The Elusive Lord Everhart: The Rakes of Fallow Hall Series (25 page)

“Because I knew my life would end if I loved you completely and then lost you.” The low intensity of his voice held her captive.

One after the other, he lifted her hands to his shoulders and then slid his own around her waist. “I watched it happen to my father—the life draining out of him. He merely exists now. Yes, he’s made a life with Agnes, and they are cordial to each other, but I remember what he was like when he loved my mother. She was the light of his world—his sun in the morning sky; his moon and starlight in the evening. She was everything to him. Growing up, I feared that kind of love as much as I longed for it.”

Gabriel brushed her cheek. Only then did Calliope realize that tears were falling. “And she was his friend too.”

“Yes.” Which was why Gabriel never had any women friends.

Finally, she understood. To witness such a loss as a boy, all the while feeling his own, had changed him. On the outside, Gabriel appeared as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Yet on the inside lived a man afraid of the misery that only losing someone you love could cause.

Tenderly, he kissed her brow, her temple, the bridge of her nose. “When I first saw you, I suddenly knew that love would be the same for me. That’s why I tried so hard to deny it.”

It felt so natural to be in his arms that it didn’t feel like self-betrayal. It felt like she’d always belonged here.

But why did it have to take him so long to come to this realization? “Five years, Everhart. Five
very
long years. And you’d turned so cold to me before you disappeared from my life.”

“After I’d written those other letters to keep you from discovering my identity, a . . .
friend
helped me understand how deeply I’d wronged you.” He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against hers. “At the time, I’d made a choice to stay away from you. I thought you would marry a man more deserving. Yet even then, the thought of not seeing you for six weeks had driven me mad. So I followed your family to Bath. I had to be near you. Now, five years later, those feelings are just as strong. No—
stronger
.”

Calliope felt as if the earth had suddenly slipped from beneath her feet. Instinctively, she gripped his shoulders. “How can I believe you?”

“Trust your heart.” Gabriel brushed a kiss over her lips.

Unable to help herself, she kissed him in return, sliding her hands to the back of his neck. “A fanciful notion, to be sure.”

He took her face in his hands, beseeching her forgiveness with his earnest gaze. “I regret not coming forward back then. I regret not saving you from heartache
before
I caused it. Most of all, I regret not marrying you that very first day.”

Her breath rushed past her lips. “Married on that first day? I’ve heard it takes at least four to travel to Gretna Greene.”

“Then we would have been married on the fourth day, but no later.”

He said it with such certainty that it was impossible not to believe him.

“Do you know how many novels I’ve read, trying to forget the words you placed inside my heart?” Her attempt at scolding him was likely undermined by the way she fitted her body against his. “Enough to fill a very large library.”

“I will build you the grandest library you’ve ever seen.” He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for her next response.

It suddenly occurred to her that her life was about to change. “Be warned, Everhart, I will hold you to that.”

He kissed her suddenly, deeply, binding their agreement. The long-denied passion surged through her, washing away all doubt and filling her with a ravenous, consuming need. Wanting more of him, she slid her tongue against his, tasting the tang of whiskey. The kiss turned urgent.

Breathless, she didn’t want it to end. Rising up on her toes, she moved against him to ease the sudden ache in her breasts. His hands drifted over her back, tugging. In the next instant, she felt her gown loosen and hang on her shoulders.

On a gasp, she lifted her gaze to his.

He grinned in response. His skillful hands splayed out, touching the bare flesh between her shoulders, and then slipped downward. Drawing her hips flush with his, his thick arousal was evident, his intention clear. He meant to make love to her. Here. Now. “As you said, it’s been five
very
long years. I cannot leave you with a modicum of doubt.”

“What about the wager?”

Gabriel held her gaze. “I will risk everything for you, Calliope.”

Five long years
. And the waiting was over. She answered him with another kiss, drawing his lower lip in her mouth. He growled deep in his throat.

Her hips arched against his, sliding against the hard ridge of his erection. Through the layers of her clothing, Gabriel’s hands brushed, stroked, and kneaded in ways that not even her vivid imagination could have conjured. Her hands clenched fistfuls of his linen shirt. A tiny cry escaped her—half pleasure, half need. Pure, wanton hunger. The kind that led innocent characters into ruin.

At last, she understood why.

Impatient, she lowered her arms to her sides so that her dress slipped free. The heavy brocade collapsed to the floor. Wasting no time, Gabriel unfastened the buttons of her petticoat, and before she could draw another breath, it too was on the floor. Her stays were next, followed by her chemise, until she stood before him in nothing more than her stockings and slippers.

Strangely, she didn’t feel bare at all. Instead, she was blanketed by the desire in his gaze. Her body responded in kind, her skin drawing taut over her breasts, an urgent heat pulsing deep within her.

“My love, you are indeed a siren.” He drew her forward, his hands stroking and kneading without any layers between them.
Sweet heaven
.

Quivering, her bones turned liquid. She didn’t think she’d be able to stand for long. Not surprisingly, Gabriel seemed to sense this and gently coaxed her down onto the curved chaise. Bending over her, he kissed her tenderly and removed the combs from her hair.

“I have one more confession to make,” he whispered, distracting her with the brush of his lips across her jaw, her throat, and to the curve of her shoulder. “My fascination with an expedition to South America is solely because of this.”

She tilted her head, watching him trace the rosy blemish near the outside corner of her breast. “My birthmark?”

Dipping his head, he traced the imperfection with his tongue. “
Mmm
. It is shaped like the South American continent and, as I always suspected, tastes exotic on your flesh. It sets my mind to exploration, my love.”

Before she could respond, he drew her taut nipple into his mouth. On a gasp, she arched off the chaise, her spine bowing in supplication.

Gabriel hauled her to him, lifting her, feasting on her flesh. The back of her neck lay over the upper curve of the chaise, her body positioned for his appetite. Burrowing her fingers through the thick layers of his hair, she held him to her breast; she held him as his exploration ventured down the valley between her ribs; she held him as his tongue dipped into her navel; and she held him when he set his mouth to her most intimate recesses.

Calliope’s lips parted, but no sound emerged. She was lost. Gabriel was her guide on this journey, and she trusted him to know the way. Raising her arms, she gripped the curve of the chaise above her head with both hands, holding on as her body began to tremble. Her eyes drifted closed. He nudged her legs wider with his shoulders. His hands slid beneath her, lifting her hips, laving her. Like the sea in a storm, an overwhelming pressure built within her, rising.

Relentless, his tongue swirled inside her and then slowly licked upward, flicking over the tight nub of flesh. A string of gasps and moans poured from her lips and throat as he devoured her. Waves crashed over her. She cried out. Her body spasmed, hips jolting, arching, quaking . . . while the sound of her ecstasy echoed down around her.

Gabriel lifted his gaze and gave her one last slow lick. Through the window, moonlight glanced off the wetness glistening on his lips and chin. With a rakish grin, he wiped his hand across his mouth and then licked his fingers. “You taste like an exotic fruit, my love. Luscious, ripe, and delectably wet.”

It was impossible not to blush. And in the next moment, she had even more of a reason to do. Her Casanova stood and stripped out of his shirt, before bending over to strip out of his stockings. Then he stood before her, unbuttoning the fall of his breeches, inviting her to look her fill.

And she did.

“You’re”—
beautiful, exquisite, godlike
—“naked,” she said on a breath.

Gabriel flashed a grin. Her gaze roamed over his finely chiseled form, from the breadth of his shoulders to the expanse of golden hair dusting his chest. Those golden hairs narrowed into a line over the ridges of his stomach and down past his navel. From there, the color darkened and . . .

She swallowed, her gaze riveted to the most masculine part of him jutting forth proudly. It was less a
blade of ruination
, and more a
broadsword of destruction
.

Good heavens!
She gulped down a bubble of nervous laughter at the turn of her thoughts. For the first time, a wave of trepidation washed over her. Looking down at herself, she realized she was still wantonly draped before him, legs apart, feet dangling off either side of the chaise.

Gabriel knelt between her thighs and moved over her, slowly, as if he sensed her wariness. The heat of his body covered her. The hair on his chest and abdomen brushed her stomach and breasts, teasing her sensitive nipples into tiny aching points.

“My love,” he murmured against her lips. “Open your eyes.”

When had she closed them?
Likely when you saw his broadsword
, her inner narrator taunted with an uncharacteristically saucy laugh.

Calliope opened her eyes and was instantly captivated by the intensity in his blue-green depths. Only now did she truly recognize what she’d seen all along. He loved her. Completely.

Lifting her hands to his face, she pressed a tender kiss to his lips and then held his gaze. “I have something I need to confess.”

“Right now?”

Under different circumstances, she would have laughed at his look of total bewilderment. But this was too important to leave unsaid. “I look over the last page of every book before I decide to read it.”

Gabriel smiled down at her, brushing a wayward lock of hair from her forehead. “I know. You like to know what to expect. And right now . . . you are uncertain of the next page.”

“Yes,” she admitted.

He pressed his lips to hers and shifted so that she could feel the heated length of him against her stomach. “If you like, I will tell you everything that is about to happen in detail.”

She nodded, and he settled his mouth next to her ear. His warm breath teased while he proceeded to tell her everything he would do, in extremely vivid detail, until she was writhing beneath him.

“Please,” she begged, breathless, unable to take the torment.

Positioned on the chaise, they were flush, with nothing between them. Bracing his foot on the floor beside, Gabriel lifted her leg to his hip. The searing heat of him settled against her dampness. Her body pulsed in anticipation. Then slowly, he nudged inside and then stilled.

His staggered breath fanned her lips. “For five years, I’ve imagined you like this.”

He moved again. Another nudge, deeper this time. And when he stilled again, she marveled at the rapid pulse of his body inside her. It matched the beat of his heart.

Cupping her hands to his face and overwhelmed by the love she felt, she kissed him. Gabriel groaned into her mouth as if in surrender. He drove forward, filling her, stretching her. She gasped, more startled than in pain. Her body strained to accommodate him, burning at her core. She wanted to welcome him, but instead felt too full.

But then Gabriel kissed her again. Sweetly. Tenderly. Whispering endearments against her lips. His hands caressed her legs, her hips, her breasts. Gradually, her body stretched to embrace him.

He moved against her. Inside her. Withdrawing only to sheath himself again. And this time it was different. With each slow thrust, the utter fullness elicited wondrous sensations. Tingles rushed through her. Entranced by this change, she lifted her other leg to his hip and circled his waist.

Gabriel smiled, but his gaze was feral and dark onyx. Intense. Determined. He shifted over her, devouring her mouth as he drove deeper, faster. “You are
mine
, Calliope. Always.”

She agreed. Opening her mouth, she prepared to amend his declaration by stating the same about him, but her breath caught in her lungs. A fierce tide of pleasure crashed over her. Her breasts tightened, firmed. The hair on his chest grazed her nipples, making them ache. Her body clenched around him, seizing. At any moment, she feared she would splinter.

And then she did. She broke apart like a ship against the rocks. Her body quaked, rising up against his. A cry tore from her throat. Her hips jerked against his, shuddering. Another tide washed over her. Pleasure. Love. Ecstasy. Gabriel pushed forward once more, his hips jolting as a harsh, soul-deep groan ripped through him.

S
hortly before dawn, Calliope collapsed over Gabriel. Her face nestled into the curve of his neck as she panted for air. “I believe we could write a very naughty book about pleasure after last night.”

Gabriel barely had the energy to chuckle. His arms lay at his side on their makeshift bed on the loft floor. He was utterly spent and had never realized such bliss was possible. Even
he
felt as if they’d invented the art of making love, in ways that no one could have imagined before. It was all so new and unexpected. “Were we to travel to India, I could show you that such a book already exists and contains even more than what were able to accomplish.”

She lifted her face, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright. “There’s more?”

“I will show you, but you must allow me time to recuperate. The day, at least,” he said with a kiss. “As for later this morning, I will arrange for my carriage to follow yours to Scotland. There, I will speak with your brother for his consent, travel to Bath for your father’s consent, and then return so we can be married in Gretna Green.”