Finding Gabriel (33 page)

Returning home only half-complete had been the greatest challenge he’d ever faced. And now no comfort was to be found.

But Ariah was at last happy. Isn’t that what he’d always endeavored for? Pangs of jealousy oozed through his veins. Jacques gripped onto the counter’s edge, fought to regulate his breathing, and squeezed both eyes shut. He counted to ten before opening them again.

Inclining his chin, he scanned the row of miniatures. Various medical supplies cluttered the countertop. His eyes drew to the laudanum bottle and a self-deprecating laugh surfaced. In a harsh gesture, he collected it from the vanity, uncorked the lid, and downed a hearty swallow. Familiar relief dulled his senses in a matter of seconds. Then he shoved the remaining medical supplies aside, leaned against the wooden counter, and examined the miniatures one by one.

He fetched his own portrait from the vanity and slanted it toward the light. His weary features reflected in the broken glass. Jacques studied the overlapping images – his reflection and that of the miniature – with increasing despair. Light from the nearby whale oil lamp danced across the portrait and illuminated his misery. With a deep inhale, he settled the miniature against his palm and traced a finger over the fine hairline crack. The glass pierced his skin, and blood gathered on his fingertip. Jacques raised his hand, allowing the droplet to hang suspended from his finger. He watched with haunting intensity as it fell and splashed onto the miniature, blotting out his eternal, smiling features.

Was
this
what he’d become? Fractured, incomplete, and half-drowned in blood? When positioned in the right place, even a hairline crack could crumble a mountain range. And falling into madness wasn’t so different; you only needed a convincing, well-placed shove.

Keeping his head lowered at an angle, Gabriel murmured his gratitude as the barkeep filled his glass. As usual, he found himself entranced by Jacques’s gracious attitude and cool mannerisms. Up until moments ago, their conversation had been cordial enough; they’d debated politics, Napoleon Bonaparte, reminisced on notable victories, and shared the general unease that came with returning from the war. Jacques had relayed what he’d lived through the past four months with an admirable humor and mirth.

But something warned Gabriel it was all an act.

Indeed. A heavy silence took command as their pleasant camaraderie of only moments ago faded away. Tension thrummed and grew between them – as palpable as the very air they breathed. Jacques’s features flushed with anger, although he struggled to appear calm and collected. His grip on his drink threatened to shatter the glass in half. Then his jaw clenched – once, twice, three times – while a vein stirred to life in his neck.

His eyes slowly raised to Gabriel’s. Gabriel felt the scrutinizing burn of his comrade’s stare. Gaze never wavering, Jacques examined his every movement with a chilling intensity. Gabriel lifted the glass from the bar, moved it in steady circles, and swirled the liquid to life. Guilt spread through his body like an infection. He needed to suck the poison out, lest it drown him.

Seeking distraction, he permitted his eyes to roam the café. Few people were present at such an ungodly hour – yet everyone openly gawked at his facial scars. His rage came to a steady, rolling boil. He despised the pity in their eyes. He much rather preferred repulsion over pity.

Gabriel tipped the glass against his lips and downed a swig of brandy. It coated his throat in a slow, soothing burn, and some of the tension vanished. He cupped his palm over the glass when the barkeep attempted to refill the drink. Alas, as a reformed addict, he should have never allowed himself the indulgence of even a taste – but the pressure of Jacques’s return had been too severe.

“Do you love her?”

Jacques’s inquiry emerged from the silence. Gabriel lowered the glass onto the tabletop, almost in slow motion, as he rifled for the right words. He evaded the question as best he could while simultaneously speaking the truth. “I care for her … very much so – and I would do anything to protect her. But – ”

“She loves you.” Jacques interjected before he could finish. Then he hesitated and stroked the curve of his chin. “Naturally, she tried to hide it from me – but Ariah has always been a terrible liar.” Shaking his head, he surrendered to a humorless smirk and sipped at his brandy.

Gabriel’s pulse quickened. He absently traced the glass’s rim in contemplative circles and stared into the amber liquid. He shifted on the barstool as the words arose. “She rescued me from the brink of death.” The memories poured through his consciousness, and a stiff breath hitched inside his throat. Gabriel chanced a look at Jacques. Both of his hands were pushed together in the form of a steeple. He leaned in close, those green eyes wide and attentive, and brushed a stray hair strand from his gaze. Such impeccable focus jarred Gabriel.

“She pulled me from the Seine and welcomed me into her home.” The words streamed from Gabriel’s lips and soul. He was unable to stop them – unable to stop the avalanche of emotion. And they sounded very much like a confession. “Even through the haze of fever, the delusions and agonizing pain … I can recall those nights. I can still feel the warmth of her body. Can still hear the gentle rhythm of her voice as she soothed me from the darkness. She sang me a lullaby, dampened my brow with a cloth … and never once left my side …” His speech faded into silence. Gabriel cursed himself and scrubbed a hand over his gnarled face. He hadn’t meant to say such things – but the memories had seized hold. He silently cursed himself, threw back his brandy, and gazed at Jacques from his peripheral vision. Jacques’s head was angled at a low slant, and both hands clenched the glass in a lethal hold.

Gabriel had betrayed Jacques in more ways than one. He’d betrayed an old friend, his comrade – a man who’d endured monumental grief and heartache.

Jacques loosened his grasp, leaned back, and surrendered to a sigh. He drummed his fingertips on the countertop; the repetitive melody seemed to have a calming effect. When he at last spoke, his voice was riddled with agony, the words barely above a whisper. “I imagine it would be impossible not to fall in love with such a woman. I would know. I’ve loved her since I was a boy – since I first saw her standing behind the counter of her father’s shop. She was a tenacious, spirited, little thing. Still is.” Gabriel swallowed and met his comrade’s unwavering stare. Jacques searched his eyes, missing nothing … extracting unspoken truths. “Tell me the way of it, comrade to comrade: you and Ariah are in love.”

Pulse racing, Gabriel traced the glass’s lips and allowed the silence to speak.

•

Gabriel lurked in front of the blazing hearth as he absorbed its warmth. Anguish shot through his body, and his heart pinched with a nauseating force. He knew exactly what had to be done. And it would surely kill him.

He clenched onto the mantel as his legs buckled. His nails tore at the surface, embedding the wood with long scratch marks. Each breath made his head spin and lungs constrict with painful spasms. Tears he refused to shed welled in his eyes as he imagined a life without Ariah, Emmaline, and Miriam.

Dieu,
how he loved her.

He gazed at his portrait from his peripheral vision. Memories of that night swarmed through him until he could scarcely hold himself upright. Breathless, he collapsed to his knees and allowed the flames to bathe his skin. But no warmth was to be found.

The truth was a knife to his throat. He’d outstayed his welcome. By some miracle, Jacques had returned home – and Gabriel had no right to be here beneath his comrade’s roof, lusting after his wife. Sharp pangs of guilt twisted his gut and impaled his heart. Mind racing, Gabriel trailed his fingertips over the uneven half of his face while the opposite hand fiddled with his signet ring.

This was no longer his home. And now Colonel Gabriel de Laurent would make the greatest sacrifice of all.

•

Ariah stood beneath the immeasurable night sky as she admired the breathtaking view. She lost herself within the constellations, allowing those luxurious diamond strands to coil around her heart. Numberless stars reflected within the Seine’s glassy surface and set the water afire. Breathing deeply, Ariah reached out and folded her hands atop the stone balustrade.

This is where she’d found him. Her heart picked up speed as memories of that fateful night invaded her mind and body. Down below, water lapped against the embankment and infused the atmosphere with a soothing lull. A flashback of Gabriel’s motionless form materialized within the shadows … and Ariah’s chest constricted as she relived his every kiss and touch.

Then –

A gentle pressure whispered against her back. Gabriel’s unique aroma filled her spirit while strong arms enfolded her from behind. Somehow, some way, she’d known he’d be here tonight.

She sighed deeply and relaxed within his protective embrace. One hand lost itself in her curls and delicately sifted through the strands; the other applied subtle pressure to the base of her spine in a ghostlike caress. Breathless and at peace, she spiraled into a decadent trance. She drank in each sensation … the mesmerizing caress of his fingertips against her scalp, the wind’s crisp breath, the Seine’s haunting lamentations …

Gabriel brushed away the swarm of curls, exposing her ear to the night, and breathed against the fine cartilage. This was the moment she’d feared for weeks – the moment of their parting. Then he sang to her – his voice rich, warm, and sultry, and all other thoughts fell away.

“
The gentle breath of winter sings,

It cools my brow and furls my wings.

And when the dusk at last descends,

I shall keep my hope, steel my heart, for never will thy love depart.

Now you are come all my grief is gone,

Let us forget those nights that never dawned.”

The rich cadence of his voice seduced her into calmness. Fighting to hold back tears, she rotated in his arms, never once leaving the security of his embrace. Indeed, she’d stay with him until the very end – and they wouldn’t part a moment sooner. She tilted her chin up and met his expressive gaze. The nearby oil lamp shone brightly behind Gabriel, silhouetting his strained features. She directed his body to the side, needing to see his eyes, directing the shadows from his face.

“You remember.”

Gabriel shook his head while a riot of emotions crossed his features. “I shall never forget.”

“Oh, Gabriel … I – ”

“Shh,” he murmured against the rim of her ear.

Ariah relaxed as his arms wound about her waist and reeled her to his chest. He tentatively swayed on his booted heels, rocking her back and forth within the security of his arms. Closing both eyes, she nestled against the planes of his chest, never wanting the moment to end. She raised her left arm and wedged her hand between their entwined bodies. She pressed her palm flat against his heartbeat and lost herself within the comforting rhythm. Her curls stirred, manipulated by his labored breaths. Then he leaned in close and whispered into her ear once more: “I love you, Ariah. I love you more than I could ever say.”

She swallowed and gazed up at him. Shared tears glittered in his eyes as he balled a hand into a fist. He ran those callused, scarred knuckles across her cheek, warming her with his gentle touch.

Barely able to breathe, she spoke from the very depths of her soul, her eyes never parting from his own. “I love you. I have loved you for weeks now. I – ”

Their mouths crashed together in a movement neither of them was able to control. Air gushed from her lungs as Gabriel pressed her firmly against his body and melded them as one. The uneven flesh of his lips brushed insistently, invadingly, against her own, demanding complete surrender. Strong, masculine hands fisted in her hair as his mouth consumed her with ardent fervor.

She grew heady, weak at the knees. The kiss was bruising. Unyielding and desperate. Their tongues dueled an erotic tango. Murmuring into her mouth, he slanted his face and deepened their kiss to impossible limits. He possessed her. Drank in her very spirit. She yielded to the passionate onslaught, surrendering mind, body, and soul – if only for this moment.

It seemed that Gabriel was lost to a primitive hunger … a hunger to claim what was rightfully his. He ravished her without restriction, allowing his darker side – the side she’d fallen for nearly a month prior – to take over. He kissed her with purpose, with every grain of passion, branding her forever.

He kissed her with the intention of winning her soul.

Ariah took a small step backward and raked a hand down his tattered coat. He groaned inside her mouth as she continued moving southward. Her fingers blindly skimmed the various military decorations, moving from one to another. “My hero …”

“Yours,” came his throaty reply, “only and always yours.”

A million things burned to be said. A million regrets, shared confessions, and eternal vows. And yet Gabriel and Ariah elected silence and touch.

Mind spinning, she continued the restless perusal – claiming her prize straight through the material of his trousers. She curved her palm and molded it around his hard length, caressing him with explorative, varied movements. He detached his mouth from hers, simultaneously grinding his hips against the pressure of her hand. His neck slouched forward, and his face fell into her curls.

“
Mon Dieu,”
he moaned, speaking against her neck. “More …” The word was brusque and guttural – uttered with the fearlessness of a true commander.

Ariah obliged without thought and increased the tension. Digging into the trousers’ coarse material, her fingers coiled around his manhood and moved up and down in spherical motions. In the same breath, his lips ghosted across her neck and summoned powerful currents down the length of her spine. His tongue slid over her skin in tantalizing circular motions – pausing only to tease at her throbbing pulse. He nibbled tenderly, branding her flesh with gentle bites. Then he raised his chin several centimeters and hissed into the hollow of her ear. Grasping tighter, she alternated between circular motions and long, slow, vertical caresses. Her efforts were rewarded with a chorus of guttural moans and whispered endearments. Needing more – needing Gabriel free of barriers – Ariah’s opposite hand skimmed his waistline.

She blindly sought the clasps of his trousers. Echoed passion flamed in his eyes. Never letting up on her sensual movements, she undid each hook – and Ariah sensed as his last resolve crumbled away.

Now
she
was the commander.

Her hand wedged inside the trousers and he jumped to life in her palm – pulsating, throbbing, expanding. She enveloped him completely, claiming him with her moist hand. Like hot, freshly forged steel, he thickened against her skin and grew impossibly rigid.

Ariah worshiped every centimeter of him as her fingers twisted up and down in firm, calculating strokes. He bucked against her hand while his breathing grew rigid and irregular. Feminine pride swelled in her spirit. Connected to him in this primal way, everything outside of her love and desire went forgotten. For the moment, only she, Gabriel, and their mutual affection existed.

She observed as his eyes hooded in acute pleasure. Then he leaned against the stone balustrade and glanced about, confirming they were alone. Not a person was in sight – the only signs of civilization were puffs of chimney smoke against the gilded horizon.

With a muttered curse Gabriel leaned forward and bunched the material of her skirts in one hand. He hiked them up in a fluid motion, exposing her scantily clad thighs to the elements. In a flash of realization, Ariah acknowledged that she’d left the dagger at home in her dresser drawer, entirely forgotten …

The crisp night air tightened her skin, causing gooseflesh to spread over her body. His touch alleviated the coldness, replacing it with mesmerizing swirls of heat. She glanced down as his hands worked their exquisite magic. She saw herself then, standing by the River Seine, her cheeks flushed with pleasure, pressed against Gabriel’s massive body …