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into a thousand irrelevant pieces. His hands shifted from her face down along her neck to settle in the nook by her collarbone. His fingertips tickled the tips of her shoulders. His kiss deepened, and she had to step closer to him and let her head tilt backward for him to explore her mouth. Rupert teased her tongue with his, challenging her to let go, to open herself to him.
    All hell broke loose when her towel slid to the floor and the air brushed over her naked flesh. Her nipples hardened. She wrapped her arms around Rupert’s neck while his hand took hold of her ass and pulled it so her hips crashed against him. His other hand twisted her damp hair into a ponytail and pulled her deeper into his kiss.
    Madison almost lost her balance when Rupert knelt at her feet. On his way down, he traced a path with his lips from between her breasts to her navel. He circled her waist, and the heat of his gaze burnt at her naked body.
    “I dream of you, Maddie … I dream of being inside you.”
    They made it to her tiny bed, but only later.
    Florence ~ August 1508
    The delicious heat has spread throughout my body. The flames of hell might burn my soul one day, but I do not care about punishment when I lie beside my lover. Complete and satiated.
    My hair falls in waves around my face, and I have to push away the curls to prevent them from tangling with the tip of my quill while I write. My lover tucks them behind my ear, his fingers seizing the opportunity to play with the straps of the loose gown I have covered myself with after our lovemaking.
    “How much longer can you stay with me?” he says.
    I lift my pencil from the parchment and steal a glance at his powerful torso. He has not bothered to dress, and the white sheet covers him from the waist down. His hose must be discarded somewhere on the floor next to my patterned gown with the tied-on green sleeves.
    “My maid will knock at the door when the time comes. I gave her clear instructions to do so.”
    A sensual laugh complements the kiss he lays at the nape of my neck. “If I had not had proof of your innocence, I would have assumed your wickedness had been sharpened by much experience.”
    He is speaking the truth. Since I chose to give myself to him, I have revealed a side of my character I did know existed, but did not dare uncover.
    Supporting myself with my elbow, I shift toward him to prolong the kiss he initiated. “You are my first and only one.” I brush his lips with mine to tease him into the web of my seduction. “My first and last one.”
    He moves away from me, throws his legs over the side of the bed, and I am tipped off balance. The sudden void leaves me dizzy. With a few steps, he swaggers naked to the table where a carafe of Venetian wine stands. He fills two cups and brings them back to us. I take one of them and savor its spicy contents.
    I try and recapture his attention. “I have a few more verses to write and then you can start composing the melody.”
    But his thoughts have departed from our room and flown away, away to his home, away to England. I resent this part of him, over which I have no control and almost no knowledge.
    “I can improvise,” he tells me. “If we indulge ourselves in each other’s bodies one more time, inspiration will strike.”
    He catches my waist and rolls above me, his full weight stilling me. He captures my arms and lifts them above my head. I am at his mercy, and I relish his domination. His knee parts my legs, and I let him ravish me.
    A few moments later, my heart struggles to regain its regular pace. He lies by my side, the sheets of paper with lyrics creased beneath him. He extracts them and starts reading the words I had scribbled down before our second lovemaking. With no effort at all, he sits up and leaves the bed again, naked. I come to hate the dreadful feeling he elicits when he leaves my immediate proximity.
    After emptying what is left of his wine, he heads toward the window. The thick drapes are half