Her Every Pleasure (7 page)

Next, she came across a colorful regimental flag…and at the very bottom of the trunk, hidden away as if they were something to be ashamed of, she found medals for valor and bravery.

Gabriel opened his eyes, sensing a presence nearby. He listened sharply with battle-honed senses, then relaxed.
No. Not a threat.
He had been in a deep state of rest but not sleeping, trying to summon up a meditative mood of peace.

With night coming on, it was harder to locate, especially now. Thoughts of the girl he had found in his barn had plagued him all day, her beauty awakening a hunger within him. In an effort to ignore his body’s craving, he had worked too hard and had strained his middle a bit, where the muscles of his abdomen had only just knit themselves back together again after months of careful tending. God, for as long as he lived, however short, admittedly, that might be, he would never forget the moment he had looked down and found himself impaled by a Maratha arrow.

He should be dead.

But he wasn’t. No, he wasn’t…

And he had not made love to a woman since he had made his fleeting visit to the world beyond the grave.

Which was exactly why Derek had sent Sophia to him. His body ached at the thought of her. Lovely Sophia.

Tempting Sophia.

Naughty, wayward Sophia, he mused, for it was at that moment that he saw her in the reflection of the mirror over the fireplace.

Never one to let his guard down, he had angled the tub so that even when he was doing his best to unwind, he could still see into the adjoining room by the judicious placement of mirrors. Just in case of any threat.

Old habits died hard.

Leaning forward silently in his bathing tub, careful not to stir the water, he glanced through the open doorway at the mantelpiece mirror. The reflection bounced off that of the cheval glass…and there was his lovely Gypsy girl.

Robbing him, it would seem.

Gabriel’s face darkened; he reached for a towel.

CHAPTER
         FOUR         

B
ending over his open traveling trunk, Sophia was still marveling over her discoveries about her new employer. Dazzled, she hefted the weight of a chunky silver war medal in her palm, then traced her fingertip over the elaborate wreath that ringed it. Oh, how she could have used someone like him on her quest to take back her country.

No mercy,
indeed.

With a battle-hardened warrior like this by her side, she was sure that the foes who had ambushed her carriage last night would think twice about ever attacking her again!

Shaking her head in awe at the evidence of his deeds, she started to put the medal back where she had found it, when all of a sudden, a steely hand clamped down on her arm. She let out a shriek and shot to her feet as Gabriel pulled her away from his things.

“What are you doing?” he barked as he spun her around to face him. His hold on her shifted to the other arm, but when Sophia saw him, she blinked: He was wearing a towel and a furious glower, and loomed over her like an angry god.
“Answer me!”

She gulped and tried to back away, but he would not let go of her, his grip on her wrist like an iron manacle.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing in here?” he repeated in obvious outrage.

“N-nothing, I-I—” His nakedness and his towering size reduced her to flustered stammering. “Mrs. Moss told me to clean your room!”

Oh, God. She was perfectly mortified.

His eyes narrowed to cobalt slits in the deepening gloom of his chamber; she was caught in that blue, piercing stare. “Empty your pockets,” he ordered.

“What?”

“You heard me! Empty your pockets—
now
!”

Sophia shrank from the angry warrior. Did he really have to be so scary about this?

Still holding her by one wrist, Gabriel flicked his fingers impatiently at her, then held out his palm. “Hurry up. Whatever you’ve taken, just hand it over and leave.”

“Taken?” she breathed.
Leave?

He shook his head at her in scorn. “You’re really something, you know that? I try to help you, and this is how you repay me?”

Good God! she thought as the full brunt of his accusation sank in. She was guilty of prying, but the Princess Royal of Kavros was hardly a thief!

Oh, it was too lowering.

On the other hand, she could understand why he would jump to such a conclusion. Her heart sank. This did not look good at all.

She wished she could tell him her true name so he would know she had no need to steal, but protocol forbade it, and besides, if she tried to claim now that she was bona fide royalty, he would think that she was insane.

“Well?” he demanded. “Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

Tongue-tied with embarrassment, she let out a queenly huff. After all, she was hardly accustomed to having to explain herself to anyone, let alone a commoner and a soldier in a towel.

“You are mistaken,” she clipped out.

“Oh, really? Then what were you doing?”

“Cleaning.”

“Right.”

“Very well. Snooping. I admit it, I was interested in you. That’s not a crime, as far as I know.”

“Well, well,” he murmured, moving closer. “And are you satisfied with what you learned?”

“No,” she replied with a haughty toss of her chin. “I have many more questions.”

“A pretty attempt at evasion,” he whispered. “But I don’t believe you.”

“Are you calling me a liar?” she exclaimed.

“Aye,” he said, “and a thief.”

“You blackguard,” she growled at him.

She lifted her chin; he narrowed his eyes.

“You don’t want to see me angry, Sophia.”

“Ha! You already are, Mr. Saint.”

“No, I’m not. But I am losing patience,” he warned, which only escalated her taunting.

“What are you going to do to me, Major? Reach for your saber and lop off my head?”

“Oh, you are an impertinent wench.” Gabriel stared at her, amazed. Damn her, he had put the reminders of his past away for a reason and did not want anyone dragging it all out into the open again.

He needed no help in triggering the memories of how dark and violent he had been in his former career. But he was different now.

At least that’s what he had to believe.

And look at her! he thought, astounded. He had never seen such audacity. How dare this little servant girl stand up to him with such cheeky defiance after he had caught her red-handed, rifling through his personal effects?

He did not believe her lies at all. She was just trying to squirm out of her obvious guilt by some quick thinking. No doubt she had been trying to decide which items would bring the best profit at some London pawnshop.

Lord, I was a fool to let this lawless hoyden into my house.
The worst part was, he knew exactly why he had done it. Her dark beauty had bewitched him—and God help him, he wasn’t immune to her even now. Lust pounded in his brain right along with his fury.

It made him extra wary of her.

Sophia glanced down, supremely unintimidated by his wrath, never mind that back in the regiment, he had been known to reduce grown men to quivering heaps of terror when he was displeased. “What happened to you?” she demanded, nodding at his scar.

“None of your damned business, my love—and changing the subject won’t save your pretty hide. Now, are you going to turn out your pockets, or shall I do it for you?” He did not wait for an answer but yanked her to him, pulling her off balance.

She gasped as the sudden tug brought her crashing against his chest. Hooking his arm around her waist, Gabriel held her to him. He stared down into her eyes, searingly attuned to her soft body crushed against him. His heart pounded. She gazed up at him in speechless shock as he thrust his right hand down into the pocket of her plain skirts. He felt around inside of it for contraband.

The pocket was empty, but Gabriel lost his train of thought, his male senses suddenly distracted when his hand, cloaked in fabric, brushed against her shapely thigh.

The outer edges of his control had already begun to fray; boldly, he molded his hand against her leg, giving in to the blinding urge to feel her.

His rude advance infuriated her; he was glad.

“Let go of me!” she ordered, struggling against him, but Gabriel held her fast, brushing his lips against her neck with a dark laugh.

“You don’t like playing by the rules, do you, my Gypsy girl? But if you’re going to misbehave, you’re going to have to take the consequences.”

“I haven’t done anything wrong!” She pushed against his chest and shoulders, trying to loosen his tight hold on her. “Unhand me now!” she roared, but the way she was squirming against his body roused a starved moan from the core of his being. Her thrashing motions had him feverishly rethinking his monkish decision not to take her.

Ah, God, he needed it so badly.

“Let me go, I say! I did not steal
anything
from you!”

“Maybe I’ll steal something from you,” he ground out in a ragged whisper. “You call me a saint? You are so wrong.” He bent his head lower and nuzzled her throat. Unable to resist, he parted his lips and tasted the warm salt silk of her skin.

She let out a soft groan; he could feel her melting against him in spite of herself. “Is that really necessary?” she asked through gritted teeth.

“More than you know,” he panted as he captured her face and tilted her head back. The lure of her lips was more than he could bear.

Holding her soft curves against him, he could feel her pulse pounding in time with his own; his whole body throbbed as he cupped her nape and captured her lips with his own. She stiffened and tried to turn away, but he followed hungrily, and when he sought her mouth again, this time, seeing, perhaps, that she could not escape, or perhaps giving way to the curiosity he knew they both felt, she gradually yielded.

Playing reticent as a virgin, she forced him to coax her lips apart by the softest stroking with the tip of his tongue.
Coy for a harlot,
he thought. No doubt still rattled about being caught trying to steal from him, but no matter. She was not going to get away with anything with him, and at the moment, he rather liked her little game.

His heart slammed behind his ribs as she finally obliged him, letting him in to taste her womanly heat.

Gabriel groaned as he kissed her more deeply, his own reservations fading into oblivion. He felt her palms molding over his shoulders. She clung to him, all unsteady with their mutual passion that was spiraling swiftly out of control. His body clamored for release.

Feasting on her mouth, Gabriel quivered as her hands inched slowly down his bare chest. Then she began exploring his arms so hesitantly, as if she had never touched a man before. God, she was driving him mad. His brother must have tipped the girl off on exactly how to seduce him; he must have warned her not to come on too strong with Gabriel after his long abstinence, and once more, Derek was right.

If she had been all over him like the sort of women he was used to, he would have found her so much easier to resist. Instead, her tentative approach made him ache. Her slow exploration had him quivering with impatience to feel those soft, sweet hands all over him.

He had sworn to himself he’d resist her, but what was the point? What was he trying to prove? He could no longer remember. There was only her beauty, her fire, her taste.

A chap was entitled to change his mind now and then, was he not?

Desperately eager to lose himself in sensuality with her, he was rock-hard, indeed, quite in danger of losing his towel, but he couldn’t care less. His blood surged as he ravished her willing mouth; it was wonderful.

He felt alive again, and he wanted her.

His bed nearby seemed to beckon. Still lost in kissing her, he began moving her gently toward it.

Sophia had lost all memory of how they had gone from fighting to this.

Her fevered trance was too deep to keep track of such petty details as Gabriel’s delicious tongue swirled in her mouth. His steely arms were wrapped around her, his hands traveling up and down her back, her waist, her hair. Her duty, the danger, her quest were all forgotten in the scandalous joy of his kiss.

The feel of his skin was so beautiful under her palms, with its kid-leather texture, still slightly damp from his bath, growing warmer; she could feel his temperature rising as she stroked him. Every inch of Gabriel Knight brought her greater pleasure.

His arms were outrageous, muscled with bulging curves of smooth stone—magnificent shoulders—and,
ah, God,
his sculpted chest.

She wanted to kiss him everywhere, but for now, she contented herself with caressing him. No, she could never get bored of that, and he certainly seemed to enjoy it.

Once more, she traced her trembling fingers along the line of his thick, sturdy collarbones, and then, down, through the crisp, light furring of hair on his chest. He growled with pleasure against her mouth as her hand glided tenderly over the swell of each pectoral muscle to play with the sweet little nub of each manly nipple.

Wobbly-kneed with desire, she was aware of his raging erection throbbing against her stomach. The layers of her gown and the towel still wrapped around his waist could not disguise the mighty evidence of his want. It made her a little nervous, admittedly. At the back of her mind, she supposed she was playing with fire.

Unfortunately, her powers of reason had fled—until the moment she realized that Gabriel was shepherding her oh-so-adroitly toward his bed.

When it dawned on her what he had in mind, she planted her feet on the ground and tore her lips away from his, coming suddenly back to her senses.

Good God, what am I doing?
This could not happen. Where was her brain?

“What’s the matter, angel?” Gabriel murmured with a steamy half smile.

“I can’t do this!” she gasped out, still panting.

He touched her cheek, his gaze full of hazy-eyed need. “Of course you can.”

“No—I can’t.”

“Why not?” His eyes had darkened to midnight blue; his lips still shone with the wetness of her kisses.