by Robyn DeHart
“You seemed more than willing to dance with Rafe.”
“Yes, but he asked. You did not.”
He leaned closer until there was but a breath’s distance between them. “Are you suggesting that had I asked you to dance you would have picked me? The second son of a poor duke? That is doubtful.”
“I wasn’t given the freedom to pick anyone, but I would have loved to dance with you.”
He leaned back and then was quiet for several moments. “Are you still frightened?”
“Not now, not while you’re beside me.” It was the truth and not something she should ever have admitted to him. It was an admission that would give him too much power, and that was terrifying.
Chapter Eight
Lilith had fallen asleep about twenty minutes before they arrived at Ellis’s townhome. Gabe had enjoyed her lush curves pressed against him, her head resting on his shoulder. He’d been hesitant to wake her, but staying out here in the carriage would not assist them in their investigation, and it left her too much in the open, in danger.
They climbed the stairs together and had not even reached for the door before it opened and one of Ellis’s servants met them. “Your Grace, the viscount left you this note. He instructed I give it to you as soon as you arrived.”
Someone took Isabel. I’ll bring her back shortly.
Gabriel folded the parchment and stuck it in his greatcoat pocket. “We must get inside, Lilith.”
Panic filled her eyes. “Why? What has happened? Where is Isabel?” She bolted through the door and called for her niece. “Isabel?” Lilith moved toward the staircase leading to the bedchambers.
“Lilith, she’s gone,” Gabe said.
She froze, then turned to him. “What does that mean?”
“That is all I know.”
“Is that what the note said?” She walked toward him and started to reach for the inside of his greatcoat.
“He did not give details. Ellis has never been one to embellish.”
“I’ve got to find her.” Lilith made for the front door.
He took her by the shoulders and met her panicked gaze. “There is nothing you can do but put yourself in danger. Ellis has gone after her. He will bring her back. You can be assured of that.” He led her forward. “Come, let us sit you down and get you something to drink.” Gabe stepped into Ellis’s study to find furniture overturned and a bronze bust on the floor with a bloody stain on the base. “It appears as if he was attacked in here.”
“Attacked?” Lilith’s hands went to her throat. “Oh my God. Isabel.”
She looked near faint, so he assisted her to a chair. He then poured her a drink and handed it to her. “Drink this.”
He stepped over to where the servant stood waiting in the doorway. “Tell me what you know.”
“We heard a ruckus, but by the time we got here, the girl was gone. Viscount Ellis had a nasty knot on his head, bleeding down in his eyes, too,” the servant said, his cockney accent thick. “He scrawled the note, gave me the instructions, and left immediately.”
“How far behind them was he?”
The young man shook his head. “Not long. Maybe quarter of an hour.”
“Good man,” Gabe said, and then he shut the door and turned back to Lilith. Damnation if he didn’t also want a drink, but now was not the time to lose himself in a glass. He walked over to where she still sat holding the glass he’d given her.
Her brown eyes looked up at him, and he knew without a doubt that he’d do or say whatever he could to restore the confidence to her gaze. The fear in her was palpable, and he did the only thing he could think of—he pulled her up into his arms and switched their places so that he sat in the chair and pulled her back down atop him. He smoothed his hand on her back and kissed her forehead.
“Trust me when I say that Ellis is our very best rider and tracker. In fact he does all our training for horse skills. He will find her and bring her back. She’ll likely be here by morning.”
She exhaled a long, slow breath. “Just keep doing that.” She nuzzled her head into his neck, and he had the overwhelming sensation of rightness. There was no other way to describe it. His instinct at recognizing that was to stand and drop her to the floor. He and Lilith did not belong together; he’d learned that years ago. Still, he moved his hand up her back and down it again. “Tell me your fondest memory as a child,” he said.
“Why?”
“I want to know.”
“I know what you’re trying to do. Occupy my mind with something else so I won’t think about Isabel missing, just as you did in the carriage.”
“Did it work?”
“This is different.”
“Humor me.”
“Very well.” She released a long breath that tickled across his neck. “I had a rather eccentric old aunt who would come visit periodically. She would always come with these wild stories of her travels, amazing animals she’d seen, men she’d fallen in love with, spices she’d tried…she was a wonder. When she’d visit, it was my favorite time of year, even more so than Christmas. She’d bring me presents, but mostly I craved her stories.
“One time in particular, she came, and one evening whilst my parents were out Aunt Tilly wanted to bake some biscuits she’d had on her travels. We nearly set the entire kitchen ablaze, but we had so much fun. When it was all over, we were both covered in flour and sugar. My parents were furious, but it was worth it.”
He found he was smiling at her story, longed to know more of her Aunt Tilly. “Whatever happened to her?”
“The rumor is she was eaten by a hippopotamus on a trip down the Nile. I suspect the truth was far less dramatic. She likely fell ill and died as most people do. It was the summer before I came out.”
“That is a lovely memory.”
“What of yours?” she asked.
“Boys don’t have wonder-filled childhoods.” Especially not second sons. They were most often left to their own devices, ignored and forgotten. It had given him plenty of time to read, which had led him to the Brotherhood and his unique skill at reading people, but he’d been lonely, and he refused to tell her that. “I went to school always in the shadow of my older brother, so I read a lot. Not much excitement there.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“This, holding me, trying to make me forget. It’s rather nice to be comforted.”
Without another thought he bent his head and kissed her.
It was a gentle, sweet kiss to comfort her, he told himself. That was how it started out— a soft kiss, nearly chaste in its tenderness. But her lips were so pliant, so warm, and so soft that desire coiled through him and darted in every direction at once. He moved one hand behind her neck and pulled her closer to him. He held her firmly in place. She sighed and relaxed into him. Everything changed, shifted. Gabe pressed into her, her lips parted, and what had begun as tenderness changed abruptly to hunger. He took her mouth with a ferocity that surprised even him.
His tongue slid into her mouth, met hers, and merged as if they were one, as if this were the woman he’d been meant to kiss. He explored until he thought he would go mad from wanting her. He kept enough of his senses to keep his hands in place, to not run them over her ill-fitting dress and feel what curves she hid demurely beneath.
He knew, though, that he needed to stop now, or else there would be no turning back. There was no denying, no pretending, what he wanted. He wanted desperately to lay her back on this settee and spend the rest of the day exploring every curve of her body and pleasuring her until she forgot about Hazleton’s dead body and Isabel’s being in danger. Desire or not, he knew it was time to stop. Finally he was able to pull himself away.
He stood, putting space between the two of them. She still sat on the settee, eyes closed, lips parted, a flush covering her cheeks. Damn, but she was beautiful.
…
Lilith’s body still hummed with awareness as Gabe walked her to her room. He leaned in close,
kissed her cheek. “You know where to find me if you need anything,” he whispered, then turned to go.
She stepped inside her room and closed the door behind her. Had that been an invitation? She certainly needed it to have been. She needed his touch, his embrace. If she stayed in here alone all night, she’d go mad with worry. She knew he was right—Viscount Ellis had a much better chance of finding Isabel. Lilith had no notion of where to look. Instead she tried to steer her thoughts to their embrace. In Ellis’s study. In the storage closet at the school.
She’d danced with enough to know that plenty of the men in London were athletic, though most were not. Gabriel, however, was the very picture of health. His arms and chest were firm with tight muscles, his legs strong and undoubtedly the most attractive in all of England.
Kissing him had been most pleasant. More than pleasant, it had been world-tilting. And that was precisely what she needed at the moment—something that would completely take her thoughts off Isabel. Tonight Gabriel could become her lover. She’d be a liar if she said she didn’t want that. At least for one night. To hell with what it meant. Tonight she needed a man’s touch and nothing more.
She was a woman of the world, a widow. She knew the realities of love, or rather, the delusions of love. Romantic words mattered not. She wanted him to warm her bed, to make her feel a woman in every sense of the word. Some secret part of her heart bucked against that logic. Some secret part longed to be loved.
If she were to go to him, she’d need to wear something more appropriate. She had no lingerie or anything that a woman might wear for a lover. She had only a night rail and her shift with her, both of which were exceedingly practical; she’d long since done away with her filmy night rails meant to entice a man’s interest. Thornton rooted around like a pig in the dark, took what he wanted, then rolled off.
The maid came after she’d rung the bell and assisted her out of her dress. Lilith dismissed her while she decided what to put on. She decided on the shift; it was the softest, thinnest fabric she had. The most similar thing she owned to lingerie. She eased it over her head and examined her reflection. It fell to her ankles and highlighted her shoulders with its cap sleeves. The fabric was simple with no unnecessary ruffles or embellishments. A single tie at her back held it together, but tonight it would have to do. Closing her dressing gown over it, she peeked into the hallway before stepping outside.
Gabriel’s room was at the end of the hall on the left, and she paused outside his door before lightly rapping on it. As if he’d been poised waiting for her, the door opened. He stood there in nothing more than his trousers, and the sight of his bare chest dried her mouth instantly. She swallowed.
The sinewy lines of his muscles drew her attention to his taut abdomen; a scattering of brown hair narrowed into a thin line that disappeared beneath his trousers. She nearly turned and ran the other way. There was distraction, and then there was this sort of distraction, and she feared the latter would nearly make her lose her mind. He held his hand out to her and she took it, letting the door close behind her. She was going to do this. She was going to become his lover.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked.
“Yes, please.”
While he poured them brandies, she untied her dressing gown. When he turned back to hand her the glass, his eyes roamed the length of her. “Is that your dressing gown?”
She swallowed. “It is.” She shrugged out of the fabric and allowed it to fall to the floor.
“You are exquisite,” he said. He stood for a moment longer, holding both glasses before he held the drink out to her.
She took a hearty sip, her eyes watering as the acrid liquid burned down her throat.
It didn’t matter why he wanted her, she reminded herself. Tonight she was wanted, and that was all that mattered. Tonight would be a night she remembered all her life. Some women never got to experience passion. Some wives even, which she knew from her six years of marriage.
She took another sip of the brandy, then set the glass down and made her way over to him. With one finger, she traced the hair that trailed down his torso. She could see him straining against his pants, his desire for her already there, waiting. Nervousness radiated through her, making her feel the blushing virgin again. Somehow she knew that this night with Gabe would be totally different from Thornton’s fumbling in the dark.
She nuzzled into Gabe’s neck, inhaling deeply, trying to memorize his scent, the way his body felt pressed against her. Gently she kissed the skin, loving the taste of him. He groaned softly and ran his hands down her arms. Gooseflesh followed his touch, and her nipples hardened. With one hand, he pulled the ties at her back and the shift slid down her arms until the flimsy material pooled at her feet, and she stood before him in nothing but her personal assets.
Both of his hands came up to cup her breasts. His hands kneading the sensitive flesh only fueled her desire. She closed her eyes, concentrated on his touch, the warmth of his hands, the small-calloused patch on his thumb as it flicked against her nipple. She bit down on her lip. She wanted more, wanted him now, but she didn’t want to rush him. She wanted to feel every sensation there was to be felt. Her hand slid down his torso to rest on his flat, hard stomach, and his muscles contracted beneath her touch. He pulled her to him and kissed her fervently, his tongue sliding against hers in a passionate dance that nearly made her climax. With both his hands, he gripped her to him, lifting her up by her bottom.
“You have a perfect bottom, Lilith.”
That only made her smile.
His erection pushed hard against her bare stomach, and she longed to wrap her legs around him, to put that part of his body firm against the core of her own. She lifted one leg in instinct, and he moved her so that her back pressed into the wall, then he wrapped her other leg around him. Finally she could feel his hard ridge pulsing between them. She tried to rub against him, but found the fabric of his trousers to be much in the way.
“Lilith,” he groaned.
It was all the encouragement she needed. She reached between them and unfastened his trousers to free his hardened flesh. She needed it, needed him inside her. With some assistance, she got his pants off and finally could feel the hot hardness at her entrance. She bucked against him, and he slid up just enough so that the tip nestled against her opening.
“Now, Gabriel, please. I am no innocent virgin; there is no need to be gentle. I want you inside me.”
His mouth met hers in a fierce kiss. Desire curled through her like wildfire. With one swift movement he pushed into her. The wall behind her chilled her naked back, but she didn’t care. He moved in and out of her, holding her legs around him and pushing her into the wall behind her. Pleasure built, and with every thrust, her arousal increased.
“Yes,” she breathed. “Oh yes.”
He bit her shoulder and she shrieked with pleasure. The climax was building within her, curling into a tight spring that she knew was seconds away from exploding. Waiting and waiting for it, she was teetering on the cusp, and the feeling of it made her dizzy with ecstasy. It burst inside her, and she felt her body convulse around him. She tightened her legs and grabbed on to his shoulders as it rocketed through. A moment later she felt his body stiffen, and then he released a guttural moan as he lost his seed within her.
For several moments they stayed in that position, sweaty, out of breath, and holding on to each other. When she finally brought her legs back down to the floor, she found herself off balance and weak. He lifted her to the bed and placed her gently onto the lush sheets, then lay down beside her. She said nothing, merely snuggled up against him, relishing the smell of him permeating her skin. His hand absently stroked her back. Never had she imagined that lovemaking could be so hurried and passionate and so satisfying. Her body had reacted in ways she hadn’t known it could.
“I suppose I should make my way back to my own bedchamber.” She leaned over and kissed him, and he caught her by the back of the neck and held her close to him
.
“You could stay.”
“I didn’t want to ask, but I’d really like to.”
“Good.” He rolled them over so that he was above her. “Because I don’t think I’m done with you yet.”
…
Now that she was in his bed, he wasn’t certain he’d ever let her leave. He kissed her. Her hunger was evident in the first brush of his lips. She opened her mouth and snaked her tongue out to slide it seductively across his teeth. He hardened instantly. Then her tongue was in his mouth and rolling across his in a passionate kiss that seared him to the bone.
The top of the bedcovers must have fallen, as he could feel her erect nipples tease the hairs on his chest. He groaned and deepened the kiss. Her hands moved all over his back, in his hair. He reached between them and shoved the bedcovers down so that there was nothing between him and her curvy, luscious body. In that moment he remembered all the times he’d imagined this, imagined seeing her a million times, but even in his dreams, she hadn’t looked so beautiful. With one hand, he started at her neck and touched all the way down to her thigh.
Her breasts were perfect, round and pert with dark, rose-colored areolas. He dipped his mouth to one, covering the tip. She cried out. Her nails dug into his arms. He laved kisses from one breast to the other and all in between. Her soft olive-colored skin was warm beneath his lips, simply delicious under his tongue.
“Please don’t stop,” she said, her voice full of lust and heat.
He filled one hand with her large breast, bringing the nipple to his mouth. Her back arched, and she cried out. With one swift movement, she propped herself up and then pulled him down to her. Her legs wrapped around him, and she rubbed herself against his erection.
Lilith. This was Lilith, not some woman he’d bedded and imagined was her. She was truly here, begging him to make love to her. That thought alone should have stopped him, but there was no turning back now.
Chapter Nine
