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“Where is Miss Porter?” he asked. “At home?”
“She is twenty feet to your right.” Lady Crescentwood’s lips twitched.
Looking over, Gabriel took a moment to drink in the sight of her. She was wearing a lavender-colored day gown that highlighted her nipped-in waist, her dark hair captured in a simple chignon at her crown.
Damn, but she made his heart pound faster. He could not deny his reaction to her any more than he could breathe.
Mrs. Gabriel Williams—Duchess of Clovervale.
Those last unwelcome words hit him in the chest like a bullet and made his gut cramp. He had vowed he would never marry, and now, before him, stood a deliciously feminine temptation against that vow. She was examining a necklace, and as she leaned in, the tops of her creamy breasts came into view.
Casually, he turned away—even though it felt as if a bolt of lightning had been jabbed right through him. Over the Dowager’s shoulder, he spotted David going towards Anastasia and the lady who accompanied her, and Gabriel ground his teeth. They would be talking about that as soon as they left the damned shop.
“I will tell her the same as I am telling you at Lady Winterton’s ball,” Gabriel said. “I shan’t hide anything from her, I give you my word.”
“And since we know your word is currency, you shall pay if you break it,” Dowager Crescentwood said solemnly, “and I will do the books.”
Shifting, Gabriel watched as Anastasia spoke softly to David—who looked to be preening which made Gabriel more unsettled— and her neck canted to the side.
Gabriel allowed his gaze to trail over the skin slowly, resting on the softly thumping pulse-point; heat rushed through his veins as a vivid image of her laying in his bed came to him, her alabaster column littered with red kiss marks and ready for a long session of sensual lovemaking.
He would bend over her holding his weight on one arm as he pushed her knees apart, so she was fully spread beneath him, every sensitive, trembling part of her ready for his taking. He would bet that even in the dark shadows of his bed chamber, she would be beautiful.
She would shiver as he caressed the delicate skin around her secret place. Her quim would be soaking with wet heat as he eased first one finger then two into her snug passage.
Get a hold of yourself man; you cannot get aroused in public!
“And you have every right to do so,” Gabriel replied while bowing his head. “Please, excuse me.”
He went over to David and the ladies and greeted the ladies, but the other one he did not know, so he inquired, “I believe you have me at a disadvantage, Miss…”
“Miss Victoria Thompson,” David answered imperiously, “daughter of Baron Rutherford.”
“Why thank you for the kind introduction, My Lord,” Victoria said icily, “and thank you for getting my name right, atlast.”
Gabriel arched a brow. Was there a history here? Why had David not mentioned this lady who seemed ready to scratch his eyes out?
Clearing his throat, Gabriel added, “I apologize for the late arrival. Miss Porter, I hope you received my gift this morning?”
“I did,” she replied, her pink lips curving just so. “That bouquet spoke more than your note.”
“I’d expected you’d interpret them all,” Gabriel replied. “I do apologize for my absence, but I will explain more tomorrow night. Now, if you will excuse us, Gladhame and I must be going; we have a prior appointment.”
He didn’t have to look at David to enforce his lie; they had done versions of this story for years.
“Sadly, His Grace is right; we must leave,” David fibbed smoothly. “Have a pleasant day, Misses Porter and Thompson.”
With bows, they left the shop, but as they stepped onto the walkway, Gabriel demanded, “What did Miss Porter say to you?”
His tone must have carried a hint of possessiveness to it because David laughed. “You’re jealous,” he crooned.
“I do not get jealous,” Gabriel shot back. “You’re imagining things.”
“You’re jealous; you are truly jealous,” David guffawed. “I shall write this day down in history.”
They came to Gabriel’s black-lacquered carriage, and he stopped, “Just bloody tell me what she said and stop dragging this out. You’re testing my patience.”
Feeling the gravity of the situation, David sobered, “She only thanked me for saving you two from scandal and disgrace—my hand to God, that is all she said.”
