Tina Donahue visits today for a special edition of First Sight Saturday (special because it isn’t Saturday), sharing a first meeting from This Time When We Touch, her contemporary erotic romance with paranormal elements. Tina’s fun fact is she once rewired a house using an Electricity for Dummies book. Wow, that is brave.
Here is the setup of the first meeting scene: Jade and Patrick have been lovers through time. This is their final reincarnation. They haven’t met yet in this life, but destiny has drawn them together once again. Their first meeting takes place in Rio De Janeiro at the beach. Patrick is searching for Jade without knowing it. She, however, realizes he’s looking for her.
Jade regarded the young women who’d spoken to Patrick. The one on the right snatched his tee and pressed it to her nose. Her girlfriends reacted with surprise, dismay, jealousy, then all of them fell back to their towels, laughing loudly.
Their happiness touched Jade. She wanted the same for herself and Patrick. Turning to the sea, she spotted him. His strong, solid strokes took him farther from shore and her.
Jade followed for a few feet then stopped, warning herself against joining Patrick, telling him she was the woman he’d searched for when he’d moved down the beach. Her confession might flood him with too many painful memories, which would make her seduction that much more difficult.
When he saw her again, she needed him to recall a warm summer day in 1510, moments after he’d finished his swim. He’d stood in a shallow part of the stream then, the water reaching just above his knees. Beads of moisture dripped from his eyebrows, stubble, and long dark lashes. Sun drizzled through thick stands of cork and olive trees, dappling his broad shoulders with flecks of golden light. With his head lowered, he’d scooped water then flung it beneath his arms.
Secretly, she’d watched him, as she had for weeks, ever since he’d arrived at her papá’s castle to tutor her younger brothers.
His tall, strong body had intrigued her from the start, along with his educated voice, sculpted features, and bearing with his charges.
Unlike her papá’s other servants, he didn’t defer to her brothers, indulging their every whim. With a firm but fair hand, he’d schooled them in advanced mathematics, Latin, Greek, science, horsemanship, and other physical pursuits. At those times, he’d worn only a linen shirt and hose as he ran and played with them. Grinning broadly, he’d ruffled her brothers’ dark hair when they performed to his satisfaction.
She began to imagine his smile directed at her, his touch belonging to no one else.
At night, she dreamt of him. During the day, she couldn’t think of anything else, consumed with everything he did. Where he slept, what he ate, how he enjoyed his few moments of freedom from her brothers and her papá’s demands.
Clearly, he enjoyed bathing in the stream, rather than the iron tub in the castle. As though he preferred to be outdoors because it allowed him to be alone. Or so he thought.
Water poured through his fingers as he finally sensed her. His hand remained suspended in air as he forgot to bring it to his chest.
Slowly, as though uncertain at what he might see, he’d lifted his face and stared at the hem of her yellow gown. The insistent breeze had pulled the linen away from her legs and around the tree trunk where she’d been hiding.
A warning registered in her mind, telling her to yank the garment back, then turn and run, not stopping until she reached the chapel. There, god would expect her to feel badly for what she’d witnessed.
Carnal desire proved more powerful and compelling than eternal damnation, trapping her where she stood. With her palms on the stout ancient tree, she leaned to the left, knowing he’d see her face, not caring if he did. All she could do was drink in his powerful male form.
Flushed with embarrassment, fevered with need, she stared.
When she finally glanced up, she forgot to breathe. In his dark eyes, she saw desire to match her own. The promise of what life should be, not what her papá had planned for her with the count. A man she could barely stand.
Trembling with excitement, she stepped from behind the trunk and faced him.
Beneath his lust, she saw how bewildered he was. He had no idea who she might be or where she belonged. Although he’d lived at her papá’s castle for weeks, there was no reason for her father to have introduced them. He was a mere tutor, she even less. A female relegated to the shadows, ordered to be quiet and meek until her nuptials.
Undeniable need drew her closer to him, a sense of destiny singing in her blood. Dizzy at the thought of finally brushing her lips over his, she told him her Christian name and then her family’s.
Confusion flooded his face that she was the daughter of his patrón—his benefactor.
Beneath his surprise was a man’s uncivilized passion. She stopped at the edge of the stream, not caring how the mud dirtied her pattens or the hem of her gown. She told him about the abandoned hut on her papá’s estate where they could go to be free of prying eyes.
He stared at her, unease finally draining him of lust. “Go,” he ordered her in Castilian.
Headstrong, she murmured, “No.” She regarded his strong body. She wanted to experience his male aroma and taste his skin.
Heat snaked through her, leaving her deliciously weak.
He frowned at her boldness. “Go. Now,” he ordered her, using the firm voice he had with her brothers when they disobeyed. “Never come here again.”
Jade smiled at the memory, even as grief pressed in on her. She had returned, of course. So had he, irresistibly drawn to each other as they were now.
Reaching the surf, Patrick walked the last few feet to dry sand. Water sparkled on his hair, shoulders, pecs, and abs, his muscles taut, his birthmark obvious. Stopping, he searched the crowd once more.
It’s time, she thought. More than a hundred years in the making.
His attention inched toward her, driven by their shared histories and his enduring love.
Jade’s belly fluttered with expectation at what might happen. Her heart beat painfully as he studied one woman after the other, frustration tightening his features.
Advancing another step, he halted suddenly, his eyes at last reaching hers.
END OF EXCERPT
The idea of lovers through time is so intriguing. I’m sure you want to read more of This Time When We Touch, so click this link to find your copy!
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Tina and I welcome comments or questions. Return to the blog — normally on Saturdays — for a fresh first meeting excerpt from a guest author.