“What do you want now? Why are you staring at me?” she snapped self-consciously.
“I’m just trying to figure you out.”
“Pray, what is there to figure out?”
“Your actions. Sometimes I can predict what you are going to do and say next, but then other times you take me totally unaware.”
“I’m sorry if I confuse you. I didn’t plan to misconstrue your mind.”
He shook his head. “There you go again, talking all educated. Especially for poor relations.” Leaning over, he propped himself up on his elbow and continued. “Sometimes I feel that things are uncomplicated between us because of the way we get along so well, almost like one friend to another. Then you turn completely around and start acting like a well-bred woman, which makes me feel differently about you.”
He was too close, and feeling his warm breath against her face turned her insides to mush. His eyes were the dark brown she loved gazing into, and at this moment, she never wanted to look away. He appeared so relaxed as he met her stare. His expression was so very tender, and she melted the longer she gazed at him. “How do you feel when I’m acting like a woman?”
A lazy grin touched his mouth. “I feel the same way I did that first night, after we had met.”
Her heart hammered quicker. “That night when...when...you kissed me?”
His eyes slowly traced her face, coming to rest on her lips. “Yes.”
She swallowed hard. “Why would you feel like that about me?”
He grinned. “Because sometimes you can be so desirable, and all I want to do is take you in my arms and kiss you.”
Tightness consumed her chest, making it hard to breathe, yet her chest rose and fell so quickly, testifying that she was breathing just fine. She didn’t know what to say. Maybe she didn’t want to say anything. His attention moved over her face and came to rest on her mouth. Perhaps she should let him kiss her. Yet her mind argued that they were on a bed and the situation was very improper! The longer she studied his lips, so full and inviting, she could actually feel herself being lured into temptation, and right now, she almost didn’t care if they were in their nightclothes and on a bed.
“You...would not...dare,” she whispered, then wondered why she’d said that. Was she purposely trying to goad him into doing it?
Chapter Eight
Gabe’s grin widened and his eyes sparkled. “I wouldn’t dare?” He moved his head closer to hers as he took a lock of her hair and caressed it. “Are you certain of that?”
Emmie sank in the bed, the back of her head slowly burying in the pillow, but his face continued closing in. Did she really want him to kiss her? Heaven help her, yes she did!
She closed her eyes just as his mouth touched hers. His lips were so soft this time, and she wasn’t prepared for the jolt of passion shooting through her. She wasn’t going to fight him, especially when his upper body moved and lay across hers, pinning her down.
Cupping his hand around her head, he brought her face closer as he continued with the mind-boggling kiss. Pleasure cascaded all around her. No man had ever kissed her without her feeling revolted by his presence. Not this time. Gabe was completely different.
She relaxed and released the blanket she’d been clutching, sliding her hands up his broad shoulders to his neck. She stroked his rippling muscles, and marveled again over how well he was put together. He was such a strong man, yet lying on top of her he was so very gentle, and she wasn’t frightened in the least.
“Oh, Emmie,” he mumbled against her lips. “You are so adorable.”
She held onto him as she met his urgent kisses, loving the heady sensations building inside her. So exhilarating, so pleasurable, she didn’t want to stop. Ever.
But she had to. This was improper, and she shouldn’t even be with him on the bed. They were wearing their nightclothes, for heaven’s sake! Her father would certainly have Gabe’s head on a platter for this one…and probably her head as well. Before she could pull away, there was a knock at the door.
“I brought your meal up.”
Georgia! How could Emmie have forgotten about her?
She and Gabe pulled away at the same time, staring at each other in silent communication. His hot breath fanned her face, and she knew her heavy breathing matched his perfectly. He gave her a sly smile then quickly moved off her and slid underneath the covers.
“You can come in, Georgia,” he called out.
Emmie hoped she didn’t look as ravished and confused as she felt. Hopefully, Georgia would not mention it if she noticed.
The older woman brought in a tray of food and took it right over to the bed, setting it down on top of the quit. An assortment of meats and cheeses and even some fruits and bread had been placed on the tray.
“This looks wonderful,” Gabe praised. “God certainly blessed us by leading us to your doorstep.”
Georgia’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m the one who is blessed. Do you know how long it has been since I have had any real company? My children and their families do not visit me enough, and I rarely get out and visit with my neighbors. My body is just not what they used to be.” She patted her hips gently.
“Then we are happy that you are happy,” he told her.
Georgia turned her gaze to Emmie in a slow inspection. She prayed the older woman couldn’t see the passion still lurking inside her. Slowly, she pulled up the blankets higher to her neck.
“Where are you two from?” Georgia asked, aiming her question at Gabe.
“Manchester,” he answered quickly.
Emmie glanced his way, wondering why he gave her the wrong answer.
Georgia shook her head. “I have never been there. What did you say your last name was? You look very familiar to me.”
Gabe stiffened. “Lawrence.”
Her silvery-brown eyebrows drew together in confusion. “I fear I do not recall knowing anybody with that last name.”
Gabe’s body relaxed, and he kept his expression blank. “My family is not from around these parts.”
Georgia turned and looked at Emmie. “And what about you, my dear? What was your maiden name?”
Emmie pulled herself up slightly. Oh good grief! Now she had to think of another lie. “Um…Snow.” Well, that wasn’t exactly a lie since her mother’s maiden name had been Snow.
Georgia’s old brown eyes opened in surprise. “Snow, you say?” Emmie nodded. “Who are your parents, child?”
Quickly, Emmie thought before answering. She had told Gabe that her father was a farmer and her mother was dead. As long as she stuck with that story, she’d be fine. “My mother is dead, but her name was Camilla, and my father’s name is Abner.” So that wasn’t altogether a lie, either since that was her father’s middle name.
Georgia’s face fell into a frown. “Oh, I don’t know them. It’s rather strange, because I have the same last name as you.”
Emmie’s heart pounded faster now as she studied the older woman. This woman’s last name was Snow? She sat up straighter. “Indeed? That is rather strange, is it not?”
“Yes, and what’s even stranger is that you resemble my daughter Daphne quite a bit. She too, has large brown eyes like yourself, except her hair was a lighter brown.”
Daphne? Emiline caught her breath and held it. This could not be! Her mother’s name had been Daphne!
Emmie studied the older woman’s face—oval, like her mother’s had been—with dark brown eyes just like her mother. They even twinkled like her mother’s. Could she actually be in the same room talking to her maternal grandmother? In a way, the older woman resembled the miniature Emmie had of her own mother. All of this was too surreal for her, and she tried her hardest to keep her eyes from watering with happiness.
Georgia chuckled. “Now Daphne’s hair is almost gray because of her age, but it used to be your color.”
Emmie forgot about the blankets she clutched to her chest as numbness spread through her, and the covering slipped to her lap. Her beat of he
r heart stopped. If the Daphne they were discussing was indeed the same lady, that meant… But no. It couldn’t be. Emmie’s mother had been dead fifteen years.
“You know, I believe I have a miniature of her,” Georgia continued. “Let me go retrieve it and show you. The resemblance between the two of you is quite remarkable.” She turned and hurried out of the room.
Once Georgia had disappeared, Gabe moved the tray of food aside and wrapped his arms around Emmie. “Georgia is a sweet lady, but I wish she would leave so that we could get back to what we were doing before she came.”
He kissed Emmie’s neck, and she automatically stiffened. He withdrew, his brows pulled together in worry. Cupping her face, he turned it toward his.
“Emmie? What’s wrong?”
She couldn’t tell him. Not since she had lied to him about her identity all this time. But she had to say something. She was almost certain he would understand. But no, she would keep her little secret.
“I...um, I suppose I’m just hungry.” She took a piece of cheese off the tray and brought it up to her mouth. She nibbled but didn’t taste a thing.
“Are you certain that’s all? You have lost all the color in your face.”
She tried to calm herself, inwardly forcing herself to breathe normally, although it wasn’t working as well as she hoped. Turning toward him, she managed a small smile. “Yes. That is all it is. I assure you, I’m fine.”
His worried eyes studied her, and she knew he didn’t believe her. When his gaze rested on her lips again, his expression softened. His hand moved to cup her face, and his thumb moved gently across her bottom lip.
“Do you know how much I still want to kiss you?” he whispered huskily.
This wasn’t the time. She too, wanted to be kissed, but she had too much on her mind right now. Her mother may still be alive. If she was, what would her reason be for falsifying her death and coming back to live in the colonies instead of with her own husband and daughter who had needed her so desperately?
“But Gabe, it’s really not proper. We should not even be sitting on the same bed,” she answered softly.
He wagged his eyebrows. “But since we are here, we ought to make the best of it.”
Georgia chose that moment to come back, so once again, Gabe and Emmie pulled away from each other.
“Here it is.” Georgia handed the miniature to Emmie, who took it with a shaky hand.
Glancing down at the picture, she tried to keep herself from crying. The lady she stared at was indeed her mother, except an older version. Her father had kept a picture of her in his bedroom, which helped Emmie to remember. This was the same woman.
She forced herself to breathe normally again. “I—I—would like to meet her one day,” her voice squeaked.
“Yes. I’m sure I could arrange that. Daphne is living near the border of Salem, Massachusetts now. She’s the companion to a wealthy widow, Mrs. Estelle Winterbourne.”
Emmie’s eyes rose and met her grandmother’s. “Is your daughter...married?”
The old woman’s face fell in sadness. “Not any longer. She was married once with a child, but the ship that carried her husband and daughter was attacked by pirates, killing all on board.”
What? Emmie’s heart stumbled in rhythm as her mind came to a screeching halt. This couldn’t be right. Georgia had just explained the same way Emmie was told Daphne had died. What was going on here?
“I suppose I should let the two of you get some rest,” Georgia said, taking back the miniature portrait. “Sleep well young ones and I will visit some more with you in the morning.” Georgia left the room, shutting the door behind her.
Emmie remained silent as she thought over everything Georgia had told her. This was so much to take in. This was her mother, for heaven’s sake, and her mother was still alive!
* * * *
Something was wrong! Gabe had been studying Emmie since the older woman handed her the picture. Being hungry had nothing to do with what ailed her now.
“All right, my darling Emmie. Are you going to tell me what is amiss now?”
She turned and met his gaze. “What do you mean?” Her voice shook.
Gabe gave her a sympathetic look, then reached up with his thumb and wiped her tears falling down her face. “You are crying, my dear. Tell me what ails you. I’ll not relent until you do, and you know how stubborn I can be.”
Her mouth cracked a smile, which made him smile. She was so pretty, even crying.
Biting her bottom lip, she looked hesitant to speak, but finally she took a deep breath. “The picture Georgia just showed us is a picture of my mother.”
Confusion filled him and he creased his forehead. “But I thought you said your mother was dead.”
Emmie shrugged. “I don’t understand any of this.” She sniffed and wiped the tears still streaking down her face. “For fifteen years, I have believed my mother was dead. Yet, Daphne is my mother. That miniature is my mother—but older.” She shook her head. “Nothing makes sense to me.”
He clutched her hands. “Then we must bring Georgia back and have her explain.”
Emmie tightened her hands on Gabe’s fingers. “No. Not yet. There is much I need to straighten out in my mind first.”
“But, Emmie—”
“Gabe, please. Trust me on this.”
Uncomfortable silence stretched between them as Gabe’s mind scrambled to sort this story out. Emmie’s actions were not making sense. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles, enjoying the closeness they shared—almost as much as he relished in holding and kissing her.
“Emmie, are you embarrassed that your mother will disapprove of your station in life?”
One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted. “My station in life?”
“Yes. Because you are a lady’s companion and your father is poor.”
Uncertainty flickered in her brown orbs before she shook her head. “That’s not all of it, Gabe. Please do not ask. I’m not ready to tell you.”
Gabe leaned against his pillow, folding his arms across his chest. “You will feel better if you talk about it.”
“Soon I will.” She touched his arm. “Just not right now.”
“Oh, my sweet Emmie.” He took her in his arms and gently rocked her, while caressing her back tenderly. “My heart is breaking because I don’t know how to help you.” He rubbed his lips across her forehead.
“Holding me is helping.”
“Then I shall hold you all night if that is what you wish.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her face against his chest, as sobs wracked her small body. Snuggling them down into the bed, he held and comforted her, all the while cursing the uncontrollable urge to become intimate with her. They were definitely closer now than they were before, and he had always been a ladies’ man…
He inwardly groaned. Now was certainly not the time to act like a love-sick boy. She needed his comfort right now no matter how badly he longed to kiss her. Unfortunately, holding her like this would be his downfall.
Indeed, tonight would be torture.
* * * *
Emmie pulled herself from a deep slumber. It took a lot of strength just to peel her eyes open. Exhaustion had taken its toll on her last night, and she felt as if she’d been running for three days straight. Her eyelids were heavy, and her head throbbed, yet at the same time, exhilaration blossomed in her chest. Her mother wasn’t dead after all, and the thought of finding her lifted Emmie’s spirits. Finally, they could be a family again! Perhaps then her father would cease this inane idea of bringing mayhem to the colonies alongside his brother.
Awareness surrounded her, and she realized she wasn’t in the bed she occupied while staying at the Hampton’s house. As her mind started working properly, she recalled being in Gabe’s arms and kissing him. He’d held her so tenderly last night, and just the thought made her sigh with happiness.
She turned her head to look at him, but he wasn’t on the bed. Propped agai
nst a cushioned chair, Gabe slumbered on the floor with a blanket over him near the fireplace. He looked so handsome lying there in an awkward position, and her heart melted to think he’d chosen to stay on the floor. Even though he didn’t act like it at times, he really was a gentleman. It pleased her to know he wasn’t going to take advantage of her situation and try to seduce her.
He’d been so gentle with her last night—so caring. It would be hard for her not to let her heart get involved. But she must stop this insanity now. Loving this man would come to no good. It didn’t matter if kissing him felt so right, loving him would be so wrong.
Wonderland By Night (Heroic Rogues Series) Page 12
