Callie scowled suspiciously at him. “You think she’s a poisonous harpy?”
“I know she is.”
His words pleased her, but she wasn’t finished yet. “She’s quite beautiful.”
He nodded. “Very beautiful, yes, she is. For an underdressed bitch in heat.” His eyes were dancing.
She narrowed hers at him. He hadn’t needed to add on thevery. “She talked about yourthumbs,” she accused.
He smiled and cupped her cheek with his palm. “She may have seen my thumbs, but I promise you that’s all she’s seen of me. I wouldn’t touch that woman with a barge pole, let alone with, er, anything else.”
“Never?”
“Never. Never in the past and certainly not in the future. Besides, my body is wholly and exclusively dedicated to you—or had you forgotten those vows I made in church the other day?”
Mollified, she relaxed. His arm slid around her waist and the hand cupping her cheek moved to the back of her head. One long, strong finger stroked the nape of her neck, sending delicious shivers down her spine. “She was horrid about Harry,” she told him.
His face hardened. “I’m not surprised. She’s a vicious creature. Harry was once hopeles—” He broke off. “But that’s in the past and besides, it’s Harry’s tale to tell, or not. Would you care for some supper?”
“In a minute,” she said. She wasn’t quite finished. “Lady Anthea told me all the ladies were in mourning since you got married.”
He gave a smug smile. “Well, of course they are. I’m a very charming fellow. Quite good-looking, too, I’m told.”
“Not as handsome as your brothers,” she said dampeningly.
“Yes, but they all feel sorry for me now, knowing I’m firmly under the thumb of a shrew.”
“A shrew?” she said indignantly.
“Yes, but a very beautiful one, and she wears me out so that I am not the least use to any other women.”
Strangely pleased by his words, she kissed him.
After a very satisfying interlude, he murmured, “Besides, she’s a very jealous creature and all the other ladies will be too frightened to cross her.”
“Jealous? I am not jealous!” She stared at him shocked. “And nobody is ever frightened of me.”
“Tell that to Lady Anthea,” he said and kissed her again.
After that Callie was walking on air as well as dancing on it. She’d never enjoyed a party more. Gabriel didn’t precisely hover, but he was never more than a few paces away and she was aware of his eyes on her throughout the evening.
Rupert used to watch her, too, waiting for her to make some gaffe, or drop something, or say the wrong thing. She was never comfortable with Rupert watching. This was different.
Gabriel watched to make sure she was having a good time. When her glass was empty, he would appear to have it filled. If she hovered between groups of people, not sure who to talk to next, he would appear and introduce her to someone. Or if she was being bored to death, Gabriel would come to rescue her.
Nash, Luke, and Rafe danced with her, and they and Harry were all very attentive, making sure she had whatever she needed, that she wasn’t bored or feeling lonely in this crowd of people she didn’t know. It was wonderful to have such tall, handsome men watching out for her. Callie had never felt so cared for at a party before. She was not on trial. Her only job was to enjoy herself.
She smiled and nodded at the most recent bore, a hunting-mad lord whose name she had forgotten. He’d pontificated for ten minutes now about the delights of hunting and the various horses he owned and all their interesting foibles and she hadn’t been able to escape. He was impervious to hints and excuses. At last, she thought as she saw her husband threading his way toward them. Rescue was at hand.
“But there,” said Lord Hunting-Mad, “I’ve been goin’ on about my own mounts when really what I’d like to hear about are yours, Princess. I hear the horses of Zindaria are something quite special.” He nodded genially as Gabriel arrived and said, “How do, Renfrew. The princess here was about to tell me about her favorite mount.”
Gabriel, his eyes dancing, said suavely, “Really? Do tell, Princess.”
She looked him straight in the eye and said, “I ride often, of course, and find it a most stimulating form of exercise. But not horses. Never horses.” And with a sweet smile at his lordship, she sailed away, leaving Gabriel choking on his champagne.
“Not horses?” she heard Lord Hunting-Mad demand. “What the devil does the gel ride then?”
Callie paused to hear what her husband would say, knowing full well the only creature she ever rode was himself.
