Fanning The Flames

Monacco Desert Cottage - Vista Hills



Isabella stood in front of the fireplace in her room absently gazing at the logs dying a slow death as the flames turned them into ash. She wondered if they understood what was happening to them, if they felt any pain, if they wanted to escape their doom. She felt like one of those logs.



Nothing about that day had gone remotely how she thought it would and no matter how many precautions she had taken to prevent it, nothing had been able to stop the burning sensation in her chest that had been there since the day she arrived.



“Can I get anything for you boss?” Lexie’s voice startled her momentarily. “No,” she replied without looking up at her. “Are you sure? There must be something I can do for you.” Isabella turned to her assistant and gave her a weak smile. “There’s nothing anyone can do anymore. It’s late; you should get some sleep. Goodnight.” Lexie gave her one last concerned look before heading to her room.



Returning her gaze to the fire she watched the flames flicker and pop; a frenzy of movement that began to blur her vision. She closed her eyes in an effort to refocus but they abruptly snapped back open when images of the day’s events began to flash in her mind.



She turned her back on the flames and shook her head as if trying to shake the images out somehow. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to think, and didn’t want to feel the overwhelming pain that was beginning to consume her.



She laid down on her bed, her tears hitting the pillow before her head. More images flooded her mind; images of her childhood when she had been happy in this city; of her times with Nico when they were young and in love; of the life that she had envisioned they would have when they grew up; of his eyes, cold as steel and full of contempt.



Giving into the pain she shut her eyes tightly and let more tears roll down her cheeks. Somewhere between the memories and fantasies she finally fell asleep.

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It was very late by the time Nico pulled up to Isabella’s house. He sat stiff as a board, in his seat and looked up at the flickering light coming from her bedroom. She was definitely home.



He approached the house and walked up the stone steps. Lifting his hand, hesitated briefly, and rang the door bell.

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Isabella stood outside flanked by her father on one side and a line of cold cement tombstones on the other. Ahead of her was a long stone casket surrounded by bunches of flowers. It was her mother’s casket; this was her funeral. Desperate sadness overcame her as she realized where she was and what was happening.



She looked up at her father, his face stoic staring back at her. Unnerved she looked back at the casket, but it was gone; only a tombstone in its place.



Her mother was gone, she hadn’t gotten to say goodbye and now she would never get the chance. In the distance the low drone of a bell began to toll.



She looked up at the bell tower in the church next to the graveyard. The bell tolled again.


She closed her eyes and when she opened them again the bell had become the bright light of the moon; she realized she was staring at it from the terrace of her house.




The bell rang again. Finally waking from her dream, she sat up in the bed realizing that someone was at the door. She listened and waited—no voices—Lexie must have been asleep. Who could that be at this hour, she thought as she left the warmth of her bed and headed downstairs.
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Nico stood at the door tempted to run. No one had answered yet; if he left now no one would ever know he had been there. He tuned to leave but the same force inside of him that had dragged him there made him turn back around to face the door.



The anticipation of seeing her again, up close, was overwhelming. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, and so much more, but the possibility that she would reject him left him in a panic. She had tried to open up to him and he had been a complete asshole to her. He wouldn’t blame her if she never spoke to him again.


Suddenly she was there, dressed in barely anything at all; the door half open staring at him with a look of anger mixed with anticipation of something—what that something was he didn’t know. “Nico. What are you doing here?”




He paused struggling internally for an answer to her question. He was there because he wanted to apologize; because he wanted to finish their conversation; because he wanted to look into her eyes and see if he could find some piece of the love that they used to share. But as he stood there, his heart pounding out of his chest, his body stiff with longing, he realized that he was there for another reason; an urgent want that he needed fulfilled.


Isabella held his gaze in silence feeling his eyes taking in every inch of her. His motive for being there was obvious now. And as she quickly searched her mind tryinig to find something, anything, to use as a reason to walk away and fight off her own desires, she realized that there were no more words to say…only actions.


No longer in control of his body, and ignoring the vehement protests of his mind, he took her up in his arms and kissed her passionately.


He began to feel the soothing release of his built up sexual tension. Her body felt soft and warm against him; her lips trembling against his. She wanted this as much as he did, he could feel it.



He pulled back and looked into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. Finding none he engaged her lips again and let his hands rediscover the softness of her curves. “I need you. He whispered, his body throbbing with passion. “God, I need you so bad. Can I come in?”



But the question proved rhetorical as he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the house…into her bedroom.



Incapable of holding anything back, they both gave into the pent up emotion that had plagued them for years and the burning passion that had resurfaced over the last few days.












Whatever the future held was of no consequence in that moment. They had been captured by their love for each other and neither one wanted to break free.