My father believed that man was part of the Vatican delegation," said Bash. He looked at Kenna and smiled. "You did it and now you're saying we're rich."
"Well, richer than we were," said Kenna modestly. "And guess what, Catherine let me also keep the ring." She held out her hand, where a sparkling gem curled around one of her slender fingers.
"You've got everything you've wanted," said Bash, smiling. "Land, money, jewellery." He paused, and the added, "Practically everything." Kenna knew what he was about to say. Practically everything except love. She looked up at him.
"I was able to get this back as well." This time she held out her left hand, where his mother's ring occupied her ring finger. "Penelope looked so pathetic back in the kitchen…I couldn't resist," said Kenna smugly.
Bash smiled. "Shall I buy you a new ring now that we can afford it?"
"No you fool! You have it to me." Kenna sighed and looked down at the ring; a small smile pressed to her lips. "I get such a queer feeling whenever I look at it," she said; more to herself than to him.
"What's that?" asked Bash.
"A sort of certainty. One I've never felt before. Someone's going to always be looking out for me now. No matter what."
"I'm not sure you need looking out for," replied Bash.
Kenna stepped forward bravely. She shouldn't, but she wanted this. Not wanting to fight the attraction any longer, she fisted the lapels of his coat, and said flirtatiously, "might as well put him to some kind of use."
Their lips drew closer, just like the moment on the edge of the forest. The almost moment. The almost kiss. Kenna lifted her chin, wanting more. There was an unbearable moment when she thought he wouldn't kiss her. She strained towards him, the pull outweighing her fear of rejection and humiliation, and then like a storm over an ocean, the moment passed and his lips touched hers.
Kenna swayed closer to him, rising to her toes and fisting her hands in his tousled hair. His lips were soft, warm but firm, and he responded in kind, anchoring her body against his. The kiss, which started out, slow and explorative, soon became an inferno of desire. She couldn't get enough close enough to him, and his hands couldn't touch her everywhere at once. Kenna moaned, her hands pushing off his jacket, then his shirt, only slowing down when her fingers caressed the naked contours of his chest; the defined paths of athleticism. She had seen him shirtless a couple of times, but she had never seen him as the man he was. Never realised that she wanted him. She wanted this.
Kenna didn't protest when Bash's lips crashed down on hers again. She ran her cold hands across his body until they were warm. Bash was lost in a world of his own desire. The feeling of her body, flushed against his. Her intoxicating scent. The feel of threading her luscious hair through his fingers. He was going too fast. This was happening to fast. He could hardly think straight.
"Kenna…" he caution, pulling away. Kenna gave him no time to protest. She reached for him again. His lips opened and Kenna deepened the kiss, pulling Bash towards her. They explore each other for a long time. Bash peppered butterfly kisses down her neck and collarbone, steering clear of the laces of her bodice. In kind, Kenna's raked her hands down his spine; feeling the muscles of his shoulders, arms, his chest, tracing the path down lower.
Only when she reached for his belt did Bash grab both her hands, stilling them gently.
"Kenna, it's too soon," he whispered, trying to find his voice, his very breath. He leant his forehead against hers, breathing heavily. "It's too soon."
"No, it's not," said Kenna. "I'm your wife. It's not too soon. In the eyes of God we're too late in consummating this marriage."
"It's not the right time," repeated Bash.
"Will there ever be a right time?" said Kenna, stepping away. Hurt and rejection overwhelmed her.
Bash reached out and cupped her face. She wanted to pull away from his touch in an act of defiance but didn't, because deep down, she wanted his touch. Now that she had a taste, she craved him.
"There will be a right time," he affirmed.
"This is weird," said Kenna. She gestured to the small space between them, where their breaths mingled in the air. "This relationship between you and I is complicated."
He hands curled around her neck, and he brought his lips slowly to her forehead. He pressed a fleeting kiss there. "Yes. It is," he whispered.
