Free Wandering Soul by Cassandra Chandler

Seven
    If Elsa had not explained herself, Dante would have thought he misheard. As it was, the haste with which she spoke, coupled with the way she clung to him, conveyed her desire more clearly than any words. She wanted him near her, though he still had not determined why.
    â€œThere’s a lounge chair outside.” She gestured to the thick foliage beyond the windows. “Maybe we could sit in the garden for a bit?”
    An urge that he could not suppress overcame him, and he reached forward, scooping her up into his arms again. She gasped, but smiled as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He was growing accustomed to having her next to him, feeling her embrace. He found himself smiling back at her.
    The fact that she seemed not only to not mind his proximity, but perhaps even enjoy it was one of the most novel things of all about this new world. Dante doubted anything in his previous life could have been as satisfying as Elsa’s soft exhalation as she leaned against his chest. Her tremors subsided as he held her.
    Another double set of doors led to the garden, much like the ones between the house and solarium. A key rested in the lock of the right-hand door. Elsa reached down to turn it, then pressed the handle. The door swung open onto a stone patio surrounded by lush green plants adorned with brightly colored flowers.
    The studio seemed like Heaven, with resources to dabble in so many of the creative arts. But if the studio was paradise, then surely this was the Garden of Eden. Dante stepped out into the bright afternoon light.
    Warm gray bricks spread out in a path before him that opened up into a circle like a stone sun. He could see several paths trailing out from that center, with vivid greens and beautiful flowers embracing them. Everywhere he turned, Dante saw color. Beautiful, glorious color. All spectacularly illuminated by the sun.
    He lifted his face to the cerulean sky, watching clouds as thick as cotton drift lazily across the horizon. Emerald grass stretched out beyond the garden, ending in copses of bizarrely shaped trees.
    Even while traveling with the circus with his mother, Dante had never left the cities where they performed. He’d never been to the country, had never even dared to venture to a park. But here, there was quite literally an entirely new vista.
    â€œIt’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Elsa said, drawing his attention back to her.
    He wondered how even that magnificent view could have distracted him from the beautiful woman in his arms. The light caught every strand of her hair, making it shine more brightly than any gold he had ever seen. Her eyes were honey-brown in the sun. The color had returned to her lips, a rich heliotrope.
    Once more, he had the urge to gently trace his thumb across her lips. They parted as he stared at her, and the desire flared, quickly spreading to other parts of his body. His hands were busy holding Elsa. Perhaps he could brush her lips with his own…
    She cleared her throat and said, “The chairs are right over there.”
    â€œOf course.” Dante’s voice came out a bit breathless.
    He walked into the sunburst pattern of stone. Just across from the patio doors, several chairs flanked a table with an enormous umbrella sprouting from its center. He gently placed her in the lounge chair and then set about adjusting the umbrella to make sure that she was protected from the afternoon sun. When he was satisfied, he sat in a chair opposite her, hoping to marshal his thoughts with the help of some distance.
    â€œIf you sit in the sun, you’ll burn.” She reached to the nearest chair and weakly pulled it toward her in the shade. “Come sit next to me.”
    His theory that she enjoyed being close to him was gaining strength by the moment. Dante sought to test it further, watching her expression as he pushed the chair nearer, turning it so they would face each other. As he sat, her smile deepened, her eyes