One part relieved, one part petrified, and the rest weak at the knees.
That's how Betty felt at the exact moment that Gio growled the words in her ear. But she didn't hear them, so much as feel them hit her square in her chest, rush down into her stomach and take hold. She took in a staggered breath and her shoulders crept up. Even as she exhaled, they stayed tense. She chewed her lower lip.
He could see the goosebumps on her neck, despite the warmth of the breeze wafting in through the window. She was anxious. He wondered for a moment at her reaction then sighed his understanding. He didn't know much about her romantic history, but someone, sometime, had said or done something to make her feel this way, and he had a fair idea who. The thought turned his feelings from amused arousal to defensive anger. His fist clenched itself, his jaw set in place. As she looked up at him, eyes betraying her uncertainty, he felt part of his frustration melt. He placed his hands on her shoulders and stroked gently up and down.
She spoke first.
"Why did you go to all this trouble, Gio?"
He stared at her blankly for a second or two.
"Despite what you may have heard, B, it's not just women that like romance."
He felt relief rush through him as a smile crept onto her face. She tilted her head to one side.
"Oh really?"
"Really. Half the fun is in the journey, and I wanted to make this journey, with you, one to remember." She noticed the double meaning, and marvelled at its relative lack of smutty connotations.
"Well you made sure of that. Nothing like flying a girl halfway across the world to serenade her." As she teased him the goosebumps began to disappear, her smile became fuller and her shoulders relaxed. She sauntered over to peer out the window to the street below. The moonlight cast long shadows, obscuring her view.
"So where is he?"
"Who?" Gio walked over to join her.
"My handsome serenader."
"You don't need one, you've got me!"
She looked over her shoulder at him and rolled her eyes, "Ah, Gio, I hate to break it to you, but you should really stick to making 'wiches."
He stepped back and looked at her in mock horror, hand placed on his chest.
"It's an industry term." She gave him a patronising nod.
"Betty! The Rossi family comes from a long line of well-respected cantanti italiani…"
Betty drew in her breath sharply, "Oooh, guess you missed out on the genes then!"
"Why you little…"
She leapt out of his reach as he went to tickle her waist, then dodged him again and grabbed the champagne bottle from the bucket where it was perched. She held it up between the two of them, warding him off.
"I think… we should have some more champagne"
He dropped his arms to his sides, then reached for the glasses and held them as she poured. She handed one to him, they clinked, and then took a sip.
"Okay, well if not a song, how about a poem?"
"Oooh fancy…. That's a bit more sophisticated, don't you think?"
"Nah, they're the same thing."
"Poetry is not the same."
"Well, when it comes down to it, is there really any difference between Andrew Marvell and Marvin Gaye?"
"Is there really any difference between who and who?"
"See, now, this is what I mean by a Rossi education… Andrew Marvell, To his coy mistress – have you ever heard that poem?"
"How does it go?"
Gio lowered his voice and struck an actor's pose, one hand on his hip, one raised into the air holding his glass. He paused dramatically, and began.
Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness Lady were no crime.
Gio paused and checked Betty's expression for recognition. Nothing. He dropped the act and continued in his normal voice.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day….?
Still no response. He shook his head in disbelief. He placed both their drinks on the table, took Betty's hand and led her to sit on the bed. Then taking a seat beside her, he recited the poem.
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain.
Gio paused to brush the hair aside from her face.
I would
Love you ten years before the flood,
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
Betty giggled at the line.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires and more slow;
Then cringed at the pun and Gio's smutty expression.
He jumped from the bed and stood in front of her, addressing each of her features as the poem mentioned them.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
She hid her face as she felt it turning crimson
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
He kissed her hand.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.
His pace changed and he moved back onto the bed, nestling in behind her, holding her waist, and speaking softly into her ear.
But at my back I always hear
Times winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Gio lowered his voice to add drama of the next few lines.
Thy beauty shall no more be found;
Nor, in thy marble vault shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserved virginity,
And your quaint honor turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust:
Betty turned around to face him, both now sitting on the bed. He spoke slowly.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none, I think, do there embrace.
Betty was giggling again now, and he lifted her chin to look into her eyes.
Now therefore while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Gio leaned closer,
Now let us sport us while we may,
And now, like amorous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour
Than languish in his slow-chapped power.
He took her hands, one at a time, and held them in his.
Let us roll all our strength and all
Our sweetness up into one ball,
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life:
He kissed her softly.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.
He rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes.
"Where the hell did that come from?"
Gio pulled back and sighed.
"See, you still think I'm a lunk don't you."
Betty ignored his frustration, her mind wandering.
"Marvell… He was pretty persuasive."
"Carpe Diem, B. There are thousands of these poems, just beautiful complex ways that men come up with to seduce the woman they love."
"I guess that is kind of romantic. But why don't men do that now?"
"They do! If anything we're just a bit more subtle! That's what I'm saying… Is there really any difference between that poem and…"
Gio ran over to where the music was coming from and fiddled around with it for a few moments, "… this!"
Betty was hit by a familiar, sultry opening, and then Gio, walking slowly towards her, eyes half closed, clicking his fingers in time with the beat.
"I've been really tryiiiiin baby
Trying to hold back this feeling, for so long"
She had to bite her lip so as not to laugh at his falsetto or his expression.
"And if you feel like I feel, baby,
Come on, oh!
Come on… whoo!"
He pulled her towards him into a slow dance, still imitating every variation in the singer's voice, looking her straight in the eye,
"Let's get it on…
Aaahh baby
Let's get it on
Let's love baby"
Betty still wasn't used to his unashamed advances, or the sound of his voice.
He laughed at her expression and let the singer continue.
Betty nodded, "Marvin Gaye?"
"Yes, indeed. The man's a genius."
An unconvinced Betty screwed up her face at him. This was all too reminiscent of Phil Roth. Gio's expression didn't match her impression, though. He kissed her on the forehead.
"You're a writer, you'll appreciate it. You just have to listen - this is one of the greatest love letters ever written."
He held Betty closer to him and rocked her in time to the music as she let the lyrics wash over her.
The melody was familiar, but the voice of the singer sent shivers down her spine. It reminded her of Gio's scent - strong and sensual like leather, tones of spice and cedar, and an aftertaste of heat.
Their thighs brushed against one another's as they stepped. She rested her cheek against his neck. Gio's hand slid up her back, over the fluid silk of her dress, holding her gently but firmly against him. He began to sing lower than before, quietly, and in tune, as the saxophone rang out…
"There's nothing wrong with me loving you
Giving yourself to me can never be wrong
If your love is true"
She felt his voice sending vibrations through her. He breathed in the smell of her hair, enjoying the warmth of her skin under his hands.
"Now don't you know how sweet and wonderful life can be…
I'm asking you baby to get it on with me."
She remembered his little speech on the night of her birthday, how she'd been too distracted to really listen or appreciate him then. The candles that flickered around them reminded her of fireworks as she felt her body soften into his.
Gio noticed her close her eyes, noticed the slight smile on her face, the way her dress fell away revealingly. He felt his arousal becoming more and more insistent, tugging at him to kiss her, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn't stop. He bit his lip instead, and watched hers, full and slightly parted. His chest tightened.
So close, you can feel her breath on your neck.
He remembered the last time they'd danced.
Suddenly Gio spun her away from him, twirling her skirt, then back into a closer hold, slipping her arms over his shoulders. Her fingers ran through his short hair, her skin brushed over his cool shirt. He slipped his hands around her waist and pressed them into the small of her back.
Betty heard his breath catch.
This time when she caught his gaze, she returned its intensity. She didn't run or hesitate. She closed her eyes and kissed him.