The piano took up and lively music drifted from the house, urging him into action. The water would entice her. He was almost certain and so set himself along the path that headed for the brook. All week long, he’d avoided her proximity, and even so, he’d always been aware of her location, what she was doing, her mood.
She seemed to have enjoyed herself, and members of his family had mentioned how pleasant a lady she was more than once.
She was unlike any other woman he’d ever known.
He’d known her far better than he should have. He knew what she looked like caught up in the throes of passion, the sounds she made.
He knew the texture of her skin and the taste of her lips.
He ought to regret it, but God help him, couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.
With each step, urgency built in him to find her.
Was he really only following so that he could discuss Lord Lockley and his sister with her? Damnit, he’d thought he had been.
But his arms ached to hold her. His lips craved to kiss her. He’d made love to her once. He’d been given the key to heaven only to guiltily throw it away.
God help him, he simply wanted to be with her.
Impatience set him running. He knew this path like the back of his hand. Where was she? Halting, he paused to see if he could hear any footsteps.
Nothing.
He ought to have caught up with her by now. Slowing, he stepped into a clearing and turned to gaze upward. In the distance, he could just barely make out the silhouette of a person at the folly. Movement. A flash of something light. Her hair?
Damnit, he’d been wrong. That was her. Sitting alone.
And then not alone. Who? Hopefully Nathaniel.
Only that wasn’t Nathaniel’s gait. It was neither of his brothers’ postures.
Gabriel’s heart constricted. He’d not guessed correctly and now she was alone with Lockley. Desperate to get to her, he took off running up the path.
Chapter 28
No!
As the baronlowered himself onto the bench beside her, Olivia chastised herself for not following her intuition. She should have told Gabriel what she’d seen that afternoon in the Abby. She should have shared her misgivings.
Lockley was a predator. Something inside of her had realized this but she’d been fooled by his fine manner and speech; by the fact that he could put the word ‘lord’ in front of his name as though that gave him the right to take what he wanted… or who.
She went to rise from the bench, but he grasped her by the wrist.
“You cannot leave me all alone, Miss Redfield, when I’ve gone to all this trouble now, can you?” He tugged on her arm.
Hard.
She had no choice but to fall back.
Only he did not pull her onto the bench. He pulled her onto his lap.
“There now. Isn’t that better? You’ve played games with me all week. Don’t tell me you don’t want this.” One hand began drawing the hem of her gown upward. “Now close your eyes for me, gel, so I don’t have to look at that crazy one while I make love to you.”
“I don’t want—” But her protests were silenced by his mouth. She would not call this a kiss. It was an attack. An invasion.
She pushed at him with all her might, only to realize her efforts were fruitless. His arms had clamped around her in a savage vise.
Twisting and writhing, she managed to free her mouth. “Let me go!” She went to scream, and he ground his teeth against her lips again.
