Rogues Gallery (26 page)

When Marisa made no protest—indeed, when she moved with seeming impatience—Gabriel lowered his mouth to her, gently pressing his fingers inside at the same time.

Marisa nearly screamed as she writhed under Gabriel's insistent mouth. He increased the pressure of his fingers and lips, intent on nudging her farther away from reason and closer to the brink of a dangerous cliff.

Her pleasure was his only reason for existing.

She whispered his name, as if frightened by her willingness to hurl herself over the precipice. Gabriel smoothed his hand over her hip to reassure her, but he was driven by the need to provide her with even greater sensation. He intensified her torment with tantalizing slow movements.

Marisa instinctively clenched around Gabriel's hand and gave up her soul to him, trusting him to gather together the myriad pieces she was splintering into at that moment.

Gabriel almost came undone at the evidence of her complete faith in him. He moved up in the bed and pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair, her back, her arms, crooning anything that might soothe her return to normalcy. His own rapid heartbeat took some time to calm itself, not an easy task due to his heightened arousal at her explosive fulfillment.

"That was powerfully sinful," Marisa said, not a hint of remorse in her voice.

"I thought that might increase its appeal to you," he answered, squeezing her closer at the same time.

"Shall all the lessons end in such a fashion?"

Gabriel hid a grin in her hair, eager to hear her guileless description. "In what fashion?"

She nuzzled her face against his chest. "You know."

"Well, there are many different ways the deed can be accomplished, of course."

"But I mean—"

"Shall you come apart in my arms each time?" She nodded and he kissed her head, holding her in what he knew was a ridiculously possessive manner. "Yes, angel, if it is what you want."

She lifted her head. "Oh, but I do! 'Tis frightening at first," she confessed, "for it felt as if you were driving me to the very brink of madness. Yet I wanted it so badly. And then when I thought I would die from wanting it, there was a burst of stars and I was falling from a great distance. Only I was falling straight into heaven," she finished, obviously awestruck at the memory. She lay back down, adding, "You must think me mad for certain now."

"Not at all," Gabriel answered around the lump of emotion in his throat. "'Tis the most delightful description I have ever heard."

"Gabriel," she ventured.

"Mmm?"

"What of you?"

His heart leapt, but he managed with a calm voice, "What of me?"

"Should you not feel this as well? It seems woefully one-sided. Perhaps if I were to reciprocate."

Gabriel placed his lips against her mouth, thrilled by her generous offer. He hovered at the edge of lunacy at that moment, for he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her receptive body, yet it was the last thing he could ever do. Not while Edmund remained alive.

Steadying his heartbeat, he managed to say, "We must save something for future lessons, angel."

"There shall be more lessons then?"

"With the wicked curiosity you possess," he teased, "I shall run out of schooling long before it is sated."

"'Tis not possible. But I am willing to be proven wrong on the topic," she added. "In truth, I am glad you proved me wrong on other topics today as well."

"As am I, angel." He gave her a hearty hug, whispering again, "As am I."

Darkness had always been Gabriel's friend. He loved the anonymity it provided, more so than his masks and disguises did. Yet this particular evening the darkness did not appear his boon companion, for it took so infernally long to arrive, increasing his impatience to see Marisa again.

The sun seemed to taunt him with its interminably slow descent into the western sky. He nearly yelled his frustration. Tonight, as soon as he was done, he would once more reassure Marisa of his continued devotion to her.

Gabriel paced the abbey grounds, multiple times. And still it was not dark enough. He barked orders in an unusually curt fashion to Gilbey, who cackled in reply, causing Gabriel to utter a harsh oath when Davy approached.

Davy's face fell, and Gabriel felt a swift moment of remorse. "I would ask your forgiveness, Davy, me boy," he said, resting his hand on the young lad's shoulder. In a teasing Irish brogue, he admitted, "'Tis not your fault that I am in a devil of a mood. It is my longing to see my angel that has me snapping at you."

Davy lifted his head, and Gabriel felt another pang when he glimpsed the wary hopefulness in the young man's eyes.

"I understand exactly how you feel," Davy said. "I can think of nothing else but her, either."

Gilbey chuckled, apparently from the surprise registered on Gabriel's face. "Davy and I are both impatient to see the angelic miss again."

"Is that so?"

"Perhaps we could join you on your next visit to her," Gilbey added innocently, though it was spoiled by his impertinent smile.

"Admirable attempt," Gabriel said. He growled at the vivid sunset, streaks of pink and purple melting into the horizon at a leisurely pace. "I shall be in my dotage before I see her next."

Davy sighed as if in utter agreement. Gilbey looked at the two heartsick men and began to howl with laughter.

"Gilbey," Gabriel said with a warning laugh. "I can remember a cheeky lad pining for a tavern wench not so long ago."

"It is not an easy path when one is in love, is it?" Davy asked.

Gilbey's laughter stilled. Gabriel swallowed. Surely the lad was not under the impression that he, Gabriel, was in love. Davy was clearly under the influence of a newfound emotion, but that was not a surprise. Marisa had shown nothing but kindness to the young man who had had so little of it in his life.

But Gabriel? In love? He smiled in a noncommittal way before dismissing the two men, needing the time to contemplate such a notion. He would concede he was infatuated with Marisa, and he would not argue with the point that she aroused him as no other woman had ever done.

Yet love involved trust, and giving one's soul for safekeeping. He had learned at a tender age how painful, not to mention foolhardy, it was to love.

It was possible to imagine loving Marisa, for she was soft, yet strong, generous, and full of humor, and altogether too passionate for words. He thanked the Fates for putting her in his path, for he could not imagine his existence without her.

He had won Marisa's trust, many times over, and it was a prize worth keeping. Though she had little reason to trust him, and had struggled mightily after their wedding, still she gave him her faith. She had also learned in her young life the high price of betrayal by those charged with her care. Yet somehow she found the ability to believe in someone else again, despite her painful history.

Could he do any less?

Gabriel stalked toward the perimeter of the camp, barely seeing the men preparing themselves for the night's activities. He knew Gilbey would have readied Eclipse, but he needed something to distract him from his wayward thoughts, the mad notion that he could someday give his love to Marisa.

Gilbey looked up from brushing Eclipse, and wisely curbed his grin.

"Thank you, Gilbey," Gabriel said, and they both knew it was not only for his preparations with the animal. "I shall finish with the saddle."

Gilbey nodded, and set off to check on his own horse. "It shouldn't be much longer."

"I hope you are correct," Gabriel said. He smoothed his hand over Eclipse's sleek neck, marveling at the animal's black sheen, even in the approaching twilight. Despite his many attempts at distraction, his mind would not deviate from thoughts of Marisa.

Even were he to succumb to love, Gabriel could not ask, or expect, Marisa to love a man such as he—a base criminal, no matter how justified the circumstances. It was best he did not love her, for surely one day she would turn away from him in scorn if he could not force Edmund to justice.

He had embarked on the impersonation scheme to flush Edmund out of his silence, somehow induce him to defend his good name when all the world believed him to be a highwayman. Yet either Edmund cared little for the scandal or had heard nothing of it.

He tugged on the stirrup leathers, ensuring they were secure. Eclipse turned his head, giving Gabriel a baleful glance. Gabriel grinned, realizing he was transferring his multitudes of frustration to the animal. He gave the cantle one last adjustment, and then slapped Eclipse's flank, ready for the evening's adventures.

He would step up his efforts that very night in the hopes Edmund would finally react. Gabriel wanted to consummate his marriage to Marisa, to demonstrate to her just how strong his feelings were for her. He might have wed her as a temporary protection, but after their previous evening together, now he wanted it to be a marriage in fact, not one in name only.

Yet he could not do so until Edmund had been taught a long-overdue lesson.

Not for the first time Gabriel wondered why his life had been spared. For fifteen years he had believed it was so that he could bring his uncle to justice. Now it seemed the gods enjoyed his torment, punishing him for wanting more, forcing him to choose between two impossible options.

Perhaps it had been selfish to believe his wedding Marisa would protect her from his uncle. If he did not find a way to remove her from his uncle's house, the bigamous wedding would proceed as planned. He had not considered the notion when he had recklessly indulged in the secret ceremony.

Then his only thought was to have Marisa as his own, to thwart his uncle's future plans, even if it was just in Gabriel's mind. But bigamy was a dangerous scheme, one bound to put Marisa at a terrible risk. She would become a felon if he did not make haste with his efforts to disgrace Edmund.

He glanced at the darkening sky.
Finally
!

His heart raced. He would be holding Marisa close that very evening. Much later that night, though. There were valuables to gather, and reputations to destroy, before he could visit his angel, at long last.

***

G
abriel swung the carriage door wide.

"Come, my good folks." He gestured with a broad sweep of his arm for the occupants to depart the safety of their traveling coach. "It is a great deal easier for us all if you join me under the stars."

There was grumbling from inside the opulent carriage, as well as some noises as if the wealthy occupants were shifting about. However, none accepted his gracious offer.

Gabriel grimaced at Gilbey and rolled his eyes heavenward.

Gilbey stifled a snort of laughter before vaulting off his horse to assist Gabriel. The rest of the men remained at the edge of the road, prohibiting any hopes of escape by the carriage driver, while protecting Gabriel's eventual egress.

"Come now, ladies, gents," Gabriel said with a bit more impatience.

He could barely contain himself at the reminder of touching Marisa's delicate skin, and her passionate responses. The thought of kissing her, and bringing her to culmination many times over, made him eager to bring an end to this robbery.

It also made it next to impossible to play the gallant, coaxing the frightened passengers as was his usual method. His days as a dashing highwayman were indeed drawing to a close if there was little left to entertain him during the larcenous proceedings.

"Perhaps I can provide you assistance in alighting from your carriage?"

Still there was no response to his generous invitation.

With a growl, Gabriel placed his boot on the carriage step. He braced his hands on both sides of the open door and peered inside.

"What can be the trouble—Careful now," Gabriel said. He backed out of the carriage, his hands raised on either side of his head.

He inched away from the traveling pistol pointed at his nose. The young man gripped the walnut stock, but his hand trembled, making Gabriel even more nervous as he stared down the brass barrels.

"Come, my good man, there is no need to be rash," Gabriel soothed. He shot a glance at the carriage driver, relieved to see the old man was not wielding a blunderbuss. "We shall go about our merry way, and you may do the same."

"I think not!" the young man croaked out, advancing on Gabriel. "Not while I have a notorious highwayman in my sights."

He was a mere schoolboy, sporting downy fuzz on his chin, as well as soft skin that many a matron would pay dearly to possess again. His dark eyes gleamed with excitement, but he licked his lips, nervous and not experienced enough to know what to do in such a situation.

Gabriel halted, exasperation roiling inside his chest. So he was to meet his Maker at the hands of an adolescent hell-bent on proving his manhood? Sweet Christ! Was there no end to the irony in his life?

He sensed rather than heard Gilbey moving to a more defensive position. Thankfully the lad knew what to do without being instructed. Gabriel began talking once more, hoping to distract the agitated hero.

"Laddie, what do you mean to do then? Shoot me in cold blood?" Gabriel saw the youth gulp and then tighten his grip on the pistol. "'Tis a messy business, shooting is, so it's important you decide first where it is you will aim."

Gabriel paused, as if considering all the possibilities. "Of course," he continued as though they were in the midst of a casual conversation, "it is easiest to aim for the stomach, since it is a fair-sized target. But it is a terribly slow form of death."

The young man's hand wavered for a brief moment.

"I know you would not wish to endure such agony," Gabriel said, "for you would be forced to wait by my side to ensure that I truly was dead."

The lad blanched, and Gabriel pressed his advantage. "And then there is always the head. A decidedly easy target," he added with a cheerful grin. "Yet, I must confess head wounds are my least favorite. For there is always the risk that death will not even occur, and the disfigurement that results is quite horrific."

The young man placed a hand to his stomach, as if the contents threatened to erupt at any moment.