“As a spy, any violence you conducted was for a purpose,” she said adamantly. “For the greater good. That is not the same as being a mindless brute.”
“Octavian told me once that he recruited me because he sensed what I have inside me.” Gabriel’s lips twisted. “The capacity to do what needed to be done—that was his euphemism for it. He groomed the darkness in me.”
“Were you close to him? You called him your mentor,” she said tentatively.
Dragonflies performed dizzy, iridescent loops in front of them as they walked on in silence.
“When I met Octavian, there was anger in me,” Gabriel said finally. “From the years of living under my brother’s tyranny, I suppose. Octavian taught me to control that, gave me skills to put it to a better use. For that, I owe him.”
Shadows flitted through his eyes. There was something else he wasn’t saying.
“But?” she said softly.
He gave her a wry glance. “But our parting was not amicable. He didn’t want me to leave the Quorum, and I refused to stay.”
“Why?”
“It’s a long story.”
“As you said, we’ve the time.” She gave him an encouraging smile.
“There are better ways to pass time.”
He stopped on the path, picking up her hand. His lips grazed the inside of her wrist, and her knees wobbled. His smoky gaze promised sinful temptation, yet she wanted to get close to him in other ways as well.
“You’re dodging the question,” she said.
“And you’re more persistent than I realized.” His thumb brushed over her lower lip. “What happened to you surrendering your will to mine?”
Heat pulsed in her cheeks. And elsewhere.
“Our agreement was for the bedchamber,” she reminded him. “We’re not in one presently.”
His slow smile made her toes curl in her half-boots. “I could improvise.”
“Even you wouldn’t make love to me in the garden… in broad daylight…” The devilish glint in his eyes stole away her certainty. Worried and aroused, she said breathlessly, “Gabriel, anyone could see...”
He laughed. The low, husky sound was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
“You should see yourself, princess. Pink-cheeked and fretting.” He tipped her chin up, his gaze dark and penetrating. “Tell me, are you afraid that I’m going to make love to you here or afraid,” he murmured, “that I’m not?”
His hold on her was mesmeric; she couldn’t look away. Couldn’t give him anything but the truth. “A little of both?” she managed.
His lips curved with satisfaction. Holding her hand, he led her forward along the path again. “Enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”
She hadn’t learned nearly enough about him. Seeing the impassive set of his features, however, she knew that she wasn’t likely to get more from him today. Getting close to Gabriel was like learning an intricate piece of music. Her struggles with Beethoven’s Hammerklavier sonata came to mind. She doubted she would ever master the mammoth composition, from the power of its first movement to the deeply emotional nuances of the second to the dizzying complexity of the last.
But she didn’t give up trying. One couldn’t force music to reveal its true heart. That took patience, practice, and the wisdom to let each piece unfold in its own time.
Sometimes capitulating was a better choice than pounding the keys in frustration.
“You’ve met most of my family, with the exception of my brother Harry,” she said. “He’s an aspiring scientist and making quite a splash at Cambridge.”
“Your family has unusual interests.”
“Our parents encouraged us to follow our hearts, even if that took us off the beaten path.”
“In your case, it’s taken you straight off a cliff,” he said wryly. “You don’t know what you’ve taken on with me, princess.”
