Rogues Gallery (30 page)

"Gabriel," she said, stroking his hair, ever enthralled with the silky tresses.

"Yes, angel?"

"I wonder whether you felt pleasure. As I did."

His grin was a slow one. "Yes, indeed, I felt a great deal of pleasure."

"Yet, it must have been different than what I experienced," she continued.

"As it should be," he said with a kiss.

"Should you not writhe and scream as well?"

Her question caused Gabriel's arousal to react. Without saying a word, he lifted himself above her, pressing his hands to the bed beside her waist. She wrapped her legs around him and lured him deeper inside her. She began to slowly move beneath him, thrilled beyond measure when his eyes began to darken.

Soon she was breathing in the fevered rhythm of moments before, wanting nothing more than Gabriel driving into her time and again. When she felt the now-familiar tide of sensation threatening to sweep her away, she grasped his head, pulling him down for another open-mouthed kiss.

Her heart pulsed with love, a love so intense it could not be contained. As she fell through the stars once more, she gave her love to the man who had enriched her life beyond measure.

Moments later, Marisa somehow managed to pull the counterpane up about them. She snuggled against Gabriel, pressing a kiss to his sweat-slickened chest before falling into a deeply contented slumber.

***

G
abriel awoke with a start, gazing about wildly. A lacy white canopy hung overhead rather than the usual covering of stars. His heart hammered as he tried to remember where he was, and if he had foolishly left himself in an indefensible position.

Marisa nestled against his chest, and he relaxed, realizing with palpable relief where he was. With a rush of excitement, he also remembered why he was with her. Reflexively he drew Marisa closer.

He glanced at the candles, but they had not burned appreciably, so he had not slept for any length of time, perhaps an hour at most. From his state of arousal, it would appear he had merely dozed long enough to consider commencing anew the pleasurable activities that had sent him to sleep in the first place.

Before he could consider the delightful notion, however, his stomach growled.

Marisa stirred, mumbling in her sleep about Daphne's snoring.

Gabriel grinned and began to nibble on her ear, teasing her awake. "Madame Wife, I have a notion I wish to present to you."

"What might that notion be, husband?" Her eyes glistened with happiness, and it gratified him that he was its source.

"I am in need of sustenance." His stomach grumbled as if on cue. "But, alas, I see you have no edibles awaiting us."

"I shall speak to the staff about it first thing tomorrow." She yawned and then tried to nuzzle back against him.

Instead he leapt from the bed, holding his hand out for hers. With a curious tilt to her head, she placed her hand in his outstretched one, permitting him to assist her from the bed.

She looked down and saw the blood. "Gabriel! Your arm. You're bleeding!"

He gathered her into his arms, berating himself for not considering her worries before now. She had no female in her life to tell her what a wedding night entailed. He stifled an oath. Marisa might have gone to Edmund's bed, wildly unprepared.

"Ssh, 'tis nothing wrong," he reassured, shaken at the vision of Edmund cruelly initiating her into womanhood. "Indeed, it is a most glorious sign of the gift you have bestowed on your husband."

She dropped her head back to gaze at him. "This happens each time?"

"No, my angel. Only the first time." He squeezed her about the waist before whispering, "I shall prove it to you in just a moment."

She squealed before darting behind the dressing screen. Gabriel fetched a pitcher and poured some water into the basin. He handed it, along with a handkerchief he had found in her wardrobe, to Marisa where she continued to hide.

He washed himself with the remainder of the water, tossing it outside the window so there would be no evidence of the night's activity. With a curse, he remembered the sheets and their telltale evidence. Perhaps she could convince her maid her menses had commenced during the evening.

And perhaps he had ensured she would have none in the next months. He could not consider that possibility. His emotions were tangled enough as it was without dwelling on the notion of Marisa carrying his heir. How differently he felt about that prospect than he had just a few weeks ago.

Gabriel was dressed by the time Marisa peered around the changing screen, asking him to bring her a nightrail. He brought it to her, but said, "You must come out, angel, so that I may assist you." At her gasp, he added innocently, "I know you are accustomed to the assistance of a maid."

He waited, expecting it would take some more coaxing before she appeared. To his surprise, she boldly walked out and stood before him. He gazed at her before realizing her nakedness was causing his nether regions to stir in appreciation.

With a wistful sound, he pulled her nightrail over her head, covering the beautiful sight of her willingly-displayed body. He added her robe to the thin garment, pulling it close around her and then stooping to place her slippers on her feet.

When she raised her eyebrows at his attire, he quipped, "Quite similar to the night we were wed."

Her eyes widened when he checked his pistol before placing it in the waistband of his breeches. "Merely a precaution," he said. "Come, I am quite hungry."

"As well as quite mad," she added in a whisper. "My father is here, in this house."

"How fortunate, for I have yet to ask him for your hand in marriage."

***

I
n the hallway, Marisa felt her heart hammering with the same intensity as when Gabriel had made love to her. Her knees came close to buckling at that memory, and she tugged on Gabriel's hand, stopping to lean against the wall. Gabriel grinned and placed his finger to his lips in a signal for silence. When Marisa had recovered, she squeezed his hand, and he returned the gesture, leading them once more on their dangerous path.

For the first time she did not appreciate the distance of her wing from the remainder of the house, for it was clear Gabriel meant to go to the kitchens, a considerable distance away. Yet, at the same time, she felt the thrill of a forbidden activity, sweetened by the threat of being found out.

She tiptoed behind her daring highwayman—her husband, she exulted once more, her husband! She clutched his hand, knowing he would not risk her life or her safety. All of a sudden he pulled her close against him, and they splayed against the wall. She scarcely breathed, not knowing what had caused him to stop, yet aware he must have been alerted to something.

At last he placed his lips against her ear, and she shivered at the feel of his warm breath, as well as the enticement of his nearness. "Nothing to fear, angel. Just the sounds of the night." Before she could respond, they were once more on their way.

A lifetime later they reached the end of her wing. Marisa pulled on Gabriel's hand, but he had already moved to the left, precisely what she would have advised. How could he know the kitchens were that direction?

Before she could ponder it further, however, they had completed the long journey through the house and were descending into the lower areas. Marisa was curious as to the extent of Lord Westbrook's kitchens, certain from the wondrous food he served that they were incomparable.

Unfortunately, the room was pitch dark—until Gabriel found the candles and matches. Another puzzle. Once again, he distracted her before she could consider possible answers. He lit only two candles and placed them on a nearby counter. With unerring accuracy he located the larder and brought back numerous items that apparently had caught his fancy.

Marisa looked about for a tray, intent on taking the food back to her room. But her reckless husband had other ideas. He picked her up by the waist and sat her down on the large wooden work table, her feet dangling several inches from the floor. He popped a morsel of meat pie in her mouth, watching her chew it while he proceeded to devour the rest of the pastry.

"I apologize for the lack of brandy," he said, "though perhaps 'tis best that we only consume it in your chamber."

"Indeed."

The private picnic continued, all the more delightful for its surreptitious nature. Gabriel fed her morsels of food, and then demanded a kiss for payment. They giggled like children expecting to be caught, muffling their laughter to ensure they were not found out.

At last the feast was completed. Marisa held out her arms so Gabriel could assist her in descending from the table. Instead, he wrapped her arms about his neck, and drew close to her, standing between her thighs.

"Gabriel!"

He moved closer against her, and she gasped at the feel of his arousal between her legs. More than ever she wanted to return to her bedchamber. She wiggled forward so that she might jump down from the heavy table.

But Gabriel held her fast against him, assisted by her attempt at departure. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, yet with infinite care, he laid her back against the table. Marisa's eyes widened, her heart hammering at a breakneck pace.

He meant to have her on the table.

If she had had any doubts as to his intentions, he quickly dispelled them. He unfastened the front of his breeches and carefully lowered himself onto her. She gasped when he entered her, but he placed his lips against hers and whispered, "Do not do anything to give me away."

She nearly fainted at the words he had uttered upon entering her bed the very first time, when he had needed a hiding place. Only now the danger was so much more, and he knew it, judging from the sparkle in his eyes.

"It would be a much less difficult task if you did not make me scream so," she retorted, treasuring his swift intake of breath.

The table proved a less-than-comfortable surface, and her body was tender from their earlier lovemaking, but she scarcely noticed for the anticipation Gabriel produced in her. She pressed against him, urging him to hurry. But he shook his head. Instead he sheathed himself with slow, deliberate movements, holding her eyes with his, studying her reaction.

Marisa shuddered, unable to look away from him as the desire intensified, spurred on by the erotic effects of danger. Her heart pounded, certain they would be found out at any moment. Yet he gazed at her with utter fearlessness, informing her that her pleasure was worth any risk, even to his own safety.

She could not deny him, this reckless man she loved. Nor could she sustain the excitement he provoked in such tantalizing ways. The increased hazard of being discovered brought her to a quick, shattering release. Mercifully, Gabriel's followed soon after.

"We must return," Marisa urged. Gabriel grinned, refastening his breeches and then rearranging her clothing after removing her from the table. After discarding the remains of their feast, he retrieved his pistol and then snuffed both candles. He held her hand in his, and they waited until Gabriel's eyes had grown accustomed to the dark before setting out for the safe confines of her chamber.

The return trip should have been more frightening, now that she knew the danger it entailed, but Marisa was filled with a curious lassitude. It took all her strength to hold onto Gabriel's hand as he led her to her bed; indeed, all she could think on was the feather pillow beneath her head and the mattress cradling her tired body.

Gabriel attempted to carry her the last portion of their journey, but she shook her head, worried about reinjuring his wound. In return, he bestowed several grateful kisses upon her. She struggled to keep her eyes open, needing to talk to him about many things of great importance, and not wanting the wondrous evening to end. She soon found herself in her bed, waiting for Gabriel to join her, and she could not fight off sleep any longer.

***

"G
abriel!"

"Shush, Angel, I am still here." He cradled her in his arms and placed a kiss on her nose.

She sighed in relief that he had not yet departed, even knowing he would soon have no choice, for daybreak was only a couple of hours away. Despite his avowal and his demonstrations of love, she could not help but fear something would happen to him. She knew now just how dangerous his existence was, and fervently wished he could relinquish it.

"It is dangerous for you to stay."

His eyes were closed, but his lips tilted up in a satisfied smile. "Yes, but I am too exhausted to move." He opened one eye to peer at her. "I had no idea how tiring it would be to sate your passion."

She nipped at his chest.

He laughed, pulling her closer and kissing her in a tender fashion. "You have made me so happy, angel."

"Truly?"

"Beyond anything I could have imagined."

Marisa retreated slightly so that she could see into her husband's face. The firelight provided a small measure of illumination, not enough to prove intrusive, but just enough to make the bed seem like the cozy center of the world.

"I had begun to believe I should never have a marriage such as this."

Gabriel opened his eyes. "Why not?"

"Father had always told me I was the wickedest creature to walk the face of the earth, and that I was unable to inspire love in any man."

"It appears he was wrong." Gabriel pressed a kiss to her lips.

"I know that now. But I have spent a great deal of my life trying to prove him wrong, not knowing he was wrong anyway. Yet until you, there has been no one who has loved me."

He wrapped his arms about her in a protective cocoon. "For which I am decidedly grateful, Marisa. It has been difficult enough stealing you from your betrothed. I should not have liked to have done so from someone who had your heart."

Marisa peppered his bare chest with kisses. "Gabriel, you shall always have my heart. But I know so little about you, and I want to know everything."

"I have failed to satisfy your curiosity tonight, is that it?" he teased.

"Well, I have learned a great deal."

"And I hope there shall be plenty of days for attempting to satisfy your unending curiosity."