Page 89 of The Muse

The fact that I can sprout wings or dissolve in a swarm of beetles puts a wee bit of a damper on things, but as the day of departure for Amsterdam draws nearer, I breathe easier and turn my thoughts to that elusive thing that demons have no business looking toward—the future.

A future with Cole…

The mere thought feels like a secret, too precious to speak out loud. If there is such a thing as paradise, that is it.

On the eve of our departure, Cole emerges from his bedroom/studio looking extraordinary in a black Henley, jeans, and short, laced boots, also in black, that are somehow both rugged and elegant at the same time.

I’m readingThe Adventures of Pinocchiofor the umpteenth time. Cole catches me tucking it into the couch cushion.

“Again?” he teases and sits beside me. His chestnut hair is damp from a recent shower, and he smells of cologne and soap and warm skin, and I want to press my face into his neck and live there.

“It’s quite bloodier and more gruesome than you likely realize,” I say. “I doubt, for instance, the cartoon version includes the scene where bandits capture Pinocchio and hang him from a tree, waiting for him to suffocate.”

“Disney saved that for the collector DVD,” he says wryly. “Are you packed?”

“Of course.”

“Good, then let’s go.” He stands and pulls me to my feet. “Before the tour starts and makes things even crazier, I want one night that’s just me and you.”

I grip him by the hips and pull him tight to me. “Why go anywhere?” I say against his lips. “Why not stay here and let me have you?”

His already nearly black eyes dilate, and he groans. We kiss, and like most kisses between us, it’s impossibly good with the promise of carnal ecstasy burning beneath.

Cole pulls away. “Later,” he manages. “I want that.Badly. But later.”

“What do you have in mind? A romantic dinner? A horseback ride through Hyde Park?”

Cole chuckles. “Um,no. None of the above. Come on, get your coat.”

“I’m not dressed to go out,” I protest.

“Ambri. You’re head-to-toe in black Armani. You’re more than dressed. In fact, you could stand to wear less than a three-piece suit every day.” He wags his eyebrows. “Make it easier for me later.”

At the entry closet he puts on an elegant, form-fitting coat and hands me mine.

“Ready?”

I nod, watching him. His eyes are brighter than usual, his cheeks flushed.

“Are you feeling well?” I ask, visions of his November illness swooping back in to haunt me. I press my hand to his forehead. “You’re warm. We should stay in—”

He laughs and moves in to kiss me. “I’m fine. Trust me. But let’s hurry.”

“Shall I call the car?”

“Nah, let’s walk for a little bit, then hail a cab.”

“You just said we should hurry. Delirium has already set in…”

He laughs again and tugs my arm. “I want to walk around the city a bit and show off my arm candy first. Okay?”

I consider this. “That makes sense.”

We walk into a lovely London spring evening—cold and threatening rain—both of us with our hands tucked in our pockets but arm in arm. Linked.

We’re a set. Can’t have one without the other.

The thought makes me smile and I feel buoyant. As if I’d float away if it weren’t for Cole.Becauseof Cole.

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