Now that Jessie was on the other side, though, she could see him for what he was. His sense of humor was cutting and he had an inflated sense of himself. And his wife, Jessie acknowledged, turning her attention to Philippa, was a complete idiot.
“So, how are your parents?” Jessie addressed herself to Edward since Philippa seemed too engrossed in looking around the room.
Edward’s mouth actually turned down at the corners, and Jessie had a sudden glimpse of how he was going to age. It wasn’t pretty.
“They’re well. They’re still exceedingly pleased with their daughter-in-law.”
“And Philippa? Are you enjoying your champagne?”
Jessie managed to curb her instinct to roll her eyes as Edward’s wife giggled, raising her glass to her lips for another sip. “I love champagne! Although”—Philippa leaned conspiratorially close to Jessie despite her husband trying his best to haul her back—“I’m sure Edward wouldn’t give me anything I wouldn’t like to drink. He knows my tastes so well.”
Looking pleased with himself, Edward raised his wife’s hand, kissing the back of it. He raised his head and pinned Jessie with his gaze. “I always have had the most impeccable taste. With only one exception, and that was remedied easily enough.”
Jessie blushed. She knew he wasn’t talking about champagne anymore, and frankly, she was pleased she’d been able to talk to him for this long before he brought up the crash and burn of their engagement.
“And how is your...punch?” Edward managed to inject his sneer into his words, telling Jessie how unrefined she was for selecting the colorful drink rather than the champagne he and his wife were sipping daintily.
Before Jessie could draw breath to respond, she felt the stroke of a hand across her lower back.
“There you are, love. I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you.” And with that, Gabriel Hartley injected himself right back into Jessie’s evening. “Not to worry. I won’t leave your side for the rest of the evening since you look far too tempting by half, and I wouldn’t want anyone to reach an incorrect conclusion.”
Jessie stumbled over how to respond, since it seemed to her that Gabriel was causing people to reach that very conclusion with record speed. She blushed and ducked her head, not sure what to say.
Gabriel wrapped an arm around her, resting his big hand on her hip where his fingers stroked idly. “How’s the punch, love?”
Jessie looked up at him incredulously. What the hell was he doing? “It’s very good. It’s the perfect combination of sweet and sour.”
Gabriel’s lips grazed her temple, and he turned to look at Edward and his wife. Edward was staring back and forth between them, his mouth open and his composure gone, and Philippa stood as nonchalantly as before, still sipping her champagne.
“I really think punch making is an art. Don’t you? It’s difficult to balance the flavors, and I love how sophisticated the end result can be.” Gabriel snagged Jessie’s cup, taking a deep swallow of the ruby liquid and draining the glass. “Mmm. A fine specimen.”
Jessie stared at him, not wanting to admit how much she’d enjoyed watching the muscles of his throat work as he swallowed.
Edward seemed to have recovered his equilibrium, his narrowed eyes causing Jessie to inhale sharply. She knew that look, and knew it was only a matter of moments before he said something scathing.
True to form, Edward wasted no time. “I prefer something a little more...refined. You know, something that doesn’t seem too inexpensive. I believe we’ll stick to our champagne and leave the sampling of punch to the two of you.”
Jessie cringed, Edward’s words offensive on so many levels. She looked up at Gabriel as he began to laugh.
“Any ponce can open a bottle of champagne. It takes a true connoisseur to appreciate the levels of flavor in a good punch.” Gabriel slapped Edward on the shoulder in camaraderie, as if the two had shared a great joke. Jessie thought it could have been her imagination, but she really thought Gabriel had slapped Edward a little harder than necessary.
They were all spared Edward’s rebuttal as a servant approached carrying a silver tray of tiny glass bowls, each with a minute spoon.
“My Lords and Ladies, would you like to try the ices? Dame Violet had them brought special from Italy.”
Jessie perked up immediately. She loved gelato! “What flavors do you have?”
The servant smiled at her, warming to his subject. “I’m afraid I don’t have many left, and if you like I’ll go and fetch others. Here I have vanilla, as well as tart cherry and chocolate-cayenne pepper.”
“Oh, I’ll have the tart cherry if no one else would like it, since there’s only one left.” Glancing at her companions, Jessie was delighted when Edward and his wife shook their heads, and Gabriel reached for the tiny bowl and handed it to her, putting her punch cup on the servant’s tray in exchange for the little confection.
“We’d like vanilla.” Without so much as glancing at his wife, Edward scooped up two of the tiny bowls, handing one to Philippa and keeping one for himself. He, too, put their empty champagne flutes onto the tray.
Jessie snorted quietly. She could have predicted Edward would choose vanilla. Her snort ended in a gasp, though, as Gabriel suddenly pinched her side, causing her to jump toward him from the ticklish sensation he’d left just above her hip. She squirmed against him, wanting to rub her side where he’d pinched it, but unable to because of the spoon and bowl she now juggled. Gabriel rubbed her side soothingly just before picking up a bowl of the chocolate-cayenne pepper ice, and Jessie looked at him incredulously once more. He smiled guilelessly at her as he lifted the spoon to his mouth, and Jessie tore her eyes away. Watching that tiny spoon disappear between his lips had done interesting things to her libido, and she could feel a warm sensation start to spread outward from her core.
“How’s the ice, love?” Gabriel’s voice washed over Jessie like warm chocolate.
“It’s delicious.” Jessie spooned up another mouthful of the ice, loving the vivid pink color and sweet-tart taste.
Edward snorted. “Of course, that flavor is perfect for you.”
Jessie felt her face begin to flame, and she felt Gabriel go very still beside her. She didn’t know where Edward was going with this, but she didn’t think it would be somewhere pleasant.
“And what does that mean?” Gabriel’s voice was deceptively mild, but Jessie could hear the steel underneath. Edward, evidently, could not.
“Well, you know the old saying ‘you are what you eat.’ I was just thinking that Jessie chose well for herself.” Edward’s eyes bored into Jessie’s.
“It’s interesting if we apply the same theory to you and your wife.” Gabriel deliberately ate another mouthful of his ice, letting the full impact of his words sink in. Unfortunately, Edward seemed to be incredibly dense when it came to this sort of repartee, and Jessie almost felt sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.
“Why on earth would we be ashamed of our gelato? Vanilla is a perfectly respectable flavor. It’s refined, elegant, and universally liked.” Edward looked at his wife and smiled smugly at Jessie and Gabriel, puffing himself up like he’d scored an incontrovertible point in his favor.
“Vanilla is bland.” Gabriel calmly continued eating. “That’s the only universal thing about it. It’s plain, and it often needs something to spice it up.”
Edward began to laugh, although to Jessie, his laughter rang hollow. “Well, then, I must say you two are perfectly well matched.”
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “And why is that?”
Jessie was afraid she knew where this was going, and she felt powerless to stop it, like she was caught in the path of a speeding locomotive.
Edward smiled triumphantly. “Well, as I said, it’s perfect that Lady Jessamy’s flavor is...tart. It really suits her.”
Jessie decided Edward really was an idiot, because even he didn’t understand the precariousness of his position. Either an idiot, or incredibly brave.
“And it’s well known,” Edward continued, blissfully unaware of the pissed-off MI6 agent ready to tear his head off, “it’s well known that Your Grace’s tastes run to the...ah...exotic.” With that, Edward smiled primly at them as if he’d scored a major coup, and he lifted his gelato—his boring, plain gelato—to his mouth once more.
Gabriel was nonplussed. Jessie could tell he was fighting an internal war with himself as to whether or not to break Edward’s nose, but as awesome as that move might be, Jessie didn’t want to give the gossips the satisfaction of a scene.
The tinkling sound of Jessie’s laughter brought all eyes to her, and she reached out and deliberately stroked Gabriel’s cheek. “And here I thought my flavor was perfectly matched to you because I know how much you love cherries.”
Gabriel stared at her a moment, seemingly stunned, then he threw his head back and laughed. He leaned down and nuzzled the top of her head, still chuckling.
Jessie tilted her head coquettishly, looking up at Gabriel. “And what does chocolate-cayenne pepper say about you, Your Grace?” Jessie heard Gabriel inhale sharply at her use of his formal title, and it struck her suddenly that he liked when she referred to him like that. She filed the information away for future use.
“I think,” she continued, her eyes twinkling merrily, Edward and Philippa forgotten in the moment, “I think your gelato is just like you. Hot, dark, and rich.”
Gabriel’s laughter drew every eye in the room, and Jessie risked a glance at Dame Violet. The woman looked positively defeated, and she gazed enviously at the couple commanding the lion’s share of attention.
“I believe, sir”—Gabriel pinned Edward with an icy glare, now that his laughter had subsided—“that we’ll leave you to your vanilla evening. Good night.”
With that, Gabriel swept Jessie away on his arm, and Jessie acknowledged that she was just as happy to have his company. They set their bowls down and made their way to Dame Violet and her husband, and before Jessie could say anything, Gabriel squeezed her hand warningly. Jessie zipped her lips, content to let Gabriel take the lead.
“Your Grace!” Dame Violet’s hands fluttered nervously. “You are not leaving so soon?”
Gabriel’s look was intense, and Dame Violet quailed visibly beneath his scrutiny. “Yes, Your Ladyship, we are.”
Jessie noticed that Gabriel had placed the tiniest emphasis on the “we,” and she could tell that it hadn’t been lost on Dame Violet, either. The woman’s eyes widened as she looked back and forth between them, and as she glanced over toward Edward and Philippa her eyes darted back to Gabriel and she blanched. Gazing up into his face, Jessie was grateful that the coldness in his eyes wasn’t directed at her.
Addressing Dame Violet once more, Gabriel bid his adieu. “Thank you for the evening, Your Ladyship. It has been most...enlightening.”
Sputtering and seemingly unable to form words, Dame Violet fluttered her hands at them and turned away, suddenly vastly interested in her husband’s conversation about stocks.
Gabriel offered Jessie his arm, tucking her hand around it when she took it and guiding her down the front steps. A valet waited with his Aston Martin and Gabriel guided Jessie into the passenger seat before sliding into the driver’s seat himself, and then they were off, leaving the disastrous evening behind them.
Chapter 9
The night was quiet as Jessie sat in the car with Gabriel, the only sound the purr of the engine as Gabriel maneuvered the car expertly along the winding roads. She was painfully aware of his presence in the car beside her, aware of him mentally and physically, but it somehow seemed wrong for her to break the silence that had fallen around them. She waited for him to speak.
Gabriel sighed. “What happened, between you and him?”
Jessie didn’t have to ask who he meant. The encounter with Edward had been sitting heavily between them during the drive. Jessie didn’t know how to put into words what had transpired between her and her ex-fiancé, but she realized she owed Gabriel an explanation, especially because he’d rescued her from what had the potential to be a truly ugly scene.
Jessie swallowed heavily. “He and I were engaged before my brother died. I thought I saw a way out of my problems. I was wrong.”
Gabriel was quiet a moment. “Jessamy, you know that’s not what I meant. Please don’t expect me to repeat myself.” His words had hardened, his tone becoming deeper and more commanding. Jessie found she was powerless to resist the demand implicit in his voice.
“Honestly, Gabriel, it was ugly. We were six months shy of the wedding, invitations sent out, cake and flowers ordered. I did something to offend Edward, and he decided it would be better for everyone if we didn’t move ahead with the wedding.”
“What the hell did you do to offend him so badly?” Gabriel’s tone was incredulous. “Don’t misunderstand me, I think he’s the most boring, pompous ass I’ve ever met and I’m delighted you didn’t marry him. But honestly”—Gabriel took his eyes away from the road to glance at Jessie, his dark eyes serious—“what could you have done to offend him so badly he’d call off a wedding?”
Jessie felt herself flush and hoped the darkness concealed it from Gabriel. “I’d really prefer not discussing it.”
Gabriel was silent a moment, his voice perfectly even when he finally spoke. “I’ll let this go for now. But be warned, Lady Jessamy, that in future I will expect my questions to be answered.”
Jessamy stared at him in surprise. She didn’t know why he’d taken such an interest in her history with Edward, but his demands to know everything about her had been familiar to her for some time. He was always so damn bossy!
“Thank you, Gabriel. And thank you for your help tonight. You really made things so much more bearable than they would have been if you hadn’t been there.” Jessie was sincere in her thanks, and she was happy to see the flush of pleasure that colored Gabriel’s face and ears. Something inside her melted knowing she’d been responsible for making him happy.
The moment was short-lived, however, as Jessie glanced around and realized that none of her surroundings were familiar. They’d been speeding through the night for some time now and she’d expected to be home by this point.
“Um, Gabriel? Where are we going?”
Gabriel laughed softly. “I figured after tonight you could use a drink. I know I sure as hell could. It took everything I had not to rearrange that little prick’s pointy face, and I was pretty close to calling Dame Violet a bitch.”
“Really?” Jessie reached over and squeezed Gabriel’s hand where it sat on his lap. “We could go back, if you like!” She smiled winningly at him. “I’m sure they’d both be delighted to see you again.”
Gabriel laughed out loud. “No, thank you. I’d rather go home and go for a swim in a nice single malt. Or, you know, die a slow death of being eaten alive by gerbils.”
Jessie laughed with him. “You’re right. I can think of a million places I’d rather be.”
Gabriel looked sideways at her. “I’m hoping one of them is Hartley House, because that’s where we’re going.”
Jessie smiled up at him. “I’d love to visit before going home. You can show me where my pianoforte’s going to go.” She kept her tone light and teasing, although she figured Gabriel knew she was a little serious.
He smiled broadly at her. “Now that is a secret. You’ll have to wait and see.”
By this time they’d arrived at Gabriel’s imposing estate, and he parked the car and opened Jessie’s door, offering her his hand as she got out. To Jessie’s surprise—and her delight, if she was being honest—he didn’t let go of her hand and kept it tucked firmly in his oversized grip as he led her to the door.
* * * *
Gabriel breathed a sigh of relief as he held Jessie’s hand, realizing she wasn’t going to pull away from him. Tonight’s events had been ridiculous, but Gabriel wasn’t about to complain since the evening had ended with Lady Jessamy’s hand in his as he led her into his house. He knew sh
e was vulnerable after being treated so poorly at the party and he wasn’t about to attempt a seduction tonight, but he figured he could at least begin to pave the way.
He surreptitiously adjusted the front of his trousers since his cock was poking at the front of them again. It had been doing that all night since he’d first seen Jessamy wearing that sleek gown, and he’d practically drooled when he’d caught a glimpse of the fuck-me heels she was wearing. That combined with his knowledge of her secret penchant for naughty underthings had nearly been his undoing, and it had taken all of his formidable control not to bend her over the hood of his car and thrust balls deep into her sweet cunt right there. Only his endgame kept him in check, and he reminded himself of it as he led Lady Jessamy into his library.
* * * *
Jessamy felt the loss of Gabriel’s touch as he let go of her hand, walking to a small table at the side of the room and pouring a stiff drink for each of them. He tossed his back and poured himself another, then moved to where she was standing and offered her the heavy crystal glass.
“A toast,” he said, smiling, “to surviving the evening.”
“I’ll drink to that.” Jessamy clinked her class against his, then sipped the amber liquid. It slid down easily, leaving a smooth, smoky trail down her throat.
Gabriel threw himself into an oversized leather chair, the patina of the leather an indication that the piece of furniture saw a lot of use. He gestured for Jessie to seat herself, then took another long swallow of his scotch.
Jessie sank down into a luxuriously padded sofa, the match to the chair Gabriel occupied. She sighed as the buttery leather caressed her skin, and she wondered if Gabriel would think she was trashy if she took her shoes off and tucked her feet up underneath her.
Jessie's Jewels [Submissive Sirens 2] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5
