How to Woo a Wallflower (Romancing the Rules #3)(60)
“He had a fondness for whores.” Bracing his hands on the window frame to keep from reaching for her, he glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry to speak that way to you.”
“I’m not a child, Gabriel. How do you know of his . . . interests?” The truth began to dawn on her, little by little. Her eyes widened, her kiss-stung mouth parted. “He came to Whitechapel.”
“Regularly.” Gabe faced her, leaning his backside against the sill, arms braced across his chest. “One of Rigg’s girls was a favorite. She loathed him. Complained about him. Blackmail isn’t hard when men wish to keep their sins a secret.”
“Blackmail?”
“You’re far too clever to think your father lifted me from the fighting pit to manage Ruthven’s out of kindness. Or some philanthropic impulse.” Gabe shook his head, a sad grin lifting the edges of his mouth. “He wasn’t like you. Good and charitable. He didn’t have your generous heart.”
His voice had gone as cold and empty as his soul. He couldn’t stay near her. If Rigg came for him and threatened to harm her—
She approached slowly, reaching for his half-buttoned shirt, clenching the fabric in her hands as if she had no intention of letting go.
“I don’t care,” she said tentatively, as if fearing he’d bolt. Tension radiated between them. Need and fear and a desire like he’d never felt. “Whether you blackmailed my father or lied your way into a job. You did what you needed to do to survive.” One step closer, and she moved between his spread thighs. Her floral scent made him dizzy. The warmth of her body made his mouth water. He knew how she tasted, knew how it felt to sink inside her sweetness. That was all he wanted. Nothing more. Just her.
“You’re a good man.” Clary lifted a hand and ran her fingers along the stubble framing his jaw.
Gabe nuzzled against her fingers, captured her hand, and pressed a kiss to the center of her palm, licking her skin, memorizing the flavor and texture. “Everyone’s redeemable in your eyes, aren’t they? Your girls at Fisk Academy, the ragged little messenger boy, a man who used to find satisfaction in beating other men senseless.” With both hands cradling her head, he held her steady. “What if I’m not redeemable? What if you wake up a month from now, a year, a decade on and wonder what you’ve done to bind yourself to a man like me? What if I can’t give you what you deserve? What if I disappoint you?”
“I can’t tell the future. I’ve never visited a soothsayer or gazed into a crystal ball. I only know what I feel for you and what you feel for me.”
From the moment he’d met her, she’d lingered in his thoughts. Now she was prepared to give him more. All her passion and devotion. But he didn’t deserve any of it. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.
“I only want to be with you,” she said.
He wanted the same, but he had to let her go. Standing, he took her in his arms. She melted against him, pressing her cheek to his chest, where she’d be able to hear his heartbeat galloping. He pressed a kiss against her hair and stroked circles across her back. “You’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known.” The only woman he would ever want. And he cared for her enough to want more for her than he could give. “And you deserve better.”
It was agony to untangle himself from her and start toward the door. He paused only to retrieve his waistcoat, neckcloth, and overcoat. He collected the crumpled note from the messenger boy too. Let no part of him remain to remind her of a decision she would no doubt regret.
“Don’t do this, Gabriel.” She remained at the window, but she quivered, on the verge of movement. She reached for him, opening her hand, urging him to come back and take it.
He couldn’t. He kept on. Three more miserable steps to the threshold.
At the door, he stopped and gripped the handle so hard his knuckles burned. “I want you as I’ve never wanted anyone, Clary. But I care for you enough to spare you the misery I’d cause.”
Then he did the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. He left behind the woman he wanted as much as he wanted his next breath. And he knew instantly that she’d kept a part of him with her. His chest was hollow, burning, as if the devil’s fingers had raked inside and torn out his heart.
Clary stomped toward the door, but she couldn’t find the breath to call him back. Her throat hurt. Her whole body ached. In the center of her chest, the pain came in throbbing waves, as if someone was pulling her corset tighter, inch by agonizing inch. But her corset still lay on the floor, abandoned where it had fallen when Gabriel helped free her from its stifling embrace. That moment seemed days past rather than hours ago. How had so much happiness dissolved so quickly?
Striding toward the fireplace, she scooped up the chess piece, twisting the tiny horse head in her fingers. Such a finely carved trinket to be a harbinger of heartbreak. The moment he’d seen the knight, her joy had come crashing down around her. After smoothing her fingers over the smooth marble, she wound her arm back and flung the chess piece across the room.
When the trinket hit the window glass, a crack formed from its impact, fracture lines spreading out as the knight clattered to the wood floor below.
Her heart was fracturing too. The pain of it stole her breath.
After what they’d shared, she’d felt safe. Happy. Content as she’d never been. She could still taste his kiss. Her body still ached from their lovemaking. Gabriel.