Bride for a Night (26 page)

Before she could lose her nerve, Talia knelt beside the tub and reached for the cake of soap that had been left in a pewter dish on the floor. Dipping it into the water, she hesitantly smoothed it along the strong line of his shoulder.

Gabriel groaned his approval, allowing his head to rest on the back of the tub and his eyes to slide shut.

Without his piercing silver gaze to watch her every movement, Talia felt her awkwardness ease, and her touch became bolder as she soaped the strong column of his neck and then the width of his chest.

He was astonishingly…hard, she realized as his well-toned muscles rippled beneath her touch. Although Gabriel had never been one of the effeminate dandies that pranced about London, his graceful movements and elegant attire had disguised the sheer strength of his body.

Her blood heated as she soaped his broad chest and felt his heart racing as she sensuously stroked his slick skin. In this moment she was in command of this dance of seduction, and she was heady with the rare sense of power.

She turned her attention to his nearest arm when a wave caught the yacht and water splashed from the tub onto the floor. Talia hastily began to rise, only to be halted when his fingers encircled her wrist, and his lashes
lifted to reveal a smoldering heat in the depths of his silver eyes.

“Paradise,” he murmured. “I could become accustomed to having you play handmaiden.” His gaze lowered to the lace that did little to hide the low scoop of her bodice. “Of course, you would have need of proper attire.”

Talia sucked in a deep breath, acutely aware that her nipples were hardening beneath his heated gaze.

“Proper attire?” she croaked.

“Hmm.” His thumb stroked her inner wrist, no doubt able to feel the rapid beat of her pulse. “Perhaps a pair of those gauzy harem pants that are preferred by the sultans.”

She narrowed her gaze. For all her enjoyment in playing the role of handmaiden, she would be damned if she would dress as a concubine.

“You attempt to put me in harem pants and I will drown you,” she warned.

He chuckled, his gaze flicking over her flushed cheek. “Do you oppose the notion because you are a prude or because you possess the heart of a bluestocking?”

She stilled, meeting his amused gaze with a somber expression.

“Would it trouble you if I were a bluestocking?”

He lifted a brow. “The truth?”

She gave a slow nod, attempting to hide just how much his answer meant to her.

“Yes.”

He moved forward to press a kiss to her startled lips.

“I find the thought of a clever, well-educated woman who possesses the heart of a warrior and the lush temptation of a gypsy unbearably erotic,” he said lowly.

Her heart melted. It was, of course, the perfect response.

“You do?”

“If you have need of proof…”

With a tug on her wrist, Gabriel lowered her hand beneath the water and urged her fingers to wrap around his thick arousal.

“Oh.”

He hissed out a raw breath of pleasure, a shudder rippling through his body as he surged upright and out of the tub. Talia barely managed to straighten before his arms were wrapped around her waist, and she was being maneuvered toward the edge of the cabin.

“Oh, indeed,” he growled, his arms tightening as he tumbled her onto the bunk, his large body following downward to press her into the soft mattress.

Her hands lifted to his shoulders, barely capable of thinking as the damp heat of his body branded through her sheer nightgown.

“You are wet,” she murmured.

“And now so are you,” he teased, nipping at the lobe of her ear before allowing his tongue to trace a path to the base of her throat. Her breath caught as he nuzzled lower, giving a sharp tug on the nightgown to rip the material and expose her body to his searching lips. “Allow me to be of assistance.”

“Really, Gabriel,” she protested, even as she shivered in growing pleasure. “There is no need to ruin my nightgown.”

“I will buy you another.”

He shifted to watch the movement of his slender hand as it glided over the full curve of her breast, his thumb teasing the sensitive tip of her nipple before moving down the soft curve of her waist. He smiled as her breath quick
ened, his hand stroking over her hip, and then with a gentle tug he parted her legs to brush his fingers up the bare skin of her thigh.

She had to swallow twice before she could speak. The excitement in her lower belly spread through her body like wildfire. Not that she desired to complain, but it was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate upon anything beyond his hand that moved ever higher.

“Would it not be more sensible to simply allow me to remove the garment?”

“Perhaps it would be more sensible, but it would not be nearly so enjoyable.”

Lowering his head, Gabriel captured her lips in a kiss that demanded utter surrender. At the same time his clever fingers found the aching spot between her legs. Her hips jerked upward as he parted her to seek the slick dampness within.

“Dear lord,” she breathed in shock.

“Do you like that?” he whispered.

Her eyes fluttered closed as he pressed a finger into her moist channel, his thumb easily discovering that magical point of pleasure. “Yes.”

He groaned softly, his head lowering to press his mouth against the pulse that pounded a wild tempo at the base of her throat.

“I can feel your passion. Taste it on my lips.”

Talia struggled not to be swept beneath the dark, blissful tide of her rising desire. It was all happening so fast, but she could not seem to gather the will to stop the delicious assault.

Then, accepting that she was battling the inevitable, she sighed softly and allowed her hands to explore the hard planes of his chest.

He gave a low hiss of pleasure, his mouth skimming down to the curve of her lush breast before tugging her hardened nipple between his lips.

Talia’s toes curled in delight as he gently suckled her nipple while his finger continued to stroke between her legs with that swift, delectable pace.

Her hands slid around to discover the broad width of his back. She could spend hours just savoring the feel of his warm, satin skin beneath her hands.

For the first time in her entire life she was not Silas Dobson’s painfully shy daughter. Or the awkward debutante who was an endless source of amusement throughout society.

She was a woman who was capable of inspiring the deepest passions of her husband.

Glorying in the delicious sense of confidence, she arched her hips upward as the pleasure began to swell toward the looming pinnacle.

“I need you. I need to be within you.” He lifted his head, the silver eyes filled with a yearning that made Talia’s heart squeeze in the oddest manner. “Are you prepared?”

She shivered at his expression of undisguised hunger. Was there anything more thrilling than this man’s fierce desire?

Even if it was only for the satisfaction her body could offer.

Her fingernails dug into his back as that shimmering, glorious peak hovered just beyond reach. At the moment she would have agreed to anything he demanded.

“Yes,” she whispered.

With a growl that echoed through the cabin, he returned his mouth to her aching breast as he shifted his body over the top of her, settling between her thighs.

“Open for me, my dear,” he rasped against her skin, moaning softly as she instinctively wrapped her legs around his slender hips. “Yes, that is perfect.”

“Gabriel…”

Her words were brought to a shuddering halt as his erection slid into her welcoming body. A shocking jolt of intense pleasure surged through her as he began to rock his hips back and forth.

She moaned with each deep thrust, lost in his perfect rhythm as he continued to plunge inside her and at the same time used his teeth to torment the tip of her breast.

At last it was all too much.

Talia gasped as she writhed beneath his touch, her nails raking down his back. Even having enjoyed his loving more than once she was still shocked by the near violent explosion that clenched her lower muscles and brought a startled scream to her lips.

Paradise, indeed.

G
ABRIEL FLOATED
in a haze of blissful satisfaction, his arms wrapped tightly about his wife as the yacht swayed and rocked beneath them.

It would be a simple matter to close his eyes and allow his exhaustion to pull him into slumber. He could not even recall how long it had been since he had been able to claim more than a snatched hour or two of uneasy rest.

In truth, he had not enjoyed a full night of uninterrupted sleep since he had sent Talia away from London.

But, while he was satisfied that they truly had escaped from the clutches of Jacques Gerard and that they would soon be safely tucked at Carrick Park, he found it impossible to take his gaze from Talia.

It was not just her tousled beauty that was bathed in the sunlight that peeked through the porthole, although
the sight of her dark, glossy curls tumbled over the pillow and her pale face flushed with lingering pleasure was enough to inspire poets. No, it was more the unshakable, if irrational, fear that she might disappear from his arms the moment he closed his eyes.

His arms tightened around her warm curves and tugged the cover over their entwined bodies. Talia wiggled onto her side, studying him with a searching gaze.

“What is troubling you?”

He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “What could be troubling me?”

She wrinkled her nose at his evasive response, no doubt sensing his reluctance to discuss his odd apprehension. But rather than snuggling against his chest and falling asleep as he had hoped, she continued to regard him with that all too knowing gaze.

“What are your plans for when we return to England?”

He allowed his hand to smooth down the arch of her back. If he could not coax her to sleep, then perhaps he could find another means to distract her.

“Do you wish me to describe them in detail?”

She trembled in ready response, but pressing a hand to his chest, she refused to be diverted. Stubborn wench.

“I mean in regard to your brother.”

Knowing when to accept defeat, Gabriel rolled onto his back and stared at the open beams above his head.

“I cannot keep Harry’s betrayal from the King or his council within the Home Office,” he admitted.

He felt her stiffen at his side. “But…”

“It is not to punish my brother, Talia,” he said, overriding her predictable protest. Once he had accepted that Harry had disappeared with no intent of returning to England, Gabriel had made his decision. The only decision
possible. “But while I pray that he has truly learned his lesson, I cannot risk the lives of British soldiers while Harry is still capable of causing harm.”

Her hand brushed over his chest to lie against his heart, as if unconsciously attempting to ease his concern.

“I am sorry.”

He turned to press his face into her unruly curls, breathing in the sweet scent of lilac and warm woman. Who could have ever predicted he would not only put aside years of inexorable control to share his feelings with his wife, but that he would actually seek her comfort?

Astonishing.

“It was inevitable that I would be forced to reveal Harry’s relationship with Jacques Gerard,” he admitted, his voice revealing his painful regret, “but I have hopes that his treachery will be kept a closely guarded secret.”

“I do not understand. I thought you were convinced he must stand trial.”

“That was my original thought. However, I believe Harry has offered me the means to ensure the prime minister will do whatever necessary to prevent word of the betrayal from becoming common knowledge.”

She shifted so she could study him with a suspicious frown. “What means?”

His lips twitched as he sat upright and reached for his jacket at the end of the bunk. Did she fear he had some nefarious plot in mind?

Reaching into the inner pocket of his jacket, Gabriel pulled out the piece of parchment he had hidden. Then, leaning back, he handed it to Talia. “This.”

He hid a smile as she carefully tucked the blanket over her lovely body, as if he had not already memorized every
delectable inch of her satin skin, before she unfolded the parchment to study the list.

She at last lifted her head with a puzzled frown. “I have been introduced to several of these gentlemen, but I do not recall them being particular friends of Harry. Why would they assist him?”

Gabriel snorted, well aware that at least two of the gentlemen had threatened to issue a duel with his reckless brother when they’d caught him in bed with their wives.

“I can assure you that assisting my brother was never their intention,” he said wryly.

“Then why do you have their names listed?”

“I did not list them.” He grinned. “Jacques Gerard did.”

She silently considered his revelation, her cunning mind swiftly comprehending the impact of the names.

“They are traitors?” she asked in shock.

He gave a lift of his shoulder. “It would seem so.”

“But…” She regarded him with wide eyes, struggling to accept the evidence. “Dear heavens.”

“Yes,” he murmured.

Her lips flattened as she tossed aside the list and gave a disapproving shake of her head.

“Is there no one to be trusted?”

“Power is too often corrupted, I fear, but we at least have the means to use their weakness to our advantage.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You have a plan?”

He plucked the parchment off the bed and waved it lazily.

“Neither Jacques nor the traitors are aware that Harry stumbled across this list.”

His smile widened in anticipation. He had swiftly recovered from his own dismay at the sight of the names.
Unlike Talia, he had already been jaded by his fellow members of parliament. Which meant he understood that the traitors would never come to justice, despite the fact that the bastards would be eager enough to see Harry hang for his crimes.

A knowledge he intended to use to his advantage.

“Where did he find it?”

“At the vicarage.” He silently reminded himself to have the house searched from attics to cellars, as well as the church. “Harry copied the list and left behind the original. So far as they are concerned, their contemptible alliance remains a secret.”