Bride for a Night(140)

Talia parted her lips to assure her husband that it was not his fault, only to bite back the words. Why bother? Gabriel could no more alter his habit of assuming responsibility for those he cared about than she could curb her need to reassure him.


“Where was he hit?” she instead demanded.

He shrugged. “I assumed his upper chest, although he refused to allow me to inspect the wound.”

“Refused?” It was difficult to imagine Harry not taking full advantage of his role as the wounded hero. “Why would he refuse?”

“My hope is that he wished to disguise the fact that he was not injured as severely as I feared.”

“Surely not.” Her brows snapped together. “He must have known you were frantic with worry. Not even Harry could be so cruel.”

He smiled at her outrage. “I do not believe he was attempting to be cruel on this occasion, but if I had known he was capable of walking I would have insisted that he accompany me down the cliff rather than leave him alone while I went for assistance.”

“Oh.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “Jacques?”

“No, the Frenchman and his guards had already fled before my crew arrived,” he said in soothing tones, although his expression remained hard with frustration. “Which was why I did not hesitate to leave Harry on his own. It never occurred to me that he would use the opportunity to escape.”

She barely noted the sensation of the yacht’s swaying motion as they gathered speed and headed toward England. Indeed, she was impervious to everything beyond Gabriel’s pale face and the shadows beneath his eyes.

“You are saying that Harry is gone?”

“Yes.”

She hesitated. His expression was neutral, clearly struggling against his instinctive resistance to share his thoughts and feelings with another. He had been trained to appear invulnerable, no matter how he might long to lean on another.

Then, gathering her courage, she moved to lay a comforting hand upon his arm.

Whether Gabriel knew it or not, he needed her. Especially now.

“Do you believe he intends to return to Calais?” she asked.

He shook his head. “He could not possibly be that much a fool. Jacques would have him shot on sight.”

She had to agree with his reasoning. Jacques had not been pleased to discover his English lackey had betrayed him.

“Then where would he go?”

“I cannot say.”

“Do you intend to send someone in search of him?”

There was a long silence as he brooded on the question, an unmistakable concern darkening his eyes before he heaved a deep sigh.

“Maybe after we have returned to England. Then again, it is perhaps best he disappears for the time being.”

He shook his head, as if attempting to rid himself of the dark thoughts that were plaguing him. Then, allowing his hooded gaze to run the length of her slender body, the tension visibly eased from his expression, and a slow, wicked smile curved his lips.

A primal heat filled the air between them, prickling over her skin and causing her to take an unconscious step backward.

“Yes, it might be for the best,” she managed to rasp.

His smile widened as he prowled forward, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms.

“For now I have more important matters to occupy my mind,” he said, his voice dark.

Her heart thundered and her breath locked in her throat. Lord, would she ever become accustomed to the thrilling excitement of this man’s touch?

“What matters?” she weakly attempted to tease.