Sapphire Beautiful Read Online Free PDF

hardbacks.
    “What did you want to drink?” I ask again.
    His focus is still on my books. “Are you a grad student?”
    I knew the subject would eventually come up. I just didn’t think it would come up this quickly. What do I do when I’m not being paid to screw him?
    “I’m not a grad student.”
    When he turns to face me he looks skeptical. “You have a lot of books about medieval history and culture. Shelves filled with them.”
    “And your name is Dante,” I say in an attempt to lighten the mood and change the subject. I don’t really want him to know about my life outside of our arrangement.
    He doesn’t smile. His expression actually doesn’t change at all. “I wish I could tell you that I was named after Dante Alighieri, one of the greatest poets in history, but neither of my parents has an intellectual bone it their bodies.”
    “About that drink?” Another desperate attempt to lighten the mood.
    His eyes meet mine for a few moments. It’s a look that says: You may be older, but I’m the one in charge .
    The person with the money is the person with the power.
    “I’d like to finish looking at your books.”
    My throat goes dry. “Okay.” Being a professor I’m used to being the one in control, at least in the classroom. And most of my students are around Dante’s age. The situation in which I now find myself has kind of shifted the ground under my feet. I feel completely off kilter.
    I wait patiently as he scans the rest of the titles. And I’ve got a lot of titles. A huge library filled with thousands of books.
    “These aren’t history,” he says when he gets to Doug’s bookshelf. I’ve gotten rid of most of his personal items, but I haven’t attempted to tackle his collection of books yet.
    “Cultural anthropology?” Dante raises an eyebrow which seems to indicate that he’d like an explanation. Those books are a lot different than the rest of the collection.
    “Those are—um— were my husband’s.” 
    He stares into my eyes. His gaze is so intense that it chills me.
    “I was married. He—um—died.”
    “You should get rid of his books,” Dante states coldly.
    “I know.” There’s another moment of awkward silence between us.
    Then his eyes land on a lithograph I have displayed in the hallway right across from the library. I like to think of it as the centerpiece of the house. It’s one of Salvador Dali’s illustrations of Dante’s Divine Comedy , an epic poem from the Middle Ages that is considered one of the greatest works in literature.
    Ship of Souls illustrating Purgatory: Canto Two is a haunting image. Of the one hundred illustrations that Dali did for the Divine Comedy Ship of Souls is the artwork that spoke to me the most.
    The lithograph cost a small fortune, almost as much as all of my living room furniture, but every time I look at the piece it takes my breath away and I know the money spent was worth it.
    I wait as Dante studies the artwork. He seems to be extremely deliberate in everything he does, and equally intense.
    Once he’s finished with his examination he stares at me again. 
    “Do you want that drink now?” I ask.
    He nods, but still doesn’t tell me what he wants.
    “Beer? Wine?”
    “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
    I turn and head toward the kitchen. To my surprise Dante follows me. I expected to get the drinks and bring them to him, but he’s trailing me like a puppy.
    “I could bring the drinks out to the living room, if you’d like to relax in there.”
    He shakes his head. “That’s okay.”
    Everything in the kitchen is inspected with the same intensity that he used to analyze my books and artwork. I half expect him to start opening the cabinets so he can examine what’s inside each and every one of them as well.
    “Do you like Merlot?” I ask. It’s the only wine I have on hand. I’m not much of a drinker, but a friend of Doug’s from college gave us a bottle when he visited last year.
    “Okay,” he says,