“Stop!” She said firmly. “I don’t want any more excuses. I just want…” Her voice trailed off, because what she wanted was what she couldn’t have. She closed her eyes. “Please, just take me home.”
When she would have moved away, he grabbed hold of her arm. “I can’t let you leave me like this.”
She gasped when he cupped her head and kissed her. His mouth was coaxing as it touched hers, almost pleading, and while she knew she should push him away, she just didn’t have the strength — or the wherewithal — to resist him. She’d been craving his touch for far too long.
She moaned as he gently tugged down her bodice and bent to take the sensitive tip of one of her breasts into his mouth. He gently circled her nipple with his tongue as he began to lift up her skirts. She began to tremble with need when he touched her aching core.
“It feels so good to touch you again,” he crooned next to her ear.
Triana didn’t reply; in truth she couldn’t, as he began to draw delightful little circles around her womanly nub. The friction instantly fanned the fire in her belly into a raging inferno of heat. She knew she was close to that wonderful feeling; the pressure building just as it had that day in the parlor.
“That’s it,” he whispered in her ear. “Give yourself to me. I want all of you.”
He inserted a finger into her slick passage, and she gave a sharp cry of ecstasy, as the spiraling tension inside of her abruptly broke free. She clung to him as her body shook with wave after wave of pleasure, all while he murmured soft words of encouragement and praise.
His eyes were smoky as he looked at her in the aftermath. He tenderly kissed her cheek, and then took a step back. “We’d better get you home before I forget that I’m an honorable gentleman.”
With her body still humming delightfully, Triana nodded, although she would have liked to know just how dishonorable he could be.
***
After hailing down a hackney, Gabriel helped her inside. They made their way back to Hyde Park in silence and without incident. Triana snuggled deeper into Travell’s cloak and leaned back against the seat as a weariness she wasn’t sure she’d ever felt before overtook her. But then, it had been a rather eventful night. From rescuing Travell at the docks, to the fear of suffering the same fate of capture, and that blissful encounter with Gabriel, it was a lot to take in.
She must have dozed off at some point, for all at once Gabriel was gently waking her. Blinking, she sat up and realized they were nearly back where they had started. He walked with her to the tunnel entrance, giving her a light kiss on her hand and a brief bow before he slipped off into the night.
Triana stared after him until his figure was no longer discernable from the shadows surrounding him and then slowly made her way back through the secret passage, until she was pushing open the bookcase to the study.
There, she found her brother pacing the floor of the study. “Triana, thank God,” he breathed. As he enveloped her in a hug, she tried not to let guilt overwhelm her, for while Travell had been concerned for her welfare, she had been experiencing joy and wonder in Gabriel’s arms.
Triana turned away, finding it hard to meet her brother’s eyes. “Where’s the other agent?”
“Logan went back to interrogate our traitor. I was going to join him, but first I wanted to make sure you made it home safely.” He eyed her closely. “I thought you might have gotten back before me. Did you and Gabriel get separated?”
She shook her head, feeling the telltale signs of a blush beginning to warm her cheeks. “No. We just went a different direction.”
She feared that more questions would be forthcoming, which she wouldn’t know how to answer, so she gave Travell back his cloak and started for the door. “It’s been a long night and I’m tired. We’ll talk in the morning.”
She ignoring the slight narrowing of his gaze and climbed the stairs to her bedroom. Triana peeled off the scandalous, red gown; shoving it in the back of her wardrobe, praying her maid wouldn’t happen to come upon it before she could get rid of it.
She slipped under the covers, and soon, she found the deep, restful sleep that had eluded her for so long.
***
The Duke of Chiltern was not so fortunate.
While Gabriel’s body was screaming for a mixture of release and exhaustion, he found that his mind was too preoccupied with thoughts of Triana when he reached his townhouse. The sun was starting to break the horizon when he made his way to the library and poured his first brandy of the morning, feeling as though he were in some sort of daze.
He brooded over the fiery, amber liquid, and couldn’t help but think it was rather ironic that after all this time of running from love — pushing women away so that he wouldn’t get too close; so he didn’t have tocare— that he’d still managed to get struck by Cupid’s arrow.
But he knew he was lost ever since he’d first handed Triana his damned handkerchief. Even then, he hadn’t been able to resist her.
He stared into the dying embers of his fireplace, contemplating the glowing ashes as he let his mind wander. For years prior to his untimely return to London, he’d always had an objective; a path he’d carefully laid out for himself. He was an agent for the Crown.Period. His existence had been precise and just how he liked it. No complications. He didn’t care for surprises or bumps in the road.
Of course, that didn’t mean he’d never lived life on the edge. In fact, he’d been quite a rogue in his youth, but once he’d left England behind, that sordid lifestyle had diminished. The only reason he’d played the rebel at all had been to get his father’s attention. But now the old codger was dead — and he was duke.
It still didn’t seem possible. While Gabriel had never been ignorant of the fact he would eventually hold the title one day, it had never held the least bit of attraction for him. Chiltern Hall was the one true love of his father’s life; one Gabriel had grown weary of repeatedly competing with. An only child whose mother had died when he was but a baby, Gabriel had only one desire growing up — to earn the respect of his sire. Time after time he had tried, but he just never seemed to measure up against that three-story, prized possession. Finally, he’d quit altogether and stood up to the lord of the manor the only way a frustrated, seventeen-year-old boy on the cusp of manhood knew how.
He’d failed to impress the old man with intelligence or any number of virtues a young man might possess, so Gabriel went wild. Feeling trapped and despondent within his own existence, he found the life of a rakehell suited his rebellious nature. The more daring and notorious his stunts were — such as the time he’d run naked and intoxicated down Pall Mall, or when he’d lifted a courtesan’s skirts in broad daylight, against a tree in Regent’s Park — the more he craved the excitement and scandal.
