He returned to Cassie, laying his fingers atop hers where they rested on the slope of her shoulder. Hers were ice-cold.

"Your bath is ready, Cassie."

That brought her eyes skipping back to his in a flash. Gabriel smiled almost in spite of himself. "I did promise we would one day bathe together, did I not?"

Her wide-eyed dismay did not go unnoticed. His smile withered. His gaze dropped to her lips --they were soft and slightly parted. The urge to part them beneath the demanding pressure of his took hold, but he swiftly quelled the impulse.

"You have nothing to fear," he said very quietly. "I am not such a cad as you think."

He gave her no time to reject him but set to work on the hooks at the back of her gown. She offered no resistance but a faint pink flush crept beneath her skin. That she gave herself over to him was a sign of just how shaken she really was -- such unconditional surrender was the last thing Gabriel had expected. His mood turned grim by the time he'd finished, however. The ivory smoothness of her skin was marred by dozens of scratches and bruises.

Cassie flushed as he helped her into the tub, acutely aware that there was no evading the critical regard that saw so much of her and revealed so little of himself. She sank below the waterline as far as she could, desperate to hide her nakedness.

She started nervously when she felt his touch. The back of his knuckles brushed her cheek, then firm fingers grasped her jaw and turned her face to the lamplight glowing from the corner.

His thumb brushed the puffy skin on the right side of her lip. "Did he do this, too?"

Her lashes fell in answer. She drew her knees up to her breasts and said nothing, for indeed there was no need to.

Gabriel didn't understand the blind, irrational anger that swept through him. He told himself it was only because she'd been taken advantage of by one who was stronger than she -- not because he cared ... never that. But a muscle in his cheek betrayed the depth of his fury. Never had he known a rage as encompassing as that which possessed him now.

"Would you recognize him if you saw him again?" '

Cassie shuddered. The heat of the water had seeped through to her muscles, warm and soothing. But all at once it was as if she'd been plunged into a sea of ice.

"Yes ... no." She faltered, suddenly feeling wholly inadequate. "I ... I just don't know."

Gabriel made no reply. He handed her a sponge and turned his back, allowing her the privacy he knew she craved. Cassie washed hurriedly, beset by the notion he would turn back around at any second. An inner voice chided her, for what did it matter anyway? He had seen what no other man had ever seen. And he had touched her in ways she had never dreamed a man might touch a woman ... The hand holding the sponge stilled, directly above her heart. Her throat tightened oddly.

A part of her wished desperately that he would leave. Another part of her longed just as fervently for him to stay, for she did not want to be alone. Yet his nearness was an unsettling reminder of all that had passed between them only the night before -- Lord, but it seemed a lifetime had gone by since then!

Gabriel's nerves were keenly attuned to her every move. Eventually the splash of the water ceased. He glanced over his shoulder to find her eyes fixed upon him, wide and faintly distressed.

He beat down the heated rush that ignited in his veins, pooling hot and heavy in his loins. Her shoulders were bare and glistening. Never before had he been so sharply aware of one woman -- and his own hungry, masculine desires to possess her. Yet the very nakedness that so sorely tested his willpower was the very thing that saved her, for her vulnerability pierced him as nothing else could have.

He raised his brow with an elegant sweep. "Finished?" he murmured.

She nodded. Bracing her slender arms against the side of the tub, she rose, turning immediately into the length of toweling that awaited her in his hands.

The downy softness engulfed her first, and then his arms, as he lifted her from the tub. Cassie stood docilely as he proceeded to dry her. His touch was light and impersonal, and he was carefully considerate of the bruised, tender areas that marked her flesh. But her fiery blush proclaimed the depth of her embarrassment by the time he pulled a soft white nightgown over her head and twitched it into place.

There was a knock at the door. Gabriel answered it, taking a small tray from Gloria into his hands. Cassie hugged herself, feeling naked and exposed despite the fact she was now covered from head to foot. Gabriel inclined his head toward the chair before the fireplace, indicating she should sit. Once she was seated, he held out a delicate china cup and saucer. The sweet, enticing odor of chocolate teased her nostrils.

Cassie sipped the hot, sweet liquid, grateful for the opportunity to busy her hands. She was not aware of the piercing gray eyes that watched as she drank every last drop of the brew. Not until she had finished did she chance to look up and find his intense gaze upon her.

He had removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, baring strong, muscular forearms. The muscles of her stomach clenched. His elbow was propped against the mantel. His pose was casual, yet purely masculine; it appeared as if nothing -- or no one -- could ever hurt him.

It was he who broke the silence. "Giles told me you have been gone every afternoon the past few weeks." His eyes sheared directly into hers. "How is it you failed to mention this to me?" Despite the quiet of his tone, his words were no less than a demand.

Cassie swallowed bravely. It was difficult not to retreat from his frown. "I was not aware you cared to know my whereabouts at every moment of the day."

Gabriel's scrutiny sharpened. "That is hardly an answer," he said curtly. "Now if you please, I would like to know where you were today -- and all those other days."

Panic flared. She could not tell him where she had been without telling him why, and that was the one thing she wanted to avoid at all costs. He thought little enough of her now -- he would think even less of her if he were aware of the truth.

In this, at least, her dignity served her well. She stared at the rim of the cup she held in her hands, determined to reveal no more than necessary.

He swore under his breath. "Why must you be so stubborn? Dammit, Yank, I am concerned for your safety! It's not safe to be wandering the streets of London alone."

Still she avoided his gaze. "You need not trouble yourself. I was not wandering the streets, as you call it. I was in no danger"-- she faltered --" at least not until tonight."

"Then why will you not tell me where you were?" Two white lines of anger appeared alongside his mouth when she shook her head. Three strides brought him before her. He set aside the cup and saucer, caught her shoulders, and pulled her up before him.

"Were you meeting someone?" He knew the way she started that she had. "Christopher? Is that the reason for your reluctance? Was this a lover's tryst?"

"No!" she cried. "Christopher is my friend no more, and I will swear to it on the Cross if that is what it takes to convince you!"

"Who then?"

His patience was clearly at an end. There was a tempest alive and brewing in his eyes. Cassie fought a scalding rush of tears, the muscles in her throat locked tight.

"I was with ... your father," she whispered. "I I have been spending the afternoons ... at his townhouse."

Gabriel was astounded. "What! You and my father -- surely you jest!"

Wrenched with shame, she stammered, it's because I -- I cannot read ... I cannot read!"

There was a stunned silence. "Good God. Do not tell me that he has been teaching you."

"Yes ... yes!' Was he truly so heartless as to make her say it again? "He - he teaches me himself so no one else will know -- so no further disgrace will befall the family."

Gabriel's frustrated anger fled, as if it had never been. He sighed wearily. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why?" She gave a bitter half-sob. "Am I to be spared no humiliation? It would have pleased you to no end to know that I could not read -- it would have been just one more thing to flaunt to your father. ... the poor little Yankee you dragged from the gutter, who possesses neither money nor title nor even the slightest scrap of knowledge!"

He scowled. "Now it's you who wounds me -"

"No! It's true -- you would have." To her horror, a tear beaded down her cheek. Then another, and another. "You know it's true!" Above all, Cassie did not want him to see her like this. So foolish. So confused. But all at once her tenuous control was gone. She buried her face in her hands and began to cry. Helplessly. Pitifully.

Her shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. Slowly, with an almost painstaking hesitance, his arms came around her. Small hands wound into the front of his shirt. He bent and folded her into his embrace, then sat in the chair, cradling her in his lap.

He could feel her trying to hold back the anguish that rent her body. It was no use. "I'm sorry," she cried on a watery sob. "It's just as you said it would be. I am a burden ... an encumbrance. You must wish that -- that horrible man had killed me. I - I thought he was going to ... Oh, God, I - I wish I were dead. . ."

Gabriel went utterly still, both inside and out. "Don't say that." His whisper was numb and strained. "Don't even think it!"

He stroked her hair, the shallow groove of her spine. Gradually the laudanum began to take hold. She stirred. "Something's wrong." Drowsy and confused, she struggled to keep her lids from closing. "I feel so strange."

With his fingertips he brushed tear-damp strands of honey-gold from her cheeks. "It's all right. I asked Gloria to put several drops of laudanum in your chocolate to help you sleep. Just relax and don't fight it."

His explanation seemed to satisfy her. Her lashes, dark and spiked with tears, began to droop. Soon she quieted until she lay limply against him, asleep at last.

He lifted her, bearing her to the bed and laying her carefully on the mattress, then pulled the covers up over her. But when he would have straightened, she flung out a hand, groping blindly for his.

"Don't leave me, Gabriel. Don't leave me." Her eyes snapped open. Even as he watched, glistening tears brimmed and overflowed. "Why -- why do you hate me?" she cried brokenly. "Will you always hate me?"

Gabriel felt he'd been slammed in the gut with an iron fist. Guilt burned a searing hole deep in his breast. He stood, his entire body stiff, an awful tightening squeezing his heart.

Never had he been so torn.

He stared at the small hand so desperately gripping his own. A pain ripped through him, so searing it drove the very breath from his lungs. Christ, what was she doing to him?

Christopher had fallen under her spell. So had the dowager duchess of Greensboro. Giles. Lord, even his father! What magic did she possess that she so easily wove a spell around all those with whom she came in contact?

If he were wise, he'd let her go now. Before things progressed any further. Before she was hurt ... Fool, taunted a scathing voice in his mind, she's already been hurt.

Something bitterly dark and ominous crept over him. He despised the emotion she roused in him -for years he'd felt his heart encased in ice -- and he resented her fiercely for all he felt, for all she had made him feel... all he did not want to feel.

Yet he could not turn his back on her.

He sighed, a sound borne of weary resignation. After tugging off his boots, he stretched out beside her and drew her into his arms. He stared at the shadows dancing on the ceiling, a lean hand absently stroking the tangled length of her hair, the other measuring the slender nip of her waist.

It was she, he thought blackly, who had every reason to distrust him -- every reason to hate him. How could she possibly think he hated her? That he would wish her dead? But all at once Gabriel's blood ran cold.

God knew he did not ... but what if someone else did?

Chapter 15.

Several days later they returned to Farleigh. Gabriel made the decision the morning after Cassie was accosted. For the life of him, he couldn't rid himself of the unsettling notion that her kidnapping had, perhaps, not been a random incident, as the police believed. It made his blood boil every time he thought of it. By God, but he'd have liked to get his hands on the scoundrel -- he'd take him apart piece by piece!

But Gabriel had long since outgrown his reckless, careless youth. He would make no accusations -no assumptions -- without just cause. Perhaps his suspicions were unfounded -- more the better. But he offered a reward should her assailant be found, and he hired an investigator to return to Charleston. He did not doubt Cassie 's claim that her mother did not know the identity of her father, or that the vile woman had abandoned her. But if there was someone from her past who might be responsible, Gabriel intended to find out. Perhaps there was some connection between the shooting and her kidnapping -perhaps there was not. But Gabriel had decided it would be easier to keep her safe at Farleigh rather than in London. He said nothing to Cassie, though. He did not want her to worry herself lest his suspicions were unfounded.

While another might have deemed his behavior toward his wife fiercely possessive -- and even more protective -- Gabriel did not acknowledge such a thing, even to himself ... especially to himself.

The days flowed into weeks. Though he struggled to maintain a cool distance from the beauty who was his wife, his feelings were far from indifferent ... indifferent?! Gabriel was discovering she was far too tempting for his peace of mind. He had not bargained on the hungry desire she aroused in him. It was torture, having her forever at hand, so near and yet unable to touch her.

She had only to enter a room and all she stirred in him rushed to the fore. He was vastly irritated with himself, for where Cassie was concerned, he was no longer in control of his emotions. Her slightest accidental touch, the merest scent of her perfume, sent sharp needles of desire raking along his spine.

Hardest of all was sleeping with but a single wall between them. Even in his sleep his mind plunged backward. He yearned for lips as tender and dewy as moist summer herries. He could almost feel her beneath him once more, her skin sleek and soft beneath his lips and hands, her woman's flesh clasped hot and tight around his rigid hardness. Countless times he woke marble-hard and throbbing, his shaft ready to burst the bonds of his skin ... No, indeed, Gabriel had not forgotten the shattering night they had shared.

Nor had she.

In truth, Cassie was heartily relieved when they London. The whirlwind pace of the city still left her in awe. So many of the parties she had attended were boring, the people shallow with the exception of a handful. And though she tried to brush it aside, that horrible encounter with the footpad had left her wary of every shadow and stranger.

She loved the peace and quiet at Farleigh, the smell of the fresh, country air, the lush greenery. As often as she could, she indulged her newfound love of riding. She often rode with Evelyn, who had returned to Warrenton with her father. But when she did not, Gabriel had been most insistent that a groom accompany her.

But all was not as it had been before. Oh, there had always been a tingling current of awareness whenever she and Gabriel had chanced to lock gazes. But there was a difference now -- a sizzling tension that made Cassie heartstoppingly aware that everything had changed. Her heart set up a wild hammering whenever he was near. And he was forever on her mind, though she tried her very best to put him out of it.

But he kept her ever off-guard, for she never knew what to expect from him. He could be charming and ever so pleasant when he wished. At other times he was so distant and aloof she wanted to cry. She found herself wondering if he would visit her bed again. The very thought made her tremble -- but with excitement or fear she was not certain!

Only the night before, he had walked her to her room. At the door, she shyly bid him good night. But he did not move on to his door, as she expected. He stood there, his eyes night-dark and burning.

Her heart had skipped a beat. The heated blaze she saw -- was it desire -- or anger? Her confidence in herself was tenuous at best. Did he still find her humble beginnings distasteful? Oh, if only she were like Evelyn -- delicate and blond, sweet and refined. For she was very much afraid that was the kind of woman Gabriel preferred ...

A lady. A pang swept through her. God above knew she would never truly be a lady, not like Evelyn. For no matter what the rest of the world thought, Gabriel would never see her as one ...

"Was there something else?" She could not hide her nervousness, nor could she look away from him. Her mind was all awhirl. He smelled of soap and crisp starch. She fought the strangest urge to lay her palm against his lean cheek, to feel the slight roughness of his jaw against her fingertips.

His gaze was fastened on her lips. It shocked her to realize just how badly she longed to feel his lips upon hers, taking command of her senses, arousing her with devastating persuasion. But the very idea spawned heated images in her mind that were best left undisturbed.

Later she chided herself, knowing she should have been glad he had merely bid her good night and moved on to his room. But Cassie, unable to deny it, felt her disappointment like a weighted stone on her breast, for God help her, she had wanted him to kiss her ...

On this particular evening, he stared at her all through dinner in a way that made her grow hot all over. She and Edmund then sat at a rosewood table playing whist. Edmund had only recently taught her the game, and to her delight, she was fully capable of besting him. Gabriel sat in the corner, his long, elegant legs stretched out before him, nursing a brandy.

The hour was still early when Cassie began to yawn. She had been feeling dreadfully tired of late and rarely seemed to get enough sleep. To her embarrassment, usually everyone in the household was up and bustling about long before she arose.

She sent a slight smile across the shiny parquet topped table toward Edmund. "You, sir," she said lightly, "are very fond of winning. Therefore I believe I will cry off, and plead my excuses."

Edmund frowned. "But it's still early yet."

Cassie glanced across at Gabriel. "Perhaps Gabriel will join you."

The corners of the duke's mouth turned down. "I know better than to ask such a thing of him. Gabriel is nothing like Stuart -- why, Stuart could have played the night through! But Gabriel was never one to play whist for the sheer sport of it. I have it on good authority that he is not fond of cards unless there is a wager involved and the stakes are high."

The subject of their discussion rose and ambled toward them. Those beautifully masculine lips smiled, but as always, his regard was distinctly cool as it rested upon his father. "I've not seen the inside of a gaming hall for quite some time, Father. And I daresay in a game of chance you and I are evenly matched." That wickedly beguiling smile widened. "But in a game of skill and wits, well, you may have noticed, my love, that neither of us likes to lose."

My love. Cassie felt her face grow hot. She darted a glance at Edmund. Though his expression was not precisely disapproving, she sensed his displeasure. And though Gabriel's tone was deceptively pleasant, she had the distinct impression he was Deliberately taunting his father.

Smoothing her skirts, she got to her feet, doing her best to summon a smile. "I fear I must say good night, for I simply cannot stay awake another minute."

"I will escort you to your room then." Gabriel set aside his glass and took her elbow. Neither was aware of the speculative gaze that trailed them as they left.

At her door, she tilted her head back to regard her husband. "If you do not mind," she stated evenly, "I would like a word with you in private."

A mocking brow climbed high. "Why, Yank," he drawled. "Are you inviting me in to your chamber? This is an unexpected surprise."

Cassie colored, yet somehow she managed to retain her calm. Turning, she entered her room. Gabriel said nothing but followed her inside.

The quiet was all-encompassing. She crossed to stand before the fireplace, feeling the need to put some distance between them. As always, Gabriel's presence was unnerving. Though he did not touch her, she felt as if he did.

She folded her hands together before her and gathered all her courage. "In all the time we have been married," she said quietly, "I have asked you for nothing."

He gave a short laugh. "True enough, Yank. Though you've cost me a pretty sum indeed, you have asked for nothing -- and no doubt you've acquired far more in the bargain."