Chapter Twelve
Gabriel awoke fully alert, a habit from his espionage days. Being groggy could get you killed, and that was no way to start the morning. Lying in the guest bedchamber, the dawn’s light seeping in through a crack in the velvet drapes, he was acutely aware of two facts.
First, he’d brought Thea to climax in the carriage last night, and it had been the hottest, most seductive experience of his life. Her passion had rocked him to the core. She hadn’t been afraid or repulsed by his lovemaking. She was a lady, an innocent, yet she’d wanted him—hell, she’d begged him to give her release. The wanton beauty of her orgasm had stunned him; if they hadn’t arrived back at the Strathaven residence, he’d have dearly loved to give her another.
He stared up at the plaster cherubs frolicking along the edge of the ceiling, his heart thudding. Possibility flared inside him. Could she accept his carnal desires?
I want to experience it all with you.
True, her words had been that of an innocent: she had no idea what “all” with him would entail. Yet her openness roused his deepest fantasy, one he’d long ago forsaken. Wanting something that didn’t exist was futile, but his old, dangerous desire took root nonetheless: what would it be like to possess a lady entirely? To have her surrender to him, to give him all of her trust, to belong to him and only him?
The prospect fluttered at the edges of his consciousness, as tantalizing as a dream. A hidden floodgate opened inside him, releasing so many needs, of such intensity, that he couldn’t register them all. Raw wanting raged through him.
His pulse hammering, he reached below the sheet. He stifled a groan as his hand closed around the stiff, aching ridge of his cock. During the years of his marriage, he’d gotten accustomed to self-pleasure. For better or worse, frigging had become a necessary habit.
But he didn’t want to think about the past. He wanted to focus on the future, the fantasy awakening inside him. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to imagine all the things he wanted to do with Thea. The wicked pleasures he wanted to introduce her to, the limits of her passion he wanted to test… and control.
In his mind, he returned to the darkness of the carriage, to her lovely nude body spread for him on the velvet cushions. This time he saw her hands bound by the passenger strap, her wrists secured by black leather as he fingered her. His breath quickening, he fisted his erection, mimicking the tight, shy clasp of her pussy, the way it had milked him so lushly. By God, she’d been magnificent in her throes. He pictured himself clamping his hands on her downy thighs, spreading them wide as her climax trembled through her.
Lowering his head, he put his mouth on her. Her essence flooded his senses like ambrosia, and he hungrily feasted. To the music of her pleading whimpers, he licked her creamy slit, delving deep, groaning as her fluttering muscles pulled him in deeper. He fucked her with his tongue, and she let him have her this way—in any way he pleased. His cock spurted; he fisted himself harder as he licked upward to her pearl, flicking it.
When he suckled the proud little bud, she cried out again, her thighs tautening around his head. Her crisis set fire to his blood, and the next instant, he mounted her, notching his prick to her wet gash. He drove forward, pleasure rippling down his spine as her passage received him. Her eyes held him as wholly as her untried flesh, hazel pools glimmering with trust. With pure surrender.
Undone by her, he let the animal in him go free. He rammed into the heart of her, into her wet, giving welcome. Her moans accompanied the ferocious smack of his bollocks against her dewy petals. She took him to the balls, and it still wasn’t enough, he needed to be deeper yet. Hoisting her ankles over his shoulders, he slammed his hips home. Again and again and again.
Straining against her bonds, she arched to take everything he had to give her. Her breasts bounced with his thrusts, the coral tips erect and proud. She cried out as her sheath began to convulse around his invading shaft. He drove himself home, hitting the end of her with a groan. Her lushness milked him, and his stones burgeoned, his seed climbing. Plunging into her cream-filled cunny one last time, he exploded in a haze of bliss.
Panting, Gabriel lay against the pillows, the bedclothes damp, his heart drumming. As he slowly came down from the release, he felt calmer, his head clearing. The desire between him and Thea last night had been real. True, he hadn’t exposed the depth of his proclivities, the extent of his need for sexual domination, but her response thus far had been promising. Was it possible that she could accept him sexually?
Anticipation wound inside him. His sense of honor dictated that he make her a proposal, but he wouldn’t go into it blind like the last time. That route led only to misery for both parties. This time, he would learn from his mistakes. He would tell Thea his expectations in full, outline the kind of marriage he had to offer.
Perhaps she wouldn’t fall into a dead faint or run screaming from the room. A man could dream. And perhaps, just perhaps, she would want to take him on.
He released a breath. Before he took things any further with her, he had to put his past to rest. He wouldn’t let the threat of the Spectre touch her. Six days from now, he’d ambush the villain and Pompeia at their meeting in Covent Garden. He’d put an end to that dirty business and secure the safety of those he cared about. Then, and only then, could he get on with his future.
Hope flickered, illuminating a future that might include Thea.
***
The skirts of Thea’s sprigged muslin swished as she hurried down the steps. It wasn’t ladylike to rush, yet she couldn’t help herself. She’d slept in far later than usual; if her maid hadn’t come in with a breakfast tray, she might have slept until noon. As it was, she couldn’t wait to see Gabriel. Her pulse beat a rapid tattoo at the memory of all they’d shared last night.
He wanted her. He thought she was perfection.
He was the perfect one, she thought dreamily. Warmth coalesced low in her belly, her intimate muscles fluttering. In his arms, she’d finally experienced the all-consuming passion she’d yearned for. He’d treated her like a flesh and blood woman, and she’d reveled in his deliciously masterful lovemaking.
On the ground floor, she followed the hum of conversation past the library to the billiards room. From the doorway, she saw Emma and Strathaven. At the opposite end of the room, they were bickering over where to hang a circular board that resembled an archery target. A new diversion, Thea thought, hiding a smile. Her sister and brother-in-law did enjoy their games.
Then her gaze shifted, and she saw Gabriel and Freddy sitting in a pair of club chairs. The latter’s cowlick had been combed into place, and he was a darling, somber miniature of his papa. The two had the same upright posture; neither of them was talking. She wondered, not for the first time, why there should be distance between father and son. They clearly loved one another. Perhaps what they needed was a nudge to close the gap.
Gabriel looked up as she entered, and the look in his eyes set butterflies swarming in her belly. Gone was the habitual shield of coolness; his gaze was warm and soft as smoke. He rose to meet her, and a thrum of possessive pleasure passed through her. Handsome and virile, he was majestic in a dark green jacket which emphasized his broad shoulders and lean torso. His trousers fit like a second skin over his muscular thighs, tucking into polished Hessians.
“You’re up late this morning, Miss Kent. I hope last night’s activities didn’t overtire you?” His tone was polite; his eyes had a sensual gleam.
Blushing, she said, “I just needed a little extra rest is all. Did you, um, sleep well?”
“Never better.” His mouth crooked up in a rare smile.
Her heart melting, she waved to Freddy. “Hello, dear. It’s lovely to see you up and about.”
“Dr. Abernathy said a change of scenery would do me good,” the boy answered with a shy smile. “And I’m feeling ever so much better today.”
“I’m delighted to hear it,” she said warmly.
“Thea, you should have found me if you weren’t feeling well last night.” Emma approached, her brown eyes worried. “Thank heavens Tremont was there to help you. Lord knows these affairs can take one over the edge—”
“There’s no need to fuss, Em. I’m perfectly well.” Certain her face must be red as an apple by now, Thea sought to change the subject. Looking over her sister’s shoulder, she saw Strathaven make a furtive adjustment to the board on the wall. “What are the two of you hanging up there?”
“It’s for a game. Similar to archery except one uses darts instead of arrows,” Emma explained. “Mr. McLeod has one at home. He and his fellow soldiers used to play it to pass time during their regiment days. And you know Strathaven. Anything his brother has, he has to—” Catching the duke move the target, she said in exasperated tones, “That is far too close to the window, Alaric.”
“The board shows up better near the light. It’s perfectly placed,” her husband said.
“If you don’t want glass in the panes.” Her lips pursed. “I won’t be able to play for fear of breaking the window.”
“Fear helps one’s aim.” Coming over, Strathaven chucked her under the chin. “Now stop worrying, pet, and let’s get organized into teams.”
Freddy opted to watch, so Thea found herself paired with Gabriel, which was perfect, since she was dying to talk to him. The duke went over the rules: each team was given four darts, tiny spears beautifully ornamented with colored feathers—blue for the Strathavens and green for Thea and Gabriel. From the throwing line, each player had to toss their dart at the target, which was painted with three concentric circles and a red bull’s-eye in the center. The team with the dart that landed closest to the bull’s-eye was the winner.
As Emma stepped up to take the first turn, Gabriel said in an undertone, “How are you?”
To one who did not know him, his question was merely polite. But Thea saw from the taut line of his jaw that he was genuinely concerned about the aftermath of last night. The fact that this strong, stoic man worried over her made her feel as giddy as if she’d imbibed a glass of champagne.
“I’m well,” she assured him. “Better than well.”
“You don’t regret anything?”
“No.” Seeing his seriousness, she couldn’t help but tease, “Actually, there is one thing.”
“Yes?”
“I regret that we didn’t do it sooner.”
A breath left him, one that she hadn’t realized he’d been holding. His eyes heated, turning to molten steel. “As to that, there is always the future.”
Her knees wobbled, her heart thumping. “Is there?”
“God, I hope so.”
His tone was fervent, so unlike the emotionless Angel that she had to smile. At the same time, insecurity niggled at her. What had changed for him last night? What had prompted him to act on his attraction at last? For so long he’d wavered on their relationship. What guarantee did she have that his feelings wouldn’t change again?
Before she could work up the nerve to ask, the duke called her up for her turn. She went to the line and tried to concentrate on the target. Holding the green dart at eye level, she aimed and let it fly. It plunked in the outermost ring, farther from the center than Emma’s dart.
She returned to Gabriel. “I’m not very good at this,” she said ruefully.
“You just need practice.” Though his expression was impassive, his eyes smiled. “I’d be happy to lend a hand with your form, princess.”
Her pulse took on a staccato beat. Goodness, a flirtatious Gabriel was even more devastating to her senses than an enigmatic one. Recalling that he’d used the same endearment with her last night, she said shyly, “Why do you call me that?”
“Princess, you mean?”
She nodded.
“Because you remind me of a story. The princess locked in the tower.” His low, husky voice made goosebumps rise on her skin. “From the first time I saw you, I wanted you to let down your hair for me.”
Thea’s breath left her in erratic surges. She felt lightheaded. Any more of this and she might faint with happiness. Luckily, Emma’s cheer interrupted them. The duke had landed a dart in the ring closest to the center.
It was Gabriel’s turn, but he passed Thea the feathered projectile. “Try again.”
“Now, you go. We’ll lose otherwise—”
“It’s just a game.” He steered her toward the line. “Bring your arm back a little more, like this.” He positioned her arm, so that her hand was near her right ear. His nearness stole her breath, his clean male musk making her giddy. “Try to keep your shoulder and arm relaxed; think of it as throwing from your elbow.”
She concentrated, trying to follow his advice. She threw, and the little arrow thudded into the circle next to the bull’s-eye.
“Well done, Miss Thea!” Freddy said.
Rather pleased with her improvement, she smiled. “Thank you, dear.”
Emma’s next throw missed the board completely, landing in the molding around the window, a mere half inch from the glass. She gave her husband an I-told-you-so look.
Gabriel handed Thea their third dart. Again, he helped place her arm into position. “This time,” he said, “snap your wrist a little to give it extra speed.”
Her dart landed even closer to the center than her last one.
“Nicely done,” Gabriel said. “You’ve got the touch for this.”
His approval sent a wave of warmth through her.
The duke went last for his team. His arrow landed in the red, just a smidgen left of center. That was that, Thea supposed. No one was going to beat such a shot.
When Gabriel held out the final dart, Thea shook her head. “Please, you take a turn. I want to see your form.” Realizing how that sounded, she blushed.
“If you insist.” Smiling faintly, Gabriel didn’t even bother to step up to the line. In fact, his eyes didn’t leave hers, and in a movement so natural it looked like he wasn’t aiming at all, he let their last dart fly.
It hit the board with a decisive thud. Dead center, Thea saw with amazement. The target vibrated from the power of his throw, a few of the other darts loosening and plummeting to the ground.
Freddy let out a whoop. “You won, Papa!”
“Not bad, Tremont.” Strathaven’s brows lifted. “Done this before, have you?”
“A time or two.”
As the duke and Em set about collecting the darts, Gabriel turned to Thea. “Would you care to take a stroll in the garden?” he said quietly. “There is much for us to discuss.”
“I would love to—”
She was cut off by the shuffling arrival of Jarvis, the aged butler. “Begging your pardon, Lord Tremont,” the loyal retainer said in his Scottish brogue, “but a message arrived for you just now.”
Gabriel took the note from the salver. He scanned its contents, his expression darkening.
“News?” the duke said.
“I hired a man to look for the governess, and he’s tracked down an old address for her in Shoreditch.”
“Do you think she’ll be there?” Strathaven said, frowning.
Gabriel’s eyes were as hard as steel. “It’s a lead I’ll have to check out.”
“I’ll go with you,” the duke offered.
“I’d rather you keep an eye on my son. I’ll be back soon—with good news, I hope.” He paused, his gaze on Thea. “Once this business is over, the future can truly begin.”
“Do have a care,” she said anxiously. “It could be dangerous—”
He bowed over her hand, murmured, “We’ll talk more when I return. Wait for me?”
She nodded. He said a brief goodbye to Freddy and strode out.
“Don’t worry, dear.” Seeing the fear the boy was valiantly trying to hide, Thea gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Your papa will be fine.”
“I don’t like Mademoiselle Fournier. She’s not a good person.” Freddy’s bottom lip quivered.
“No, she isn’t, but hopefully this will soon be over. Now would you care to try throwing some darts? I could use a practice partner.”
“Oh.” Freddy’s brow furrowed. “I suppose I can try.”
He proved a quick study, the first few tries landing respectably in the middle ring. Like father, like son, Thea thought with pride. Freddy’s next dart hit the edge of the red, and at that same instant, the windows suddenly rattled with a blast.
He blinked. “I didn’t do that… did I?”
“What the devil? That came from the street.” Strathaven was already heading out of the room, toward the front of the house. “Stay back here where it’s safe.”
Emma, of course, followed him, and Thea and Freddy hurried behind her. In the drawing room, Thea went to one of the windows overlooking the street. She stood on tiptoe, craning her neck to see—
Her heart stopped.
At the end of the road, Gabriel’s carriage lay on its side, engulfed by flames.