“Likey tol’ ye,” the innkeeper said, “I cn git ol’ Richie t’drive ‘e an missus a’ Lonnon ore ye takkey coach.”
Gabe carefully disguised his disgust as the innkeeper spat on the coarse wooden floor of the taproom.
Gabe said in his practiced English accent, “My wife does not care for the stage or mail coaches. I would prefer to hire Richie to drive a hackney.”
The large, aging innkeeper affected a sigh, his nauseatingly odorous breath wafting around Gabe and hovering there. “I cn see if’n Richie’ll go. But it’ll cost-ye.”
Gabe nodded once as the lumbering oaf left.
A stagecoach or the mail coach would be far easier for Gabe to control himself within, as they would have an audience. But they were also far more dangerous to their identities and their safe escape. So a hackney it would be. Alone. In a hack. For a minimum of ten hours…with averytempting Mary.
Gabe cursed under his breath. It would be more challenging than ever before; now that he had experienced Mary in his bed, he knew what he was missing if he did not take her again. And damn it, she was too alluring by half. He knew he could not resist. He had already told himself last evening that he mustn’t continue on with Mary, that because of hisfeelingsfor her he must once more abandon their relationship.
But he couldn’t… He had sated his initial lust for her and then could not resist but take his time with her. Not once, but twice more he tasted, nipped, and kissed every inch of her before sinking himself deep inside her heat over and over…
Bloody hell. He was indeed in serious trouble.
“Richie’ll takkey. It’ll costey fi quid.”
Gabe’s eyebrows slid skyward. “Five quid? Good God, man, I am notpurchasinga carriage from you.”
The bloated man picked something out of what few teeth he had remaining in his mouth with a thick, dirty finger.
Gabe sighed and pulled his purse out. He had no time to quibble over prices. He had already delayed returning to Mary long enough.
“Direct the maid with the food tray to our room. When we have concluded our meal, I will bring our things down. Have Richie and the equipage ready in the innyard, if you will.” He handed five one-pound bank notes to the greedy innkeeper, then turned toward the stairs, taking them two at a time.
He entered their room and closed the door swiftly behind himself.
“Gabe! Goodness, where have you been?” Her spine was stiff and her voice soft.
“Were ye worried, then, Mary?”
“Yes!” She spread her hands at her sides and sighed exasperatedly.
Despite himself, his heart warmed at her concern. He strode forward and clasped her shoulders in his hands. “No need te fret.”
She sighed again, and for the briefest of moments, he could have sworn that her chin quivered. Entirely helpless to stop himself, he opened his arms to her.
“There, now, leannan,” he muttered.
She curled herself into the circle of his arms. His lips pulled back in a hiss as he clenched his jaw. His wounds had not been so painful last evening, but, he supposed his exertions might have reopened the wounds at his chest; his thoughts had been so muddled, he hadn’t bloody well checked.
Pushing past the pain, he squeezed his arms a little tighter around Mary.
He pressed his mouth to the top of her head and inhaled her scent.Mmm…Wildflowers? She had changed her scent! Why would she do such a thing?
Although…
He took another deep inhalation. He rather liked it.
Blast. Hereallyliked it, if his body’s reaction to her said anything.
A light knock sounded at the door and Mary sprang away from him.
Irritated at the interruption, Gabe answered the door.
