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“Whatever.”

His mouth twitches. “You would sleep on the floor.”

“Next to you? Absolutely.”

He looks at me as if I’ve handed him something fragile and priceless.

I get his shirt off. And holy hell. I’ve seen it before. Many times now. It doesn’t matter. The man is ridiculous. All broad shoulders and hard muscle and warm skin.

I run my hands over his chest.

He draws in a sharp breath. “April.”

“Hmm?”

“You’re making it very difficult to think.”

“Good.”

He laughs. Then kisses me again. And this time, when he stands with me in his arms, I don’t protest. I simply wrap my legs around his waist.

“Where are we going?”

“My bedroom.”

I grin. “Presumptuous.”

“Would you prefer the library rug? I’m told it has sentimental value.”

I glance at the rug, then back at him.

“Actually, a bed sounds great!”

“Excellent.”

Gabriel’s bedroom is at the end of the east hall.

I finished it last week. New mattress. Clean linens. The enormous four-poster bed polished until the walnut glows. I told myself I was doing it because it was on the renovation list.

I was lying.

He kicks the door shut behind us and sets me on my feet beside the bed. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, silver across the floorboards. Somewhere in the distance, thunder grumbles.

For a moment, he just looks at me. He lifts his hands to my face and kisses me like he has all the time in the world. Slow and deep and achingly thorough. His thumbs stroke along my jaw, and I swear my knees actually wobble, which I didn’t think knees did outside of romance novels.

He finds the zipper at the back of my dress. Draws it down one tooth at a time. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”

“You might have mentioned it.” I wiggle impatiently. “You’re taking forever,” I whisper.

“I am savoring.”

“Savor faster.”

He laughs low against my mouth, and the dress pools at my feet.

His gaze travels over me. Down. Then back up. Slowly. Like he’s reading a book he already knows by heart and still can’t believe how it ends.

“So damned beautiful,” he says quietly. Not a line. Not a compliment tossed off to get me into bed. Just a fact.