Love Letters (14 page)

“See here! You can’t go up there!” Lady Hogar called.

His anger faded, fear taking its place. His heart thundered madly with each step he took. Instinct told him that Cynthia was in danger. At the top of the stairs, he paused. A shiver of unease raised the fine hairs on his neck. Slowly, he turned right. A large man stood at the end of the hall, his face laced with confusion and determination. Gabriel started down the corridor, just as determined. The man shifted, bracing his legs apart and narrowing his eyes, preparing for battle.

“Move aside,” Gabriel demanded.

The man didn’t flinch, didn’t stir. He had a job to do and nothing would stop him.
Nothing…but a fist.
Gabriel curled his fingers and jabbed his arm forward. Traveling much of his adult life, he’d had to learn how to protect himself. His knuckles cracked against the man’s jaw. The henchman stumbled back, hit the wall, and slid to the floor. He hadn’t stood a chance.

Gabriel pressed his fingers to the door. “Cynthia?”
 

There was a long pause, then a hesitant, “Yes?”

Relief was sweet.
Much sweeter than it should have been.
Damn it, he was supposed to be angry with her! “Stand back.”

With a growl low in his throat, he slammed his shoulder into the hard panel, the pain almost preferable to the ache in his heart. The wood gave way, breaking into pieces that skittered like tinder across the floor. The room was bare, a small bed in the corner. No carpet. Not even curtains on the one window. Shite, this was where she lived? Just like that, his anger was gone.

Cynthia stood against the far wall, shock and confusion flittering across her fine features. The early morning sun had not reached her window and the only light was a small lantern that offered no warmth to her small abode. She was here. She was well. His knees almost gave out in relief.
Sweet, lovely Cynthia.
He would forgive her for deceiving him about that night at the ball, but if she had lied about her feelings toward him, he wasn’t sure he could ever forget.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered.

“I’ve come for the truth.”

Her brows drew together. “You can’t marry Helen,” she blurted out.

He didn’t respond, but started toward her, his steps slow and deliberate against the cold, wooden floor. He didn’t pause until he reached her. Cupping the sides of her face, he pressed his lips to hers. Instantly, she sighed into him, her mouth going soft, her body melting. A shiver of need and anticipation coursed down his spine. His body remembered her touch.

As much as he wanted to keep kissing her, he pulled back, resting his forehead to hers. He’d known it, and now he was positive. He’d kissed Cynthia that night in the
folly,
he’d made love to her in the rain. “It was you, that night of the ball.”

She pulled back, shaking her head and rushing across the room, away from him. “No.”

Gabriel wanted to be angry with her, he should be. He couldn’t. “No more lies.”

She paused and turned. Tears pooled in her large blue eyes. She was soft, kind, lovely. How could he have ever mistaken her for Helen? “What’s your favorite flower?”

Her brows drew together. “I don’t….”

Another step.
“What?”

“Foxglove,” she admitted. “Because they—”

“Remind you of fairy bells.”

She nodded slowly.

Another step forward.
“When you were eight, you had a collection of seashells.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, a smile quivering on her lush lips. He paused in front of her and brushed away the tear with his thumb. “Your dream is to live by the sea.”

She nodded, another tear slipping down her smooth cheek.

“
You
wrote me those letters.” He cupped the sides of her face, his heart swelling with hope and happiness. “You’re the woman I know.”

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her eyes begging for forgiveness. Perhaps he should be
angry,
perhaps he should storm from the room. Damn it all, he was tired of living a lie. He wanted love… happiness. He wanted Cynthia.
 

He swallowed hard, resisting the urge to press his mouth to hers and comfort her with his kiss. He needed answers first. “Why? Why did you do it?”

She closed her eyes.
“At first because I had to.
Helen insisted.”

“And later?”
He held his breath, waiting.

She opened her eyes and he saw only sincerity in her beautiful blue gaze.
“Because I wanted to.
Your letters were the only bright spot in my life. I lived for those letters. I lived for you.”

The answer he needed to hear and in that moment, he forgave her. He knew this woman. He’d known the moment he’d met her, but had been blinded by other people’s expectations. No longer would he hide from life, from the truth.

“Tell me you love me.”

She
smiled,
a smile that lit up her entire being. “I’ve loved you since that first letter.”

Gabriel slid his arm around her waist and lifted her, cradling Cynthia to his chest. He pressed his mouth to hers for a quick, possessive kiss,
then
he started toward the door.

Bemusement crossing her face, Cynthia wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “What are you doing?”

Gabriel grinned down at her. “What no one else had the sense to do, claiming you for my
own.
”

Epilogue

Three Weeks Later

“What do you think, Mrs. Baston,” the velvet voice next to her ear sent a shiver of complete awareness over her skin.

Cynthia leaned back into the hard body behind her, snuggling into the fold of his embrace. The waves washed ashore, tickling her feet and kissing her toes. The sea was cold, but that hadn’t prevented her from stripping to her shift and frolicking in the waves with Gabriel. His body and his kisses had kept her warm.
 

“It’s amazing, Mr. Baston,” she said, curling her bare toes into the gritty sand, reveling in the textures, sounds, sites before her.
 

The sea was more magical than she’d remembered. The one time she’d visited the ocean, she’d thought it a magical place where anything could happen. She’d been right.

The sun was starting to set, sending brilliant orange and pink rays across the sky and promising a night of endless possibilities. She turned and wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist. He wore only trousers, no shirt and his chest was warm against her cheek.

He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Is it as beautiful as you remember?”

He was so eager to see her happy. She grinned up at him. “Better.”

When he smiled back, her entire being lit within. She couldn’t help herself and stood on tiptoe, pressing her lips to his in a quick kiss. The sound of waves crashing against the shore mixed with the cry of birds, combining in a magical symphony. Just beyond the shore, yellow and blue wildflowers wavered in the grass, and their small cottage gleamed white against a setting sun.
A haven.

“Perfect,” she whispered. “Everything is perfect.”

“Yes,” he whispered, against her ear, “You are.”

She started to correct him, but his hands moved down her thighs and any thoughts vanished, floating out to sea with the waves. He pulled her shift higher, higher, sliding his hands under the soft material and cupping her naked bottom.

Since arriving at their sea-side cottage a week ago, they had yet to visit town. Gabriel had sent the driver for food, before he’d left them. But they’d spent most of their days in bed, or frolicking near the sea. It was perfect, but then she had a feeling she could be anywhere and as long as Gabriel was with her, it would be the perfect place.

His warm hand slid between her sensitive thighs. She shivered with pure delight. Would she ever get used to his touch? He wrapped an arm around her back and another under her legs, lifting her up against his chest. Gently, he settled her on the blanket they’d used to make love earlier. With the weight of his body, he covered her. Cold waves reached the shore, licking her toes. Cynthia giggled, drawing her legs up.

“I will never tire of your laughter,” he whispered.

His hair curled and wavered on the breeze, tempting her fingers to touch the strands. “And I will never tire of you,” she whispered.
 

His mouth met hers, his tongue delving between her lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck, slipping her fingers through the damp, silky strands of his hair. Gabriel was hers.
All hers.
She could still hardly believe it. Never had she known, even dreamt, she could be so happy.

His knee slipped between her thighs and her legs fell open. His velvety hard arousal pressed to her lower belly, her thin shift the only barrier between them.

“I can’t get enough of you.” Gabriel reached up to her neckline and pulled the material lower, exposing her breasts to the fading sunlight and to his touch. He found a hard nipple, drawing the bud between his warm lips as his fingers bunched the material of her shift up around her thighs. The cool sea air brushed intimately against her legs.

“You’re lovely,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the valley between her breasts.

Those fingers found her soft curls and slipped between her wet folds. Cynthia moaned, arching her back and drawing his fingers deeper into her tight sheath. She was completely and utterly ready for him.

“I want you, Gabriel, how badly I want you.”

She wrapped her legs around his thighs as she slid her hands down his smooth back. The man was perfect.
Beautiful.
His scent and body consumed her, held her in an erotic embrace. She couldn’t stop touching him, stop kissing him. His hand moved and she felt the thickened tip of his shaft.

Cynthia lifted her hips, pressing against his rigid erection.

“Temptress,” he whispered.

Gabriel entered her, a slow thrust that had her wanting more. He watched her face as he drew back, then thrust into her again, faster, deeper.

“I love you, Cynthia,” he said.

“Please, Gabriel, please,” she whispered, begging him for more. Her fingers slid down his back, under his loose trousers and cupping his tight bottom, pulling him closer. He sank into her, his body shuddering with need.

“What you do to me.” He rocked against her, sending wave after wave of pure pleasure crashing through her body.

They moved together, they made love, they became one.

Cynthia felt him tightened, just as she caught fire. Her soul exploded into a million white stars of pleasure. She didn’t know how much time had gone by before she could finally breathe with some normalcy again. Gabriel rolled off her, but pulled her close to his side. She managed to push down her skirts, should anyone come upon the shore. Apparently thinking the same thing, Gabriel managed to fasten his trousers.

She nuzzled her face against his warm chest, listening to the rapid beat of his heart. “I should make your something to eat.”

He quirked a brow, glancing down at her.
“Can you cook?”

She brushed her fingers through the crisp, dark hair on his chest. “Perhaps you should have asked me that before you forced me to marry you.”

“Forced, is it?” He gripped her waist and pulled her atop of him.

She rested her chin on his chest and grinned. “Yes. You were quite the brute carrying me off as you did.”

He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “And you loved it.”

She laughed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling herself up so their breaths mingled. “True. But tell me
now,
if my meals are wretched and burnt, will you toss me aside for another?”

His eyes sparkled with laughter. “Absolutely, it’s what I look for in a wife, you know, one who can bake.” His face grew serious and he gazed thoughtfully toward the sea. “Of course, I could always hire a cook.”

“No! That will ruin our fun. I like being here with you, alone.”

He looked at her, his silver eyes sparkling. “You merely like swimming naked amongst the waves.”

“That too,” she whispered against his mouth.

His hands moved up her thighs, his erection growing hard against her lower belly. The man was insatiable. But she did love trying to appease his appetite.

“We don’t need food, we shall live on love then,” Gabriel declared.
  

She laughed. “If only we could.” Her thoughts grew serious as she traced the square line of his jaw, the rough texture of his whiskers tickling her skin. “I suppose we do need return to the city soon. You are an important man, after all, and you must have important people to meet with.”

He smiled. “The only person of importance in my life is you. Tempt me, and I shall keep you here forever, merely the two of us…and perhaps a babe or two.”

Her heart filled with warmth at the prospect.
A family?
A true, loving family?
“Promise you don’t regret marrying me?”