by Shirl Anders
]Chapter Nine
Drummond paused some moments later just outside the half-chiseled, glass doors, leading into the gaming salon with his hand poised on the golden knob, shaped in the outline of a lion's head. He admitted to himself that he was disturbed, as he slowly lifted his hand from the knob, not only by the kiss, but by Gabriella herself. Everything would have been splendid, more than he could ever have hoped to imagine, except then Wyndham had arrived unexpected.
"Christ," he muttered, stepping backward away from the door. He could not ignore, Gabriella's feelings completely. Of course, he could override the ones that stifled her natural passions, those devilish strictures that they bombarded into every woman in their society, with feelings of shame over their nude bodies and the denial of their sexual yearnings. These same teachings, that only a wanton or a whore would enjoy her husband's baser needs with anything more than duty.
It was all balderdash, putrid and banal philosophies that stripped the young women in their society of any chance of happiness in a man's arms. He could break down the barriers of these misbegotten codes. He could strip Gabriella of every misconception, by force if necessary, however what he could not do, is to lay hurtful waste to her pride and yes, even worse her honor.
Except, that is just what had happened with the untimely arrival of Wyndham. In Gabriella's heart she would be humiliated to have been seen thus, not even the spanking, but her body's exposure to another man, hardly an acquaintance, would shame her. And then to be brought into Wyndham's presence once again ... and so soon. No, he must regroup in this unexpected situation, and he told himself sternly, that none of his feelings in this had the least to do with the power and passion of that kiss.
"I will explain your absence," Harrison rasped as he stepped forward from a shadowed alcove to Drummond's right. "We will all be here throughout the weekend, nevertheless, as planned."
Drummond eyed Harrison with what he knew was a fierce glare. "Your stealth is renowned, my friend," he muttered.
Harrison merely smiled in a half glacier offering. "Wyndham is young and could hardly be expected to keep his mouth closed to such groundbreaking events, therefore I have only to suppose what your feelings might be."
"And you really believe that you know me so well," Drummond questioned tightly.
"We know each other so well," Harrison rasped. "Although, I cannot ever recall seeing you as you appear now. I only hope, should I ever be unlucky enough to take this fall into love, that it will not be quite as painful as it appears on your face."
"Scoundrel," Drummond growled, turning to retrace his steps.
"Most assuredly," Harrison whispered in a ghostly inflection to Drummond's retreating back.