APRIL IN ROME
Chapter Six

Each lush, cool, refreshing April day in Rome blended into the next. Jack and Rose’s relationship blossomed like spring flowers—into camaraderie with a deep binding passion for one another. Her hungry eyes seduced; his masterful touch possessed. Jack was exceptionally experienced and he taught Rose all the ways of love. Each time was like the first for each wanted to please the other. She was always willing and eager and they gave without shame or hesitation. They were soul mates…made for one another. Tender or urgent, whichever the other sensed, never needing words to communicate their needs. What they had together was so special, so rare. And Rome smiled.

During their glorious Roman spring of dreams, Jack introduced Rose to many of the magnificent wonders of Italy. They embarked on weekend trips to Padua, a small northern township, and visited Florence, a Tuscan town where sixty percent of all the priceless works of art in the world are found. Also the birthplace of Michaelangelo and Leonardo da Vinci, Florence was the heart and soul of Italy’s great artistic past. Jack and Rose both shared a deep love of art, and nourishing that passion, spent countless hours exploring her great museums, galleries, and cathedrals.

At the Uffizi Gallery overlooking the Arno River, they were held in complete awe of the great Botticelli’s Venus. However, Florence’s famed cathedral, the Duomo, moved Rose to actual tears. The eccentric architect, Brunelleschi, had set out to build the grandest and most incomparable cathedral in Europe. Taking nearly one hundred fifty years to complete, it boasted the biggest freestanding dome in the world. And it was Rose’s opinion that he had accomplished his miraculous feat.

Upon leaving its premises, the two lovers wandered holding hands throughout the city and came upon the Gold Bridge, a medieval masterpiece over twelve hundred years old. Stores were still conducting business at the bridge, and it was here that Rose suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

"Jack, this is it!" she excitedly gushed. She gripped his hand and flung open the ancient shop door and pulled him through. "I’ll finally do what I’ve wanted to do for a long time. What a souvenir to remind me of this magnificent day and time." Turning to the shopkeeper, she impassionedly asked, "Sir, can you do a yellow rose?"

Jack stood back in open mouth astonishment. Balking, he stammered, "No, Rose, you must be joking? A tattoo?"

"Don’t tell me the illustrious Jack Dawson is an old fuddy duddy?" she teasingly rebuked.

"You know me better than that. But they’re just so permanent and…well...trashy, Rose!" Jack was really beginning to question her overzealous impulsiveness. He was extremely concerned this was one stunt that might come back to haunt her one day.

"No more trashy than posing practically nude for a rock magazine’s cover with two gaudy diamonds stuck in your tater hole!" she heatedly flung back.

"Tater hole?" he laughingly chided. Of course, Jack knew exactly to whom she was referring. Gabrielle Astor, a supermodel diva, and his last liaison that had been plastered all over the scandal sheets and overplayed to the hilt. He hadn’t even thought of her in…hell, he couldn’t recall when. But he was secretly pleased that she might be somewhat jealous. Should he ease her insecurities and put those fears to rest? Tragically, he didn’t think he would set that little matter straight just yet. He enjoyed playing the game of pursue and conquer too much. Keep her guessing, pondering and of course, interested.

Thinking to tease her, he mimicked a slow Texas drawl. "The Yellow Rose of Texas…The Lone Star State…Don’t mess with Texas!" Hesitating a few seconds, he proceeded with a roguish grin spread across his handsome face. "Ever heard of Freud, Miss DiStefano?"

Amusingly interested, Rose shot him a questioning glance.

"What is it with you Texans and your preoccupation with size?" he jabbed good humorously.

Without missing a beat and simultaneously casting his zipper a wicked grin, she wittily quipped, "Well, as we say in Texas, bigger is better, Mr. Dawson!"

For the first time in his life, Jack blushed from the top of his blond head to the tips of his toes. He couldn’t believe what had just came out of her lovely mouth!

"I believe you are blushing, Mr. Big Artiste!" Rose’s emerald eyes were twinkling and dancing impishly with mischievousness and adoration.

Jack was left totally speechless, mouth agape. Finally, finding his tongue, he lightly scolded, "You’re shameless, Rose, utterly shameless!"

Laughingly she responded, "Where have I heard that before? God Bless Texas!"

In the following days, they were laughing and carefree as children, totally happy in the moments they had stolen from the rest of the world. It thrilled Jack deeply that Rose was so natural and artless with him. No trace of self-consciousness marred their relationship or their intense lovemaking. She needed little urging and was always eager to receive him. She absorbed every precious moment of time in his loving embrace. Rose ardently responded to the desperation behind his virile need for her. She filled a need in Jack and she rather suspected it wasn’t entirely sexual.

After one of their fun-filled urgent encounters, Jack probed up on his elbow and intently gazed down at Rose, lying on her back with hands clasped behind her head.

"So, Rose, tell me something about your past life that I don’t already know," he softly probed.

Raising a wondering brow she slightly laughed and began, "Well, let’s see…I’m a native Texan, born and raised. No brothers or sisters, at least none that I know of."

Grinning down at her charming wit, he curiously queried, "I know you’re from Texas, but how and why did you come about being in Rome?"

"Just a promised long overdue visit with my Italian kin. However, I’m still here because of an unlucky hand in poker…course it turned out to be quite lucky in the end!" she reflectively verified.

"Poker? What in the name of…never mind! That sounds about right. But go on." Jack jokingly nudged.

Hesitating an instant, she became serious and ruefully continued, "No mother—no father for most of the time anyhow." She slightly shrugged her shoulders and pensively looked away.

Jack noticed her crinkled brow and desperately sought to soothe it. "What is he? A traveling salesman or something?"

"Or something is right. He’s kind of into public relations so to speak, self promotions," she eluded. All of Rose’s life, it was an inherent trait to sidestep her father’s celebrity status. It was well known in Jefferson but she never played on it like some might be tempted to do. She was just like everybody else in her small hometown and that’s the way she liked it. After all, he was just her father and his perpetual stardom was something she painfully tried to forget at times. It had cost her a great deal in her short lifetime.

Breaking into her silent revelry, Jack further questioned, "A publicist, perhaps?"

"No." Her voice trailed off and suddenly she sat bolt upright in the bed. Seeming to change the subject, she excitedly wondered, "Got any Eagles’ CD’s?"

Catching Jack completely by surprise, he mumbled, "Of course. They‘re one of my favorites. My best friend, Tommy in California, simply worships Don Hockley, the lead singer. He knows every word, every note of every song he has ever recorded. How about the Age of Innocence?" Jack had been digging through his vast collection and after finding the disk, placed it into the tuner. Coming back to the bed, he innocently declared, "He’s an idol!"

Becoming somewhat uneasy of a sudden, Rose averted her narrowed eyes out the window and wistfully agreed. "Yeah, an idol for sure. The honorable and respected Don Hockley."

"Rose, where were we before you pole vaulted me out of here craving 70’s music of all things?" Jack boyishly grinned and gently shook his head in wonder.

Giggling, Rose rolled over on her stomach and placed her chin in her hands. Should she reveal her father’s identity? Tragically, she thought not; at least for the time being anyhow. She was still quite sore with him after their last conversation and to recount their differences right now with Jack might sour the current ambiance. Some other time, perhaps. Coming to that conclusion, she brightly reverberated and asked, "Guess my birthday, Jack!"

Crooking an eyebrow, thoroughly amused, Jack stared at Rose’s glittering sage eyes. "Why…is it today? Tomorrow? Trying to wrangle a free dinner or gift out of me?"

"Well, you did promise me anything if I wouldn’t deny you!" She teasingly reminded him. Yet glowingly prompted, "But no, try again."

Jack’s face lit up and he snapped his fingers, "I got it…April fool’s…GOT TO BE!"

Rose laughed with him until tears started in their dancing eyes. Finding her breath, she corrected, "Well close! TRY HALLOWEEN!"

Jack and Rose both erupted into mad hysteria. They rolled over the bed holding their aching sides with pain and tears literally rushed down both their animated faces. They whooped and hollered so loudly that even the stoic bodyguards posted outside raised an inquiring brow at one another and the faintest of grins appeared on their normally bland countenances.

After finally regaining some semblance of composure, Jack interlocked gazes with Rose and softly chided, "That explains it. I knew there was something mystical and witchey about you!"

"You mean ‘bitchy’, go on, say it!" Rose giddily corrected. They were in such a genuinely boisterous mood they couldn’t help but laugh. It took the edge off the madness that usually haunted Jack and the hectic life he lived. He felt younger now than he had ever felt and it was heaven! Gradually, they became both playful and sensual.

Taking Rose’s St. Mary’s medallion in his hand, Jack leaned down and placed it to his starving lips in reverence. Feasting on her lowered eyelids, he gently caressed her aching breasts and stoked the fires of passion.

"Tell me, Jack Dawson, have I cast you under my bewitching spell?" Rose seductively whispered.

In answer, he groaned and fell on his back pulling her on top and astride him where they rode the waves of passion until they both fell into deep peaceful bliss.

The next evening, Martin was hosting a final wrap party for all cast and crewmembers of Gangs of Yesterday. Rose was in her hotel suite preparing for the event. She had been preening most of the day taking extra care with her preparations. Jack had been at the set all day finishing up some final scenes. He would be there any moment to escort her as his "companion" for the evening. She realized it meant a lot for him to "be seen in public" with a woman as an official date. And it flattered her more than he could realize; therefore, she had to be at her absolute best—for him. She wanted him to be proud—he wasn’t to be disappointed.

When Rose opened the door, Jack stood transfixed. His breath caught in his throat and his nostrils slightly flared. His body instantly responded to the beauty presented before him for his approval and possession.

Rose had chosen a rich brocade celery green cocktail dress, short in length, that hugged every shapely curve leaving very little to the imagination. It came off her shoulders, exposing the generous rounded curves of her bosom and displayed an exquisite necklace of jade and topaz stones that precisely matched the green of her eyes and the amber in her hair. But the overshadowing characteristic was the shimmering long mane of copper hair that fell to her waist. Most of the other times when they had gone out in public, Rose had always tamed her hair in a twist or braid. Tonight however, she emulated a pagan goddess. This was the way he saw her in their bed together; loose, flowing, and carefree but strictly for Jack to touch, to kiss, to breath. He wasn’t sure he could make the night in a civil manner, especially knowing Daniel Lyons was on the prowl!

Pulling Rose into his arms, he softly murmured, "I believe we may forego the party tonight!"

The gala was overflowing with several hundred guests. Nevertheless, Jack and Rose were attuned only to each other. Despite the crowd, they danced for hours in one another’s arms. At one point, Daniel came up to try and cut in but Jack brusquely informed him Rose’s dance card was full. Daniel very graciously bowed and secretly winked at Rose. Slapping Jack on the back, he confided, "It’s about time you staked that claim, boy! Congratulations, what a prize!"

Some time later, Martin finally found the two of them in a quiet corner sipping wine together and he noticed right away that Jack was whispering something very intimate in her ear by the blush that instantly suffused her cheeks. God, Don would murder him if he ever found out it was HE that had introduced these two. Jack Dawson could be quite a ladies’ man and by the look of things, Rose was not immune to that irresistible charm!

"Rose!" Martin greeted his cousin. "Tonight is our wedding anniversary and I would like to ask a very special favor!"

"Sure, Martin. That’s the least I can do after the momentous favor you did me!"

"I’d like for you to sing our favorite song, Dan Hill’s Without You. Do you know it?"

"Of course," Rose anxiously stammered, "but surely you jest!"

"Now, don’t be modest, Rose. I know it’s in your genes," Martin amicably encouraged.

Jack was stunned yet again and his face mirrored his stark amazement. Speaking to Jack, Martin clarified, "This girl’s mother could play any instrument known to mankind. Hell, Laurel could make a washtub sound like a symphony orchestra…and the voice of an angel," he dreamily sighed. "And, of course, her father…by the way, Rose, where is that rascal anyway these days?"

Slightly scowling, she revealed, "Oh, he has Fabrizio in America and introducing him to our family’s "seedier" ways of life. But please don’t mention him; the last time we talked he was none too happy with me over a certain card game I lost!"

Both Martin and Jack looked thoroughly amused but Martin quickly spoke up, "Vic allowed Fabri to go to America…unbelievable!"

Appearing slightly uncomfortable and trying to shift the current topic of conversation, Rose quickly eluded, "Not exactly! But anyway, I’ll do my best Martin! Cover your ears, Jack!"

Stepping up onto the makeshift musician’s stage, Rose daintily sat down at the piano and talked quietly for a few moments with the hired band. Taking the microphone, she announced in a voice full of confidence and charm, "There’s a very special couple whose having an anniversary tonight and at the request of a very loving husband, we dedicate this song to you, Signora Stefano, and Happy Anniversary!"

From the first note, Rose played and sang from the bottom of her heart. Hitting all the notes and lyrics to perfection as if she’d rehearsed it for a lifetime. She possessed a powerful, resonate voice that gave one chills when she hit the high notes and held them for breathtaking moments. Rose was a born musician and performer; consequently, no one wanted the song to end. And least of all, Jack. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. There was nothing he had found so far that she couldn’t do exceptionally well. The entire audience was brought into her incredible magic and not a single person uttered a sound or hardly drew a breath.

On her last note, an immediate roaring applause rang out and those people not already standing gave her the ultimate compliment: a standing ovation. Bestowing a radiant smile and bobbing a simple curtsy, she turned to the clapping musicians and applauded them each personally. Several partygoers shouted for an encore and consequently, she graciously obliged.

All Jack could do was grin, stare, and shake his handsome head. Rose was so unique, a rare precious gem in every respect. He felt it more with each passing day. She was always an element of surprise when he least expected it. That was Rose.

It was two o’clock in the morning before the two lovers returned to Jack’s room. They were physically exhausted from the dancing, lack of sleep, and an overindulgence of wine. As Rose walked to the bed, she slowly began to unzip the back of her dress and let it fall in a pool at her feet.

Turning around she softly whispered, "Make love to me tonight, Jack." At his wolfish grin, she huskily corrected, "I need you more tonight than life."

Rose instinctively knew their time together in Rome was ending. They both would be returning to the States soon and although she felt they truly loved one another, there had been no promises of future commitments between them. Tonight for some reason she sensed the seasonal winds of change in the mystical April air and Jack had to know how she felt. And if they should part and go their separate ways, he would never have cause to doubt her deep devotion and love. Yet, if they did…how could she ever let go? So, she poured her heart out and loved him with all her body and soul as if tomorrow would never come.

Jack made love to Rose with such gentleness and tender care that tears started in her stormy eyes. As Jack shuddered, he noticed the glimmer brimming in her soulful gaze and bent down to kiss her eyelids. Gathering her close to him, just before they fell into deep slumber, he curiously whispered, "Are you saying your good-byes, Rose?"

"I hope not, Jack. Just promising you my heart—if you desire it."

Jack pensively laid back and silently pondered the dilemma they were facing. Talking to himself he revealed, "I love you, too, Rose. I just wish my life wasn’t so complicated and where our destinies are leading us."

The next morning, Rose was the first to awake. Lifting her head from the pillow, she stared at his sleeping visage memorizing each achingly familiar detail. She lightly kissed his brows, his cheeks, his nose with a womanly appreciation for all that she saw. In claiming his swollen lips, she soon gained his ardent response and their mouths and tongues joined in an avaricious search. Unable to subdue a muted moan, he opened his sleep-filled eyes and pressed her down into the rumpled sheets. Rose softly murmured, "Jack, I really must go. It’s my grandfather’s birthday celebration today and I must attend."

"I know," he conceded yet sensually whispered, "But later…much later." His greedy eyes never wanted to leave her angelic face. Always when he thought of her, his flesh reacted instantly; swelling, filling, aching. His eyes darkened and intensified with leashed passion. Even after last night, he still wished himself deep within her. His eyes lingered on her sensual full lips and he took her with all the love he could give.

And much, much later, knowing she must go, Rose reluctantly left their bed and went to shower. Jack joined her. She didn’t know why but she intuitively breathed, "I hope our time together is not too fleeting—like flowers in April—they’ll be gone in a few days; it seems such a waste!"

Cocking his head, Jack lovingly suggested, "Beauty enjoyed at its peak is never a waste." And he knew at that precise moment what he must do. This April night in Rome would be forever etched in their hearts.

Throughout most of the day, Jack was in a mad dash…for tonight had to be absolutely perfect. He had taken great care in choosing the platinum eternity ring that was currently in his pocket near his heart. He knew Rose well enough to know that she wouldn’t want a huge diamond for an engagement ring. Grinning, he recalled the memory at the tattoo shop where she had displayed a flare of temper and what term was it that she had used…gaudy? Jack was ridiculously beaming with happiness and skittish as a newborn colt. Leaping off the elevator, he enigmatically instructed Lovett, the bodyguard, "There is a very special lady coming up tonight…please show her into my suite posthaste!"

"Will do, Mr. Dawson. A very special night, I take it?" Lovett conspiringly grinned.

"The most…good man, Lovett? Please see that we’re not disturbed in any way…hold all intrusions…no matter what it takes!" Jack good spiritedly commanded.

Jack slaved the entire evening transforming the suite of rooms into a romantic haven. Every available red rose in Rome was brought in and displayed in every corner emitting their delicious fragrant scents. Dozens of white candles in every shape and size were lit bathing the room in an ambiance of romance. He even went so far as to order up red satin sheets for their bed and placed one perfect white Easter lily on Rose’s pillow. He wryly smiled recalling his once foolish notion that Rose was merely a lily among roses. On the bedside table, he found Rose’s St. Mary’s necklace that she had inadvertently left behind that morning. He placed the ring through its gold chain and placed it upon the lily. Perfect! He placed a trail of roses into the bath where he would be waiting in a warm rose-scented tub. Not very original, but romantic, no less! He miraculously found a chef experienced in Tex-Mex cuisine and a multi-course meal was prepared. Margaritas were frozen and one more thing…just the right music to set the mood for this momentous occasion!

Later that evening, Gabrielle Astor haughtily strolled into the Grand Hotel de Russie in Rome, intent on seeing her current love interest. Arrogant, vain, and overly tall, she flamboyantly entered the lift and snootily called for Jack Dawson’s floor.

"Sorry, Miss but Mr. Dawson cannot be disturbed tonight. He’s expecting someone; a very special lady!" Lovett indulged.

"And who in the hell do you think I am…I’m his fiancee! We are to spend some much deserved time together in private…don’t you know who I am?" she insultingly demanded.

"Oh yes, I’m sorry…I’ve seen your and Mr. Dawson’s pictures…I do apologize for my ignorance," Lovett sheepishly implored.

So, he must have heard I was on my way, Gabrielle inwardly crooned. The sly dog; nothing gets past Jack. I’ll just have to act surprised.

Lovett let her in the suite of rooms and she admiringly took it all in and set her cases down. Smiling smugly she breathed, "Well, he has definitely missed me!" She heard soft music drifting from the bath chamber and seductively began to undress.

At that moment, Rose was returning from the gala at the DiStefano villa and stepped onto the elevator radiantly beaming. "Mr. Dawson’s floor, please," she sweetly requested.

"Sorry, miss. Mr. Dawson is not accepting guests this evening. His fiancee just arrived from the States." Lovett knew he had revealed too much information but there was something about this overly young girl that he wanted to protect. He thought she needed to know before things got totally out of hand. But instantly, he realized he very possibly had committed a grave error.

Rose’s face blanched white and her heart fell at her feet. In a cracking disbelieving voice she wavered, "There must be a mistake," She began to violently tremble and knew she was about to become wretchedly sick. Lowering her head to hide her misting eyes that were darkening with agony, she shakily stammered, "Take me down, please, and do hurry!"

Hearing the door open behind him, Jack sensually beckoned, "Come in…I’ve been expecting you, mia!"

"Well, this is a surprise, Jack. You make me so happy…move over!" Gabrielle excitedly simpered.

Jack shockingly whirled around. "What the…who let you in!" he hotly bellowed.

"Settle down, baby. Your man, of course. I admit he let the cat of the bag so to speak. He said you were expecting me and tonight was to be very special…and very romantic I gather," Gabrielle snidely whined.

Jack instantly vaulted out of the Jacuzzi, forgoing a towel, and furiously screamed, "Get out—NOW!"

Ripping the terry cloth robe from its hook, he bolted for the door. Running breakneck speed, out of breath he viciously grabbed a surprised Lovett by the throat. Jerking his thumb in the direction of his room he yelled, "Has anyone else besides that woman been brought up here? Tell me!" he desperately pleaded while shaking the bodyguard fiercely.

"Of course not, Mr. Dawson. By your orders. A young lady did try to come up but I turned her away…I told her you were not to be disturbed tonight that you were with your fiancee!" Lovett sheepishly explained.

Jack turned livid with cold dark rage as his body began to quiver. "My fiancee! Who the hell said…"

Lovett quickly clarified, "The lady in your suite claims she is!"

Jack was frantic and practically lifting Lovett off the floor by the scruff of his neck. "Where did she go—what did she say—every Goddamn word!" he insanely thundered.

Jack wailed in horrendous anguish like a wounded animal. A terrible eerie haunting sound that echoed throughout the hotel and sent chills down everyone’s spine. His face twisted in pain and torment yet simultaneously he was seething with hellish fury for he knew what the outcome of this fateful night had cost him and Rose. He savagely cursed himself for not taking her away sooner—away from this circus—for not telling her everything when he had the chance. He had to find her and NOW.

Dropping his throbbing head into his trembling hand, he sank to his knees and desperately prayed, "Please, God, don’t do this to us!"

Chapter Seven
Stories