Page 69 of Gabriela and His Grace

Completion hovered just beyond her reach, and she grit her teeth in frustration. “I’m so close.”

“I can tell,” he murmured, smoothing a hand down her cheek and neck to her breast, where he ran his thumb over a hardened tip. “Let me help you.”

Grasping her knee with one hand, he angled it wider while he massaged her sex in time with his next thrust.

Gabby’s shriek echoed through the room as her climax barreled through her. Her limbs shook and her nails sank into his shoulders as wave after wave of bliss whited out everything but him. Everything but his triumphant expression…which quickly slackened as his thrusts lost their rhythm and he shuddered his release.

She clung to him for several minutes, drawing comfort from his warm, clammy skin and the drumming of his heart. When Sebastian did eventually rise, he discarded the sheath and then brought her a glass of water, encouraging her to finish it before using the washroom. When she was done, Sebastian welcomed her back to the bed and quickly enfolded her in his arms. With his face tucked into the crook of her neck, and feeling safe and satiated in his arms, Gabby fell into a deep slumber unlike anything she’d experienced…possibly ever.

19

The next several days passed in a blur. Sebastian did his best to take at least one meal in the first-class dining room, mindful he needed to keep up appearances. While he was the only British lord on the ship, he’d learned there were several well-connected executives and men of business among the passengers. He accepted invitations to dine with them, play a game of billiards or a few hands of cards—all at Gabriela’s urging, because if he had a choice, Sebastian would have been content to lock himself away in their cabin and stay tangled up in the sheets with her.

As it was, Sebastian spent the majority of his days with Gabriela. They dined together, read side by side, and discussed all manner of topics. She told him of her childhood in Mexico City, and he spoke of his mother and the happy home she made for him, in spite of his father, at Whitfield Manor. She teased him and Sebastian teased her in turn, their verbal bantering often an aphrodisiac, for inevitably they found themselves in bed afterward, their bodies continuing the bewitching dance they had been lured into. Gabriela was passionate and uninhibited, and Sebastian was pulled more and more into her thrall with every laugh they shared or kiss they exchanged.

He had no notion of how he was expected to let her go after they arrived in London.

Sebastian found himself considering this inevitable reality as they lounged in the sitting room, the double doors propped open to welcome in the salty sea breeze and warm Gulf of Mexico sun. He was supposed to be reading the newspaper Brodie had managed to secure in Altamira before they departed. It was more than a week old, but Sebastian had been interested to learn if Maximilian had surrendered, as well as the nature of affairs in the United States. Yet instead of reading the paper spread open in his lap, he kept sneaking surreptitious glances at Gabriela. She was curled on the sofa, her eyes glued to the last quarter investors’ report from the Camino Rojo mine in her hands.

“Did you have any questions?” he finally asked, setting the newspaper aside.

Gabriela glanced at him over the report. “I do. If you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” And he didn’t. Gabriela was inquisitive and driven to learn new things. Attributes he admired.

“It appears there is a detailed multiyear plan for extracting the silver deposit the mine sits upon, but what about the copper? And the zinc ore?” Gabby dropped her eyes to the report for a moment, and then met his gaze again. “Surely there are plans for them?

“There are, in fact,” Sebastian said, smiling. “The hope is to reuse the existing infrastructure to mine them.”

Gabby quirked her head. “What sort of schedule are they working with?”

They discussed the schedule, and Sebastian explained how exactly the silver would be extracted from the earth, and the ways in which the process compared to mining copper and zinc ore. From there, he told her of how he had come to invest in the mine and what it had meant to the future of the dukedom. Sebastian didn’t disclose his father’s misdeeds and how his anger had almost bankrupted the dukedom’s reserves. Nor did he tell her of James and David, because the boys and their place in his life still felt like something to protect.

Eventually, Brodie arrived with a lunch spread and refreshments. Out of an abundance of caution, the Scotsman had seen to caring for Sebastian and Gabby on his own; a strenuous task, Sebastian knew. But they had been concerned about the servants spreading gossip that a woman was staying in the Duke of Whitfield’s cabin, and his valet had been adamant that no one would speak ill of Gabriela. Once again, Sebastian was thankful for Brodie and the attention he brought to all aspects of his job.

Over a lunch of egg salad and a cold vegetable salad, Sebastian told her of what he had read in the paper regarding the French, and Maximilian’s refusal to leave Querétaro. Gabby seemed unsurprised by this, lifting a shoulder as she speared a potato on her plate.

“From what I’ve heard, Maximilian is genuinely interested in the welfare of Mexico.” Her nose crinkled. “Perhaps Presidente Juárez and the archduke would have been allies in another world.”

“Hmm,” was all Sebastian could think to say in response. Although he had spent almost two months in Mexico, and much longer preparing for his visit, he would not pretend to understand the complex political dynamics at play. After a moment, he added, “I wonder if your father would agree with that assessment.”

He regretted his words as soon as they left his lips. The blood leached from Gabriela’s face, and her shoulders sank. Damn it.

“I imagine he would…but he’d never admit to it,” she murmured, offering him a pathetic excuse for a smile.

Stifling a sigh, Sebastian tossed his napkin down and strolled around the table to grab Gabby’s hand and haul her from her seat.

“Darling, you’re being silly,” he said as he arranged her in his lap on the sofa. “Haven’t we discussed how shortsighted your father is?”

Gabby glanced at him over her shoulder. “No. We haven’t.”

Sebastian frowned. “Then I must have thought all those damning things in my own mind. An honest mistake.”

The corners of her lips turned up. “You’re silly.”

“When it comes to you”—Sebastian nuzzled his nose against her neck—“perhaps I am.”

She twisted about in his arms to face him, her gaze soft. “Thank you.”