The vile Reddington tightened his grip on Mary’s waist, jealousy written plainly on his features. “Why not let Mary remain down here for a little while longer, Spencer?”
The anger burning within him threatened to spill over. Gabe had to concentrate to keep his English accent as he spoke. “Because she ismymistress and I require hernow.”
Someone whistled long and high behind him, but Gabe ignored it.
Obviously sensing his agitation, Mary pried Reddington’s hands from her person and accepted Gabe’s hand.
He frowned at the tingling sensation caused by her grip. Something must be wrong with him. Perhaps heshouldsee a doctor. This was not normal.
Gabe helped Mary to rise, then with a showy flourish, lifted her into his arms, disregarding the twinge in his still-healing shoulder.
More hoots and whistles echoed behind them as he swept Mary from the room. He did not bother putting her on the floor when they reached the hall but kept her in his arms and hurried through the corridors until they arrived at their shared bedchamber.
He did not allow himself to stop to dwell on the warmth and the comforting weight of her in his arms, either. No, indeed.
