A Gentleman Never Tells(103)
“This is going way too far, Gabrie,” he mumbled. “I’m not such a beast as to be so insensitive as to take advantage of you at a time like this.”
Her heart lurched with love, with wanting. He had always been a gentleman with her, and she shouldn’t expect any less of him now.
“You aren’t,” she whispered earnestly. “Earlier today you told me you were giving me the freedom to choose whom I wanted. And I’ve known for some time now I want you.”
“Don’t tease me. You have been doing your best to make me walk away from you for weeks now.”
“I know, but that was because I’ve always been ashamed of how forward I was that morning we met, ashamed you were humiliated and treated like a common footpad, ashamed my father forced you to say you would marry me. You deserved your freedom as much as I wanted mine.”
“None of those things mattered to me. They never did, because the harder you tried to push me away, the more I was determined you would be mine. Don’t you know the reason you couldn’t get rid of me is because I’ve fallen irrevocably in love with you? And because I love you so much, I had to give you the one thing you wanted from me, your freedom to choose whom you wanted to marry.”
Gabrielle gasped.
Had he said he had fallen in love with her?
Yes! He loves me!
Her love for him, knowing he loved her, welled up inside her. Gabrielle felt as if her heart burst open like spring’s first rose. She loved him for never getting angry with her for all the ridiculous things she put him through. She loved him for helping her with Brutus and never once complaining. She loved him for telling her he wasn’t going to force her to marry him.
“If I am free to choose, I choose you. I love you, my lord, and I want only you. Don’t deny me the comfort of your love right now, Brent.”
“Gabrielle, this is not the time to tempt a desperate man. Do you really want to be mine for the rest of your life? There will be no going back if we go further right now.”
She smiled. “I love you, Brent. Make me yours.”
She slid her hands back under his shirt and moved them up his rippled ribs, brushing over his smooth, tiny nipples. She heard Brent’s hissing intake of breath, as if she caused him pain, and stilled her hands.
“Does that hurt too?” she asked.
“No, my lady, but it is torture for sure. If you want to touch me, please touch me wherever you wish.” He quickly untied his neckcloth, wound it from around his neck, and slung it away. He yanked the rest of his shirt out of his trousers and pulled it over his head, sending it the way of the neckcloth.
Gabrielle’s breaths quickened at the sight of his strong chest. Firm muscles filled out his skin. A patch of light brown hair showed low on his stomach just above the waistband of his trousers. She looked at his broad shoulders with awe and touched him again.
She smiled at him. “You are magnificent.”
He chuckled softly, and she gazed into his warm brown eyes, enjoying the delight she saw in their depths.
He reached over and covered her mouth in a brief but passionate kiss. “You must play fair, Lady Gabrielle. I must look at you, too.”
She turned her back to him. He kissed her nape and across her shoulders as he quickly made short work of unlacing her bodice. His lips on her back sent chills of pleasure skipping along her spine. She faced him and helped him slide the long velvet sleeves off her shoulders, down her arms, leaving the fabric to puddle around her waist. They did the same with her sleeveless shift.
“We don’t have enough time for me to completely undress you. I want to give you lingering kisses, loving touches, and sweet words, but your aunt will be—”
Gabrielle stopped him by putting her finger to his lips. “I know. Just kiss me, touch me, and whisper to me. Show me what it is I’ve been wanting since I first saw you standing in the mist.”
“With pleasure,” he whispered. He gently reached into her stays and lifted first one breast and then the other out of the fabric, letting them billow above the undergarment. A tremor of expectancy shivered through her as he looked at her with appreciation in his gaze.
“You are beautiful,” he said huskily, letting his fingertips glide easily from one side of her chest to the other, from the gentle swell of one breast to the other, and down to her very sensitive nipples. “Your skin is smoother than silk or satin.”
“Thank you,” she whispered and gasped as he bent his head and kissed the hollow of her throat, teasing her skin with his tongue. He palmed both breasts and lightly squeezed them, filling her with wonderment.