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Evie smiled at him then, in such a way that made him want to kiss her until they both forgot their names. He’d been dreaming of this, of being close to her, touching her, kissing her all the way during the ride.
Now, as he stood in front of her, he could finally make his dream come true. He leaned closer to her, so close that their mouths were almost touching. But as he was about to close the distance between them, she reared back and cleared her throat.
Just as well, Gabriel thought glumly. He wouldn’t be able to stop at one kiss, anyway.
“Wh—What…” Evie stammered as she tried to collect her thoughts, and Gabriel grinned. “Why were you so stiff with the earl earlier?” she finally asked, and the smile died on Gabriel’s lips.
“It’s a long story,” he said with a dismissive wave and sauntered about the room, looking around.
“Surely not so long that you can’t reveal it to your wife?”
Gabriel heaved a sigh. “It’s not a very interesting story either.” He shrugged. “The earl has always cared about his estates much more than he cared about me. He sent me off to school when I was seven—too early for anyone really—but I was a small child, much too small for my age, too small compared to other children.”
He grimaced slightly as he came toward her vanity and took one of the jars from its surface and studied it intently, although, in reality, he couldn’t even understand what he was looking at. “I was bullied there, obviously. Everyone was. But I was just…” He left his sentence unfinished, trying to explain to his innocent wife how cruel boys can be, especially to a new boy, and the smallest, weakest boy was not something he looked forward to. “When I wrote to him, asking to take me back, he refused. He said that if I was to be a man, I should learn how to stand up for myself.”
He felt Evie’s fingers prying the jar away from him. “At seven years old, he expected you to stand up for yourself against the boys much bigger and older than you?”
“Well, it wasn’t such a big deal after all,” he said, turning to her and tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. “I did take care of myself, I learned how to fight, or don’t you remember how I held my own against Montbrook’s thugs?”
“You had help.” Evie grinned.
“Either way, the rift between my father and I only grew after that. He wasn’t interested in anything I had to say, he punished me for little transgressions, and he didn’t really want anything to do with me until I finished university and established my own lodgings in London. Even then, all of our communication went through his solicitors and stewards.” He put his fingers on her chin and forced her to meet his gaze. “But I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” he whispered and kissed her on the lips.
The sensation was so sweet and pleasurable, he almost groaned. God, how he missed her lips. The taste of her so delicious and pure, the feel of her so soft and tender. She wasn’t as lost in the kiss as he because she pulled away and studied his face for a moment.
“Why did he do that?”
Gabriel expelled a breath. “I don’t know. I presume I reminded him of my mother.”
“But why—”
He cut her off with another kiss. This time, he licked across her lips before plunging his tongue inside her and sweeping over her mouth in little circles, making certain she knew he owned it. Her mouth, her body, was his. With a small moan, she surrendered and pressed her body closer to his, as if acquiescing to his demand, as if she heard his thoughts and agreed with him.
He moved his hand lower and dipped it inside her loose bodice, running his fingers against her breasts, thrust unnaturally high by her corset. She moaned, but instead of moving closer to him, she pushed at him. Gabriel looked at her with a frown. She was breathing heavily, trying to regain her composure.
“Not now,” she whispered. “I need this gown ready for the ball.”
Gabriel smiled wolfishly and traced her cheek with his thumb before planting another demanding kiss on her lips.
When he raised his head, Evie still had her eyes closed, and she was holding on to his shoulders as if she might fall if she let go. Her lips were soft and swollen from his kisses. All he wanted was to take her in his arms, cross to the door adjoining his chambers, and make long and unhurried love to her.
Only one thing made him stifle his impatience. It was not the fact that the maids were waiting outside the door, not the fact that she needed to get ready for the ball or else they’d be late. What held him back was the fact that she didn’t say no. She said, “Not now.” And that he could wait for.
* * *
Once the gown was ready and her hair bound, Evie peered into the looking glass and smiled. She looked like fire, radiant and bright. She would draw every eye in the ballroom, even more so than she ever had. Just as well, this was her wedding ball, after all. She grinned at her own reflection, picked up her skirts, and twirled, enjoying the swishing of skirts, the bright colors that flashed in front of her.
A knock sounded at her door.
“Are you ready, pet? We are already la—” Gabriel said as he opened the door and stepped in. He froze in his tracks, his mouth hanging open. Evie smothered a chuckle at the expression on his face. “Or perhaps we don’t have to go at all. We can stay in,” he said, slowly running his gaze over her body, his voice turning husky.
The maids giggled as they scattered away, and Evie felt herself grow hot with embarrassment.
“You shouldn’t say such things in front of the servants,” she said weakly.
“Why not?” He stepped closer, and Evie danced away from his reach.
She picked up her fan, flicked it open, and regarded him from beneath her lashes. “Let’s go, husband, or we’ll be even later.”
