“Wherein love is mentioned.”

Gabriel watched as Crecy walked into his room, and tried to tamp down on the unruly emotions surging through him. At every moment since she had arrived, he had waited for her to change her mind, to tell him that if he wanted her they must be married or that he must give her whatever financial amount she had decided she was worth for a carte blanche.

Loathing hit him like a wave as she stepped into the room, putting herself totally into his care. How could he have believed it of her? Yet it was too extraordinary. What in the name of God did she see in him? Why was she here? As if she’d heard the thoughts in his head, she glanced around, then, the look in her eyes so loving and full of trust that his breath caught. It was impossible. Ridiculous and impossible. Yet the spark of hope that she had lit within him flamed, a rush of warmth beneath his skin, the like of which he had never before known.

She moved towards the bed, one hand trailing around the heavily carved wood of one of the four posts.

“I don’t see any books?” she said, a teasing tone to her voice that made him want to give in to a smile.

He looked away, for some reason unwilling to let her know that she made him want to smile. For if she knew that, she might realise how tightly he was caught up in the spell she had cast over him. She might know that losing her had become something he feared more than any other sensation of dread that he had ever known, even as its inevitability loomed over him, stealing his breath.

He moved to a large glass-fronted cabinet, which was lined with red silk to protect the books inside from the daylight. Gabriel unlocked it and opened the doors, which swung back to show some of his collection. In fact, there were many more, but his favourites resided here, along with those that were shocking enough that he preferred the staff didn’t stumble across them by accident.

He didn’t turn, but knew that Crecy had come to stand beside him.

“Did you think I’d lied to get you up here?” he asked, immediately regretting the accusation behind the words. He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive; it was simply a hard habit to break.

“Of course not.” Her voice was soothing, smoothing down any anxieties as she laid her hand on his arm. “I don’t really want to see the books, anyway, Gabriel.” Her admission was quiet, her voice trembling a little, and any suspicions or cynicism that remained melted away as he realised that she was dreadfully nervous.

He frowned, turning a little to look down at her, but finding he could not meet her eyes. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked, hardly daring to hear the answer, but holding himself very still. He forced himself to look her in the eyes, and the smile that dawned over her face made his breath catch.

“Don’t be silly,” she said, and once again the realisation that she trusted him hit him hard and fast. It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was a bloody fool, that it wasn’t worth it, he wasn’t worth it. But he was a miserable, selfish bastard, and he wanted her so badly that he wasn’t altogether sure he wasn’t trembling with nerves, too.

He reached out a hand, touching her cheek.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said, cursing himself as the words sounded harsh and impatient rather than reassuring. But nonetheless, she stepped closer to him.

“I know that.”

Gabriel swallowed, panic sliding over him as he realised he didn’t know what the hell to do now. His body was well aware what came next and was clamouring that he bloody well get on with it, but this was different. For starters, he’d never been with an innocent before. The women he favoured knew well what they were about and what they’d get if they dallied with him. He was neither tender nor kind. Exchanges were harsh and crude, as fast as he could manage, and totally impersonal. He didn’t want names, didn’t want to know anything about them, and he certainly didn’t hang around after the act itself was done. The idea of cuddling some woman after sex had always appalled him. He’d never cuddled anyone in his life, for the love of God. He was simply not the kind of man young women fell in love with, dammit.

But this was Crecy, and she trusted him.

Before he could give himself a stern talking-to and demand he get a grip, you damn fool, Crecy had taken his hand and was leading him to the bed.

Gabriel dug his heels in. This was the outside of enough. He was not going to be seduced by a virgin. His ego was fragile enough without adding that to his list of failures. He could hear his father’s mocking laughter and forced it away with an effort. No. Not here. This is mine.

“Gabriel?” Crecy’s voice was quiet and unsure of itself, and he hated to hear it so. Crecy was nothing but vibrancy and determination and everything good in life.

“Sorry,” he said, the word sounding awkward and rusty on his lips. “I …” He let out a breath with the slightest huff of laughter. “This is …”

“You don’t normally bed virgins,” she said, cutting to the heart of thing as she so often did.

He looked down at her and saw the trepidation in her eyes, the fear that he didn’t desire her in this way, and wanted to cut his own heart out for putting that doubt there.

“No,” he said, trying to keep his voice softer. He tugged at her hand and she moved back to him. “I don’t know how to be what you want me to be.” The admission was honest, at least, he owed her that much. “But if you are thinking that I don’t want you …” He put his free hand to her waist, pulling her close, pressing her body hard against his so that his arousal was blatantly obvious to her. She looked up, eyes dark with wanting, and he captured her mouth, his arms holding her tight, too tight, probably, he realised. He eased his grip a little, pulling back as Crecy clutched at his shoulders.

“You are exactly what I want you to be, Gabriel,” she said, her voice fierce now, any trace of anxiety or timidity suddenly vanishing. “Don’t, I beg you, try to be anything else.”

He took her at her word, too desperate to taste her again to hold back, in any case. By the time he felt able to let her go, she was flushed and breathing hard. The lush swell of her breasts pushed against the confinement of her clothes, and he could not wait any longer. He needed her naked and in his bed, and he needed it right now.

Gabriel put his hands on her shoulders, turning her around so that the ties to her dress were before him. He tugged each one in turn, trying not to rush, not to be impatient, but finding himself cursing under his breath as one caught in a knot. He was all fingers and thumbs, and by the time the dress slithered to the ground, he was breathless with impatience and desire. A strange and not altogether welcome surge of possessiveness swept over him, shocking him rather as she withdrew the lock of his hair from under her bodice and gave it to him to put to one side. The rest of her underclothes were summarily disposed of, no seductive unveiling here, he thought with a grimace, and then he looked at the prize he’d finally managed to unwrap.

Crecy turned back to him, eyes downcast, shivering a little, her arms clutched around herself.

Gabriel caught his breath, feeling himself at one and the same time to be the worst kind of monster and the luckiest man on the planet. He wanted to tell her that. He wanted to explain that he had never seen anything so beautiful as her, that he was humbled, honoured, that he would kneel at her feet if she demanded it, but no words came.

Instead, he reached out a hand, tracing a finger along the soft curve of her cheek as she looked up at him.

“Come here.” His voice was rough and scratchy, so taut with desire it was a wonder he’d managed to say that much, and when she did as he’d asked, any possibility of saying more vanished.

He kissed her, his hands sliding over skin, finer than any silk, warm and soft and giving and … his. It was easier than he’d imagined after all, to treat her with reverence. He wouldn’t hurt her, it was impossible, he could not. His lips brushed over hers, toying a little with her tongue, the movements soft, delicate, as he held back his own desire with a will of iron. How strange, he thought, for he’d never enjoyed kissing before, and avoided it. It had always seemed an unpleasant intimacy, too messy and unrewarding, but no longer. Her mouth was so sweet, so welcoming, and the soft sounds she made as his hands explored and stroked were enough to set him alight.

Gabriel drew back, knowing even his encompassing need for control could not hold back his own desire for much longer. He led her to the bed, taking a moment to strip the covers back before kissing her once more.

“Lay down,” he said, the words breathed against her mouth. This time, at least, the words had been gentle. She did as he asked, lying down on the white cotton as Gabriel shrugged out of his jacket. Usually, everything had to be carefully put away, folded or hung up, but his desire outweighed his need for order in this moment, and he contented himself with hanging his jacket on the back of a chair and throwing each remaining item on top of it.

His mouth grew dry as Crecy sat up, watching him with obvious interest as he undressed. To his surprise, and as something of a boost to his masculine pride, her eyes grew wide and round as a slow smile curved over her lush mouth.

“Oh, my,” she said, looking him over with such obvious desire that Gabriel wondered how the hell he was going to last long enough to make her first time painless. He wasn’t sure he could wait. He wanted only to find his place inside her and claim her as his own, with no provision for tenderness or patience. He needed and he wanted like he’d never known before, had never come close to, and he didn’t think he could hold that back.

Yet as he lay down beside her and was welcomed into her arms, with no hesitation, no reserve or false blushes, he was aware that he still wanted to be tender.

Crecy reached out, touching a tentative hand to his chest. Her fingers trailed through the coarse dark hair, and then she surprised him by pressing her face against his chest, kissing him and rubbing her head against him like a cat. He grinned, the unfamiliar upwards kick of his mouth feeling less strange than usual. Much more of this, and he might even become used to it.

“Gabriel,” she said, the smile behind his name almost visible even before she looked up at him. “You’re so …”

Gabriel quirked one eyebrow, waiting for what on earth the dreadful creature would say next.

“Big.”

A guffaw of laughter caught him unawares, as her wide eyes made him laugh until his shoulders shook.

Crecy flushed, though her eyes sparkled with amusement. “I didn’t mean there,” she scolded him, her voice tart. “I meant …” She waved her hand to encompass the whole package as Gabriel struggled to rearrange his face. “Everywhere else.”

“Oh?” he said, hearing the teasing tone to his own voice and not recognising it at all. “Is that part of the package not up to expectations, then?” he demanded as her cheeks went a quite remarkable shade of scarlet.

“Now, you’re just being crude,” she said, pursing her lips and looking a little indignant.

“Yes,” he murmured, catching hold of her hand. “I am, and I will be. Do you mind?”

“Of course not,” she replied without hesitation, mischief glittering in her eyes.

Gabriel stared, a strange feeling growing and expanding in his chest as he gazed at her. “Just as well,” he said with a smirk as he guided her hand to the part of him that was most desperate for her attention. His breath caught as her fingers wrapped around him and he guided her as to how to touch him.

“Certainly meeting expectations so far,” she murmured, eyes wider still, and Gabriel found himself smiling against her skin. He’d never done this before, never enjoyed a woman’s company for any other reason than the obvious, and it was new and strange, and he didn’t know quite what to expect of her next. He kissed her, deciding that he was safer if he kept her quiet, preferably speechless, as right now his heart felt unguarded and most definitely at risk. He took her hand from his flesh, interrupting her intimate caresses with regret, but it was too distracting, in any case. It made him want to seek his own pleasure instead of seeing to hers, and he was damned if she’d leave his bed with the ability to walk a straight line, let alone string a coherent sentence together.

He kissed a trail down her neck, wondering at her boldness as she tilted her head back, her hands tangling in his hair as he nuzzled the soft valley between her breasts. One hand continued down, smoothing over the soft curves of her waist and hip, caressing her thigh as his mouth captured one delicate, pebbled nipple. Her husky cry sent a jolt of desire through him, his body taut and aching with need as she arched beneath him.

Gabriel dared a glance up, catching her eyes and seeing such emotion there that he was forced to look away. He couldn’t believe in that look, it was too … It was impossible. Wasn’t it?

He returned his attention to the physical; that, at least, he could manage. Though somehow, the physical and emotional had become tangled up and were impossible to keep apart. The harder he tried to hold something of himself back and concentrate on ringing those soft, feminine cries from her lips, the harder it became not to realise that he worshipped this strange, wonderful, extraordinary woman.

Sliding one hand between her thighs as he caressed her, he remembered the first time he had done this, with far too much clothing between them. Not a problem now, though, as he slid one finger inside her, hearing her gasp of shock and wondering if he’d gone too fast. Crecy was always ahead of him, though, and merely opened herself to him further as he spiralled out of control.

Urging her legs further apart, he took his place there, he couldn’t do this, couldn’t wait any longer. He wondered then if she would hate him for it, for not taking more care, and began to move away again, but she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him towards her.

“Yes, yes, please, Gabriel. I want you … like this.”

He stared down at her, seeing his own need reflected in hers and wondering at it, but she urged him on, gasping with pleasure as he nudged inside of her.

Her murmured words came faster and less comprehensible as he sank deeper, feeling her hands grasping at his shoulders, holding onto him. He tried to slow, aware that he was about to hurt her, after promising he wouldn’t. Even though every instinct demanded that he sink into her now, this minute, he held himself back, easing into her with care.

“It’s all right,” she said, stroking his back, and he looked down, startled to be the one receiving assurances. “Don’t stop, Gabriel,” she begged. “I want you.”

There was simply no way of denying her, even as her words slid under his skin and he realised just what danger he was in. As he sank into her, soothing her past the sharp intake of breath as he took her innocence, he was welcomed into her warmth. She gave him everything she had with no demands, no ultimatums, and he realised that there would never be another like this. There would never be anyone who made him feel this way, who accepted him and made him feel … whole. He gasped, desire and emotion overwhelming him. Somewhere in the distance, fear was lurking in the darkness, waiting for him, but this was too bright, too dazzling to pay any heed, not now.

For the first time in his life, he felt someone cared for him, cared enough to take a chance, to risk everything. It stole his breath and made his chest hurt, making him more attentive in his loving, wanting to give her everything he could in return for her trust in him. Crecy tugged at his neck, pulling his head down, demanding he kiss her even as her breathing became harsh, her body growing taut.

Words crowded his brain, words that she deserved to hear, but he was too afraid to voice them, and then it was too late. She cried out, her body tightening around him, and Gabriel could think of nothing, consider nothing past his own pleasure, crashing over him like a wave as he shook with the force of it. A harsh, guttural cry ripped from his throat, too late to consider that the servants might have heard them as his body convulsed, spilling himself inside of her.

He collapsed, aware that he was likely crushing her, but was utterly boneless, too sated and exhausted to move an inch. Little by little, however, his breathing steadied, and the first rush of recrimination hit him. Loathing began to wash over him, a filthy tide determined to destroy any pleasure he might have found, and then … Crecy began to laugh.

From somewhere, he found strength enough to prop himself up on his elbows and look down at her, torn between astonishment and indignation.

“What the devil are you laughing at?” he demanded, sounding terse and not in the least lover-like.

Crecy bit her lip, apparently trying to hold her mirth back, but it bubbled over and she chortled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Well?” he pressed, starting to feel anxiety crawl up his neck.

“Oh, oh,” she gasped, shaking her head as tears rolled down her cheeks. “I … I don’t know, only …”

“Only?”

She hauled in a breath, apparently gaining some control and smiling at him with such joy that he felt like his emotions had been turned inside out and upside down in the space of the last few seconds.

“Only, I was so nervous, and it was so …so … wonderful,” she said, reaching up and touching his face with a sigh. “Oh, Gabriel, I do love you.”

Gabriel froze.

He didn’t know what to do, to say … to …

Crecy’s face fell.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, making him feel like a real bastard now for chasing the happiness from her eyes. “I … I didn’t mean to say that, not yet … not … I know you don’t want to hear it yet,” she added, sounding so contrite that he wanted to rage about it, but he didn’t know why. He didn’t know if he was angry with her or not. Was he angry because she’d said it, or angry because he didn’t believe it, couldn’t believe it. Which meant she was lying, which …

“Gabriel.”

“Gabriel!”

He looked down, startled by sharp the tone of her voice.

“Stop thinking, Gabriel.”

She tugged at his neck, pulling him back for a kiss, and for once, Gabriel did as he was told.