The kisses took them to the bed where, when they finally came up for air, they lay face to face, thigh to thigh, gazing into each other’s eyes.
‘I love your mouth,’ she husked, exploring the individual dust-engrained lines on his face slowly, as if memorising them.
‘Did Carl catch his flight?’
Dante nodded, unable to take his eyes off her face.
‘And you two, are you okay?’
She was relieved when he nodded again.
‘I’m glad.’
‘So am I.’
‘So what time is your parents’ flight back?’
‘They’ve delayed until tomorrow.’ A sardonic smile twisted his lips. ‘So the dust will literally have settled.’ He slid a hand down her thigh and pulled it up and across his waist, dragging her in closer.
‘This would be much better with no clothes.’
‘It will be, but there is no hurry.’
She sighed and gave a sinuous wriggle closer, loving the hard lines of his body.
‘I have a message for you from them.’
‘Oh, don’t spoil it!’
‘They have asked me to inform you that it makes them very happy that you’ve returned. They are talking about a renewal of our vows.’
She felt her jaw drop. ‘Is that some sort of joke?’
‘No joke, they tell me you are trending…’
Her eyes flew wide. ‘What?’
‘A photo of you has gone viral.’
He rolled far enough away to pull his phone from his pocket and scrolled to the photo that showed a golden-haired, jeans-clad Beatrice against a background of billowing dust, surrounded by a group of children who were all caught in the moment, looking up at her, while two of the smallest ones were thrown one over each shoulder. Dust particles caught by a ray of light made it seem as though she were surrounded by a shimmering golden glow.
After a slight hesitation she rolled forward, anchoring her hair from her face with her forearm. It afforded him a view of her face while she scanned the image that was the sort guaranteed to make a photographer’s career.
It was no surprise to him that online fame did not seem to thrill her.
‘Oh, God!’
‘You don’t look thrilled at the fame—hashtag heroineprincess.’
It took her a moment to recognise the moment someone had captured in an idealised version. The reality had involved dust and noise and a gut-wrenching sense of urgency as, afraid she would lose one of her charges, she’d tried to get them out of the exclusion zone around the unstable wall.
‘It’s embarrassing,’ she countered, ‘and I was not being brave. I was at my wits’ end. It was like herding cats.’
‘My parents are very impressed. They believe that you are an asset to the family, and, yes, that is a direct quote.’
Suddenly she was so angry she could barely breathe, let alone speak. When she finally made her vocal cords work, what her voice lacked in force it made up for in throbbing, furious sincerity. ‘It really has nothing to do with them!’
‘This is something I pointed out.’