve been planning to have
a hot beach shag with you for the whole honeymoon.”

“Well, if you have any shot at it you’d best try me once the sun goes down. It’s the middle of the day and we’
re out here where anyone could come by and see us. And I’m not putting it out there for public consumption. Didn’t you ever see those shows about the hidden cameras filming beach sex?”

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. “But there isn’t a
soul around here for miles. Just the sand and the sea…and us two souls.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“You are absolutely crazy, do you know that?” I pulled at his chin and kissed him on the lips.

He laughed at me, watching as I pulled the straps of my top back up and covered myself once more. “You’re absolutely crazy beautiful lying on that towel in your bikini. Pretty sure you ought to be illegal wearing that.”

I smiled at him for the praise,
hoping it was true, and brought my hand to my stomach. “Pretty soon I won’t want to wear a bathing suit.”

He covered my hand with his. “But you are perfectly beautiful like this.
Even peaches thinks so.” He spoke to my stomach, “Peaches? Dad here. Tell Mummy how beautiful she looks in her bikini, would you?”

I laughed at how sweetly adorable he was being, loving him even more than I did before
, if that was even possible.

He pushed an ear up against my stomach and paused as if listening, nodding his head a few times in
emphatic agreement. “Right. Peaches agrees that you look beautiful, and I would say that I have it on very good authority, that to argue with a baby who has yet to be born is completely useless.”

I sighed in happiness. “I love you, crazy husband.”

“I love you, beautiful wife,” he said with a wicked grin, “but I still think we should shag on the beach at least once before we leave this place.”

“Oh my God, you have such a one track mind now.” I shook my head slowly back and forth. “We need to find you a hobby.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Baby, my
hobby
is shagging you, in case you haven’t realized it yet.”

I tickled him in the ribs. “I think you should
take up gardening, or maybe grouse hunting, or something.”

He easily caught my hand and blocked my tickling
strategy. “I’ll play in your garden any time,” he muttered between soft, quick kisses to my lips, “and hunt your grouse, too.”

I snuggled against him and put my face right into the groove of his upper chest, breathing in his scent, close enough to feel the tickle of the hairs sprinkled there. “
You make me so happy, Ethan.”

My words did something for him because I’d never seen him move so fast.

Ethan scooped me up off my towel and said, “Wrap your legs around me.”

I did as he asked and got myself adjusted around his waist, crossing my ankles behind his back.

We kissed the entire time he walked us off the beach, as if our bodies depended on it for sustenance. Ethan’s strength had always left me breathless, and having him carry me in his arms back to the villa, had the same result. Breathless and so turned on. Again.

The next couple of hours were spent tangled in bed, where he made
love to me, slow and unhurried…

“WHAT
do you want to do about dinner? Shall I cook?”

“Nope,” he answered.

“I really don’t mind, Ethan. It’s a lovely set up in the kitchen and everything’s stocked.”

Ethan played with my hair, dragging his fingers through the strands over and over. He liked to do it. It seemed to be a mindless task, something he did when we were awake in bed together, but I sensed it meant more to him.
Soothing. It seemed to sooth him, and was a way to touch me without being sexual. Ethan liked to touch me
all
the time, sexual or not.