“I wanted to…” He hesitated and took a long breath. “Juliet, I wanted to thank you.”
She drew back a step in surprise, nearly parting their hands in the process. “Thank me?” she repeated in confusion.
He nodded. “My—my lack of emotion makes things difficult. I don’t think I ever realized how difficult until recently. But you have helped me immeasurably.”
Juliet shook her head. “You are constantly telling me how you feel no emotion, but you are wrong. You don’t lack feelings, Gabriel. Oh, you have a hard exterior, certainly, and you lean on logic first, but that doesn’t mean you are emotionless.”
He turned his face. “I—”
She ignored the interruption and plowed forward, determined to make him hear her. “You love your sister so deeply. You love all your family.”
“That isn’t the same,” he said, shifting as if to move away from her. This time she caught his hand with both of hers and held him steady.
“It most certainly is! And even if it weren’t, I have seen you be both kind and caring to others. To me.”
He drew in a breath. “But it is…hard for me to express what I do feel. There is a lump in my throat that I can’t get past.”
Juliet saw the desperate vulnerability in his eyes then. The need to be understood. Accepted. She shivered as she reached up and cupped his cheeks with both her hands.
“There is no right way to feel or to express those feelings, Gabriel. But please stop telling yourself that it means you are empty of emotion like some kind of monster. Because I do not believe that.”
He stared at her for a long moment and she felt him digesting what she said, felt his desire to run from it and from the connection they shared. The one she could no longer deny, even if she wanted to do so. The one that was as beautiful as it was dangerous.
Then he reached up to slide his fingers into her hair. He tilted her head slightly, angling her for a kiss as he whispered, “What do I feel now?”
His mouth moved to cover hers and she opened to him with a long sigh of pleasure. It hadn’t been all that long since he last touched her, but it felt like forever every time. She was starved of him and wanted to feast. So she didn’t resist as he moved her away from the window and toward the settee in the middle of the room. He lowered her there and pressed another kiss to her lips before he got up and locked the parlor door.
She smiled as he returned, reveling in this moment of privacy where they could surrender to the desires that boiled between them. She opened her arms and he fell into them, his mouth more heated against hers now, his tongue driving for pleasure.
She lifted into him, reveling in the slick slide of their mouths and the pressure of his weight pinning her to the settee. She could stay like this forever and be perfectly happy.
But he seemed to have other ideas. His kiss drew away from her mouth, to her throat, and then lower, kissing her breasts through her gown, her stomach. He slid to his knees before her and slowly slid her dress up to bunch it around her hips and expose her by parting her drawers.
Although he had seen her naked, had her more than once, she still squirmed at his suddenly close perusal of her sex. He was analyzing her, just as he might analyze any mechanism.
“Gabriel,” she murmured.
He didn’t stop looking at her. “I’m thinking,” he said before he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her.
She arched beneath him with a whoosh of breath, bringing herself to meet his mouth. He chuckled against her skin. “Studying you is a far greater pleasure than any other science.”
She couldn’t formulate a reasonable response, for he parted the outer lips of her sex with his thumbs and licked her from the tight little rosebud of her bottom all the way to the tingling pearl of her clitoris.
The pleasure brought her alive, and she writhed as he repeated the action again and again, in a smooth, steady rhythm that teased her and brought her closer to completion. She lifted to him, urging him forward, rewarding his strokes with moans and cries she couldn’t hold back.
His licks grew less long and languid, focusing more and more on the bud of her pleasure. He swirled his tongue there, applying perfect pressure even as two of his fingers stole to her entrance. She bucked as he glided them inside, pumping gently while he stroked and stroked her clitoris.
The dam built in pressure between her legs, bringing the pleasure to almost a point of frustrating pain before he sucked her clitoris between his lips and the world came to a halt. Pleasure burst and she arched up wildly, her body shaking with uncontrolled spasms. She clung to the settee cushions for purchase, but there was no being saved from this. He tore her pleasure from her in heavy strokes until she went weak beneath him, her only sounds incoherent whimpers of encouragement and pleading mixed.
He continued to tease her with his mouth even as he withdrew his fingers from her trembling body. He unfastened his trouser flap, freeing the hard erection there. She mewled at the sight of it, aching for him to be inside her where everything was hot and heady and oh-so-ready for more.
He didn’t deny her. Bracing himself on the settee behind her, he glided into her. Her wet body offered no resistance and he grunted as he slid all the way to the hilt in the first long stroke.
“God,” he moaned in a garbled tone. “I need you.”
She stared up at him, startled by that confession. His face was filled with all the emotion she had earlier proclaimed he possessed. He was a man taut with desire, soft with gentle passion, skating a line between control and utter oblivion.
And she loved him so very much.
That realization didn’t shock her, even though the floating sense of it should have been surprising. Of course she loved him. She had loved him from the first moment she looked up from the figure of his sick mother and found him at the door, fear and agony on his handsome face. She had loved him even when he challenged her.
She had loved him all along.
She couldn’t say that, though. Gabriel didn’t want her love. He wanted her help and her body. He had never offered more and it would be desperately unfair to demand it now.
So she reached up and drew him down to her, kissing him and tasting herself on his lips, crying out as he lost himself in thrusting into her willing body. They moved together, like they had been built to do so, and quickly the fading pleasure brought by his mouth returned. Only this time it was made more intense by her realization of her feelings for him.
The pleasure crested as she twisted beneath him, moaning out his name, holding back words of love and shuddering at the power of what their bodies could do together. His thrusts became erratic and he let out a low moan as he withdrew and came.
He collapsed beside her on the narrow settee and gathered her all but into his lap. He kissed her cheeks, her neck, her temple as their panting breaths began to slow, to match.
“You told me you would become proficient,” she teased, hoping to lighten the moment so she wouldn’t say things that would only result in pain for them both. “I never should have doubted you.”
He laughed, that rare sound so beautiful in the air around them, and smoothed a thumb across her cheek gently. “When it comes to a subject I am passionate about, I always become proficient,” he said. Then he kissed her again and her mind finally emptied of all thoughts but his touch.
Chapter Eighteen
Gabriel clenched his fist as he sat in the ugly, rundown tavern on the edge of one of the worst neighborhoods in all of London. He looked around the room at the dirty men at tables playing cards and the worn-out women trying to make some coin by serving them drinks or serving themselves up. He couldn’t help but think of Claire. Had she been forced into a similar life?
He pushed the ugly thoughts away and focused on matters at hand. Jude’s inquiries into the name Adam Howe had brought them to this awful place. He watched as his brother-in-law stood with the barkeep across the room, tossing back a drink from a suspicious
ly dirty glass and making small talk. The server looked nervous. His eyes kept darting around the room like he thought they were being watched.
Gabriel wondered if they were.
He straightened up as Jude returned and took a place across from him.
“He acts like he doesn’t, but they know Howe,” Jude said, wiping sticky crumbs from the ancient wooden tabletop.
“And?” Gabriel asked.
Jude shook his head. “He kept muttering about not asking questions, trying to put me off. But by the way he kept looking around, I’d wager our interest has been marked. And if we wait here a while, we’ll at least see what will be done about it. You are armed, yes?”
Gabriel nodded, shifting his ankle against the small pistol in his boot. He hadn’t ever shot at a person before. He hoped he wouldn’t have to do so this afternoon.
“While we wait,” Jude said, leaning back in his chair, “I wonder if you might want to talk to me.”
“About what?” Gabriel asked as he glanced around the bar. The gamblers at one of the tables had gathered up their things. The men were staggering from the tavern with dark glares for Jude and himself. “Do you see—”
Jude nodded. “I do. I’m guessing they were told to clear out. Open the place up for whoever is coming to discuss our interest. And when I said talk to me, I suppose I am talking about Juliet Gray.”
Gabriel jolted at the sweet sound of her name in this ugly place. It was discordant and made him uncomfortable. “What is there to discuss?”
Jude cleared his throat. “You will make me spell it out? Very well, then. You have been searching for Claire for over two years and you always bristled at the idea of us bringing in outsiders to help.”
Gabriel stared at the tabletop. “I didn’t want my sister talked about by strangers.”
“Not strangers. Trained professionals. And yet here you bring a very untrained stranger into the middle of your search. You’ve obviously shared a great deal of information with Juliet. And I think perhaps more than information.”
Gabriel lifted his gaze. “Be careful what you say, Jude.”
His brother-in-law arched a brow. “Are you trifling with her?”
Gabriel nearly choked at the direct question. Jude was watching him with almost bored detachment, waiting to see his reaction. He gripped his fist tighter.
“No. I don’t know.”
Jude’s expression softened. “Or is it worse? Do you care for her?”
He swallowed. “I don’t care for anyone.”
“That’s balderdash and we both know it,” Jude said with a shake of his head. “But your avoidance of the topic certainly gives me at least some of the answer.”
“And what do you think you know?” Gabriel asked. Jude’s gaze was very focused on him now. It felt almost inescapable.
“When Audrey and I went to Idleridge in the summer,” Jude said slowly, “I was determined not to let my desire for her make any impact on our lives.”
Gabriel gritted his teeth. Although he was very happy for Audrey and Jude and saw their union as a good match, he was still put off by how it had come to be.
“That is my sister,” he reminded the other man.
Jude nodded. “Indeed it is. I’m not going to trouble you with details. I only want to say that I thought controlling physical need would stop everything. But I couldn’t even do that. And I swiftly realized that our emotional connection was far more dangerous and intense.”
Gabriel looked at the table rather than his companion. He wasn’t about to admit he knew the truth in Jude’s words.
“For you, I assume it must be more difficult,” his brother-in-law continued. “After all, you are not exactly experienced when it comes to women.”
None of the men in his family knew the extent of that statement. Gabriel had kept his private business just that: private. And he would continue to do so, for himself, but also to protect Juliet from their stares.
“Nothing to say, then?” Jude asked, his tone gentle. “Because I would be happy to hear it and not judge or talk about it as much as, say, Evan or Edward might.”
“I’m not going to gossip with you,” Gabriel said through clenched teeth.
“I’m not talking about gossip,” Jude said. “I’m asking if you need a friend to talk to, nothing more.”
Gabriel shifted, looking again at Jude. He could see his friend was sincere, but could he open up? Could he turn to another person with…emotions?
Whatever his decision might have been, it was preempted when the doors to the tavern came open and a tall, thin man stepped through, flanked by two larger men. Gabriel stiffened.
“I think our friends are here,” he murmured.
Jude’s face grew hard and he jerked out one nod as he slowly turned to face the newcomers. The thinner man scanned over the room, and finally his gaze settled on them.
“I’ve heard you two were looking for me,” he drawled.
Jude stood up. Gabriel followed suit. “Depends. Are you Adam Howe?” Jude asked.
“The very one,” Howe jeered.
He was dressed well, perhaps he might have passed for someone well-born if he needed to, or with those who didn’t know better. But Gabriel saw other signs that betrayed the truth. The bad posture, the hint of rotting teeth, the wolfish look in his eyes. There was an air of the street about him.
“Won’t you join us, Mr. Howe?” Jude said, smooth as anything.
Gabriel was amazed by it, for he doubted he would be so calm if he were the one running this conversation. But he had to be collected now. He had to stop letting emotion rule him and return to his normal self, his rational self. Claire needed that.
Howe lifted a hand and swiped it toward the bar, sending his thugs to sit there. The two never turned their backs on the table where Gabriel and Jude sat. Gabriel observed them both, making quick judgment about the threat. Their size was not the only warning. He saw the outline of a pistol in the jacket of the one on the left and could only assume the other was armed, as well. He saw the tension in the posture of both men. They were coiled, ready to strike. They were weapons, tools of Howe.
Howe pulled out a chair, turned it around and sat facing the two, with another rotting smile that did not meet his eyes.
“You two are far too fancy folk to belong here,” he said. “So what do you want?”
Gabriel took a long breath. “I’d like my sister back,” he said, managing to remain calm somehow.
Howe’s eyebrows lifted. “Your sister. Did the little lady of your manor run off to tup for money? What a sad story.”
Gabriel gripped a fist against his leg under the table. “Not exactly,” he ground out. “My sister is named Claire.”
He didn’t have to say anymore. Howe’s smile fell, his eye twitched slightly and it was clear he knew exactly who Gabriel was talking about. “I knew you didn’t belong. So you’re the brothers of Lady Claire.”
The mocking tone of voice he used grated along Gabriel’s spine, but he managed to rein in his emotions once again. They were pesky things, indeed, for they kept roaring up now that he had allowed them to be unleashed even in the slightest.
“Yes. And your name has come up in our search for her. So if you know what’s best for you, I think it’s time to talk,” Jude said, leaning forward. “And I would wager a man like you always knows what’s best for him.”
Howe’s lips pressed hard together and he stared at the two men. “I do, indeed, know what’s best for me, gentlemen. But it ain’t you. Jonathon Aston isn’t a man to be fucked with, especially when it comes to Claire. That woman is his obsession and anyone, and I mean anyone, who messes with that will get more than what they have coming for them.”
Gabriel tensed. This was yet another troubling glimpse into Claire’s life that made his stomach turn. He leaned in. “I know a bit about obsession, Mr. Howe,” he growled. “And you don’t want to see what happens when I don’t get what I want,
either.”
Howe grinned, but there was a light of anger and also intense fear in his eyes that Gabriel didn’t miss. Howe stood up and the pair he had brought with him immediately did the same, stepping toward the table with menacing glares.
“There’s no reason in the world for me to help you two,” he said. “And I won’t. Forget about your sister, she’s lost. She’s dead to you. Move on.”
Gabriel lunged up and grabbed for Howe. He caught him by the shoulders and shook his so hard his head rocked back. “Tell me where she is, goddamn it.”
The two thugs jumped at him and the first to reach him swung, connecting right on Gabriel’s jaw. He flew back across the floor, hitting the table where they’d been sitting and shattering it. The wind left his lungs, but he didn’t care. He struggled to get back to his feet, spoiling to fight at last, but before he could Howe drew a pistol in one smooth motion. Gabriel found himself looking down its barrel as the two larger men turned their attention on Jude, grabbing his arms to hold him back from helping Gabriel.
“You think you can rule over me just because you have some fancy name and title, you fop?” Howe growled. “Think again. I wouldn’t help you if you were bleeding in the middle of the street. Let me repeat my advice one last time: forget your sister. And forget this investigation of yours or you will be sorry. You or someone else you care about.”
He didn’t pocket the gun, but Howe motioned to his bodyguards, who tossed Jude aside just as handily as they had done to Gabriel. His brother-in-law managed to stay upright, though he skidded across the floor backward. Howe backed toward the door, smiling at the two.
“Stay out of my business, of Aston’s business,” he warned once more before he ducked out of the room with his nasty partners behind him.
Jude came toward Gabriel and offered him a hand to help him up from amidst the wreckage of their table. Gabriel hardly registered the assistance—he was too busy watching the spot where Howe had left.
“They are very dangerous,” he muttered.
Jude nodded. “Very.”
“Claire,” he said softly.
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