To Tame a Savage Heart

by Emma V. Leech

  He let her go, the movement rather abrupt.

  “By God, woman, don’t say such things. Do you have any idea how close you are to being compromised?”

  He sounded really rather angry with her, which only served to make her happier. He cared. He did. He must.

  “Surely the dreadfully wicked Viscount DeMorte doesn’t care for something like a foolish young woman’s reputation?” she said, teasing him gently. She took his hand, looking up at him with a smile to ensure he knew she wasn’t taunting him in earnest.

  But the look in his eyes was grave and not the least bit amused.

  “Do you really know what you’re doing?” he asked, the words harsh now. “Have you really considered? Do you think to force my hand? Do you expect me to marry you?”

  “No,” she replied, the word easily said, though she had lost sleep enough over the reality of what it would mean.

  “Don’t you want more than this?” he barked, his eyes cold now, and she knew there was a part of him that was angry at being here, angry at being made to care at all.

  “I just want you, Gabriel,” she said, whispering the words and praying that he could hear the sincerity behind them. “However that happens, whatever it means.”

  “You’re a bloody fool,” he snapped, letting go of her hand.

  “Perhaps,” she said, her tone placid as she captured his fingers again, stubborn to the last. “Don’t be cross.” The words were cajoling and soft, and he reluctantly allowed his fingers to curl around hers once more, though his face was still a mask of indifference. “It’s Christmas Eve, after all, and I have a present for you.”

  She hid her smile as his eyes slid back to hers, a flicker of interest there that she delighted in. Talking to Gabriel was like deciphering smoke signals on a cloudy day. If you didn’t watch hard, the clues to his feelings were so fleeting and well camouflaged that you could miss them, but every one captured and recorded was another revelation, a tiny step closer to knowing him.

  He made a noise deep in his throat, somewhere between a grunt and a laugh, and he led her back to her horse, linking his hands together to give her a foot up. Crecy vaulted neatly into place, watching with admiration as his large figure moved back to his own horse that he mounted with ease. Without waiting for him to give any indication he was ready, or that he was, in fact, inviting her to accompany him, she took off.

  She gave a cry of delight as her horse galloped away from him, knowing he would consider her a hoyden and yet not think the worse of her for it. She glanced back, certain that she saw a smile cross his lips as he sprang his own horse, Typhon surging forward in pursuit.

  Crecy laughed, her heart light as Gabriel thundered after her, knowing he could catch her with ease, yet she did not having the slightest intention of escaping him.

  Chapter 13

  “Wherein games are played.”

  Piper’s expression was one of such pleasure at seeing her that she wondered at it. Gabriel caught his look, too, glowering at him. Piper hurriedly rearranged his features to something more sombre, but there was still a pleased glitter in the old man’s eyes that was hard to miss. What kind of relationship did he have with Gabriel? He certainly treated him with deference, as was normal for a butler, but bearing in mind Gabriel’s reputation as a brute and a bully, it seemed strange that he show any pleasure in the fact that his master had a guest at long last. She suspected that the old man saw through Gabriel as she did, and that he was glad that someone was finally trying to break through the thick walls that the isolated viscount had built around himself.

  Once they had handed over coats, hats, and gloves, and Piper had withdrawn, Gabriel hesitated. He looked tense, unsure of what to do now, how to treat a guest in his home.

  “The parlour, perhaps?” Crecy suggested, her tone gentle, not wanting to create the impression that she was trying to give orders herself. “And some tea would be nice,” she added.

  Gabriel gave a curt nod, and she jumped as he bellowed across the great entrance hall. “Piper!”

  Piper reappeared, looking not the least bit surprised at being summoned in such a manner, so she imagined he was used to it.

  “Tea. In the parlour,” Gabriel instructed.

  Piper nodded and went to withdraw, but Crecy felt the need to add, “Thank you, Piper,” shooting a reproachful look at Gabriel, who only glowered harder.

  “A please or thank you doesn’t cost anything, Gabriel,” she said, aware that she was scolding him, but feeling that someone ought to.

  Gabriel snorted, giving her a look of disgust. “You seek to tame the savage beast, is that it? Give the monster some manners? Good luck with that.” He strode away from her and she hurried after him, catching hold of his arm and tugging him to a halt.

  “You’re neither beast nor monster, Gabriel.”

  He looked down at her, his expression as cool and unreadable as ever.

  “Whatever your reason for being here,” he said, the words somehow ominous as he reached out and touched her cheek for the briefest moment before letting his hand fall away again. “Don’t fool yourself on that point.”

  He moved away again, tugging his arm from her grasp and holding open the door to the parlour for her. Crecy sighed, knowing that this was going to be a long and hard-won battle before walking through into the parlour.

  It was a lovely room, if rather faded and a touch tired at the edges. She suspected his mother was responsible for the décor here once more, and wondered if Gabriel had made any changes at all to his home since his parents died. The answer seemed obvious, and the idea made her feel unsettled, as if the ghosts of his past were still among them, watching them. How did he exist, in this self-imposed exile with reminders of his parent’s violent lives and deaths surrounding him at every turn? But then, that was all he did, wasn’t it – exist. He hadn’t the slightest idea what it meant to have friends, to talk about nothing in particular just for the pleasure of speaking, to have fun. She wondered if he’d ever had fun in his entire life. Did he even know how?

  She looked up as Piper returned bearing a tray with the tea things and a golden pound cake, which made Crecy realise that she was actually famished. Piper placed the tray down and straightened up.

  “Would you like me to pour the tea, my lord?” he enquired, apparently fighting to keep his mouth from curving into a smile.

  Gabriel gave a curt shake of his head and Crecy glared at him. He glowered harder.

  “No. That will be all, Piper …” The silence stretched on. “Thank you.” The words were obviously begrudging and bitten off, but they had been spoken nonetheless.

  Crecy looked around to see Piper staring at the viscount with something close to astonishment before remembering himself. He nodded at Gabriel and removed himself, still looking somewhat startled as he closed the door on them.

  “There, see,” Crecy said, knowing she sounded far too pleased with herself. “That didn’t hurt a bit, did it?”

  Gabriel grunted, which seemed to be his default response for anything he didn’t want to answer, and waited until she sat by the tray before taking a seat on the chair to her left. He did have some manners, then, she noted with amusement. Crecy turned her attention to the tea.

  “Milk and sugar?” she asked, and then paused as he nodded, lifting one eyebrow just a little as he gave no further response.

  Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Yes, please,” he muttered. Crecy returned to her work and felt his eyes on her. She wondered if it was her he was studying, or if he simply wanted to rearrange the tea-tray. She flattered herself that this time it was her, but wasn’t entirely sure.

  “One lump or two?” she asked, sugar tongs suspended over his cup.

  “Three … please.” He smiled at her, though it was more a snarl, in truth, a sarcastic baring of teeth.

  She snorted and shook her head. “A sweet tooth, who would have thought?” she murmured. She passed him his cup before returning her attention to the tray.

  “Cake
?”

  He shook his head and she shrugged, cutting a generous slice for herself. She bit into it and sighed with pleasure. Moist and buttery, it melted in her mouth, and she found herself relieved that he ate well, at least. They drank their tea in silence, and Crecy did nothing to try and make polite conversation. Gabriel would hate it, and she was content just to be in his company. The tea finished, Gabriel replaced his tea cup, and she watched with interest as he turned the teapot, milk jug, and both cups so that the handles all pointed in the exact same direction.

  “Do you have any games?” she asked as he sat back down, earning herself a look of complete surprise this time.

  “Games?” he said, sounding as appalled as if she’d asked if he had horns and a tail.

  “Yes,” she replied with a nod, determined that he should be taught to have some fun. “You know, entertainments.”

  “I have cards and dice,” he replied, his tone dry. She looked at him, his large frame filling the chair he sat in. Outwardly, he looked relaxed, one long leg crossed over the other, his huge shoulders leaned back, but there was something in his eyes that told her he was still all on edge.

  “I don’t mean gambling, Gabriel,” she said, tutting at him and sounding a little cross. “I mean parlour games … for fun.”

  “Fun?” he repeated, sounding somewhat revolted. “I’m a grown man, Crecy, you do understand that?”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Gabriel, I’m quite aware, I assure you,” she replied with an arch tone that was somehow rather flirtatious and not quite what she’d intended. His eyes darkened a little and she felt a responding flutter of excitement in the pit of her stomach, but refused to be diverted. “You must have something?” she pressed.

  Gabriel gave a huff of impatience, but seemed to consider the question for a moment before getting to his feet. He crossed the room, opening the doors of a rather elegant cabinet and crouching down, searching through the contents.

  “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  Crecy got to her feet at the soft exclamation and ran to look at the box he’d retrieved.

  “Oh, perfect!” she said, bouncing on her toes with delight.

  “I can’t believe it’s still here,” he said, staring at the box as though it had appeared by magic, or possibly witchcraft, going on the uneasy look he was casting it.

  Crecy ignored that and took the box from his hands.

  “Move the tea things, please, Gabriel,” she said as he followed her back to the table.

  Gabriel looked like he was biting his tongue against whatever retort was fighting to get out, but did as she asked. Crecy sat on the floor beside the coffee table and opened the box, getting out the board and remarking on the beauty of the painting and the carved wood teetotums instead of dice - that was too close to gambling to be allowed in a family game. “Come along, then,” she said, looking up at him with impatience as he hovered over her.

  He glowered some more, indignant and intimidating, a big angry man with a forbidding scowl. “You can’t be serious?”

  “Perfectly serious, sit down, please,” she instructed, ignoring his obvious antipathy towards the idea and patting the floor space beside her.

  “On the floor?” He sounded rather outraged now.

  Crecy scowled at him. “Well, really, Gabriel. Don’t tell me you’re too top-lofty to sit on the floor with your friend?”

  Gabriel opened and closed his mouth before muttering under his breath and getting to his knees. He cast Crecy a deeply aggravated look as he endeavoured to manoeuvre his large body into a position beside her. He ended up sitting cross legged, arms folded with obvious irritation, and wearing a rather mutinous expression.

  Crecy read out the rules to the Game of the Goose while Gabriel muttered, “This is ridiculous,” under his breath.

  “You’re just worried I’ll beat you,” she said, the words tart as she took the first throw. With a crow of delight, Crecy rolled a double six and moved her white goose the twelve places to land on a field with a goose in. “Ha!” she exclaimed, picking her goose up again. “I get to double the throw.” She moved on to the twenty fourth space, which was over a third of the way around the board. “Your go,” she said, turning back to give him a triumphant grin.

  Gabriel returned a long-suffering look, but picked up the dice and threw a one and a three.

  “Oh, bad luck,” she said, in such an exaggerated manner that it was clear she was taunting him.

  Gabriel snorted and picked up the black goose, moving it four spaces.

  Crecy rolled again. Another double six. She gave an excited burst of laughter and moved her goose on again. Gabriel narrowed his eyes at her and picked up the dice once more. A five and a four made him glower a little, but he moved his piece, looking up at Crecy as she tutted and gave a sad shake of her head.

  “Oh, dear,” she said with a sigh. “You’ve landed on the inn.”

  “So?” he demanded with such suspicion that she had to bite back her laughter.

  “Well, it’s a very good inn you see,” she explained, struggling to keep a straight face as her explanation made him look ever more indignant. “And all that good food and wine has made you sleepy, so you miss a turn.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” he growled, staring at her hard. “Are you sure you’re not making this up?”

  “I’m not!” she retorted, snatching up the sheet of instructions and waving it under his nose. “See for yourself.”

  Gabriel took the sheet from her, reading it and casting it aside in disgust before he returned to the game, grumbling about the stupid rules the entire time. Crecy threw again. Double six. She bit her lip and turned to look at Gabriel with trepidation.

  “Are you cheating?” he demanded, looking really rather cross.

  “No!” Crecy flushed, feeling rather indignant herself. How dare he? “I would never do such a thing. Besides,” she added with a sniff, “there’s no need.”

  Gabriel narrowed his eyes once more. “I’ve never seen anyone throw three double sixes in a row,” he muttered, still sounding suspicious.

  “Well, perhaps it’s witchcraft,” she teased him, widening her eyes and waggling her fingers in a spooky manner. “Or maybe I’m the devil in disguise.”

  Gabriel snorted. “That, I can believe.”

  “Yes, I know,” she said with perfect seriousness as she moved the goose around the board. “I don’t doubt that’s exactly what you tell yourself the moment I’m out of your sight.”

  He fell silent, and she knew she’d struck too close to the truth. He hadn’t enough belief in himself to understand why she should want to know him at all. The only explanation he’d understand was that she was up to something.

  “Oh, bother.”

  Gabriel sat up at her despondent tone to look at the board. “Ha!” he exclaimed, not sounding the least bit chivalrous as he noticed that she’d fallen in the well. “You lose two turns.”

  Over the next ten minutes or so, it dawned on Crecy that Gabriel was really rather competitive. She looked up at him, realising that he was utterly absorbed in their silly game, and felt her heart ache that there had never been anyone to be silly and childish with him before.

  “Your go,” he said, and Crecy returned her attention to the board. They were neck and neck now, each having to throw an exact number to land on field sixty three and win the game. Crecy bit her lip as the counters hit the board.

  “Damn!” she cursed, banging the table top with frustration.

  Gabriel gave a bark of delight. “Prison for you, my girl. I told you you’d come to no good.”

  “Well, there’s no need to crow about it,” she said with a huff, only to exclaim once more as he threw a two and a four and landed neatly on the last field.

  “I win!” he said, eyes glittering with triumph.

  “Well, really, Gabriel,” she said, folding her arms. “I think it positively monstrous of you not to let me win. I am your guest, after all,” she added with a pout. She didn’t m
ean it in the least, of course, but she was so enjoying his pleasure in his triumph over her.

  “That’s what you get for cheating,” he said, looking far too smug.

  “I did not!” Crecy said, rising to the bait, even though she knew he was teasing her. “You take that back!”

  “No,” he said, grinning at her in such a fashion that her heart did a strange little leap in her chest, thudding in a rather uneven manner.

  “Fine,” she said, folding her arms and putting up her chin as she pouted at him. “Then I won’t let you kiss me.”

  He was quiet for a moment, and she refused to look at him, her head turned away in an imperious sulk.

  “Yes, you will,” he replied, a smooth, dark tone that did something to make her insides feel like they were melting into a puddle. Crecy gave a little sniff and looked back at him.

  “Whatever makes you think so?” she demanded in her haughtiest tone.

  “Because you’ve been dying for me to kiss you ever since you got here.”

  She flushed a little, as it was perfectly true, but held his gaze, arching one eyebrow.

  “Then what the devil are you waiting for?”

  Chapter 14

  “Wherein the winner takes his prize.”

  Gabriel’s expression was unreadable for a moment, and she held herself still, expecting any moment that he should move towards her to take his kiss. But then she saw a rather wicked look creep into his eyes that made her shiver with expectation.

  “No,” he said, holding her gaze. “I won. I’m the victor. You should kiss me.”

  Crecy felt desire surge beneath her skin and looked away from him, taking a moment to rearrange her skirts while her heart thudded in her ears. “For someone who didn’t want to play, you’re awfully proud of yourself.”

  “And you’re a bad loser.”

  She looked up at him then, scowling a little. “Am not.”

  Gabriel shrugged.

  “Come here, then,” she said, hoping to keep the upper hand, as she was feeling hot and nervous and a little like things could get quickly out of control if she wasn’t rather more careful than usual. But he just shook his head, a slow back and forth movement as those indigo eyes studied her.