Her embarrassment at standing nearly naked in front of him fled as if it had never been. Cassie's heart surely stopped in that moment. She held herself perfectly still, wishing it would last forever. She had never dared hope he would say such a thing -- never. The words were like music to her heart, a healing balm to her soul.

A lean hand slid beneath the fall of her hair, cupping her nape. He pulled her head back slowly, so that she could not look away from the searing intensity of his gaze.

"I am tired of pretending I do not want you, Yank, when I have wanted you from the start -- when I suddenly find that is all I want. Oh, I know I told myself I wanted revenge. I told myself I could handle it, that I could accept a marriage in name only -- that you were beautiful but I've lain with other women just as beautiful. But I was wrong. For you are ever on my mind, ever and always."

His eyes darkened. "But know this. If you come to me tonight, then that door will remain forever open. I will not be barred from your bed. If you cannot accept that, then I suggest you leave now. Either way, the choice is yours."

Her eyes clung to his. The tension spun out endlessly. Just when he thought he could bear it no longer, first one small fist crept up to rest on his chest, and then the other.

It was all the encouragement he needed. He reached for her, eager to claim what she so temptingly offered. "So be it;" he muttered, "for I can wait no longer."

He kissed her then, a wordless entreaty that spoke of desire long denied. Her lips quivered beneath his, then parted. He felt her response, sweet, warm, and clinging. The reins of control snapped within him.

With a groan he crushed her against him, lifting her full off her feet. The pressure of his mouth was no less fierce than before, yet there was a difference. He kissed her as a starving man consumed the most bounteous of feasts. The taste of brandy was heady on his tongue ... but so was the tormented hunger, and Cassie exalted in it. She twined her arms around him and shamelessly pressed her body against his.

Her nightgown met the same fate as her dressing gown. Their lips still ardently fused in a long, unbroken kiss, he swung her up into his arms and laid her on the counterpane. Only then did he reluctantly release her mouth, shrugging his shirt from his shoulders. He straightened, his hands at the buttons of his breeches.

Though she could feel a heated tide of embarrassment coloring her entire body, Cassie could not tear her gaze away. As each straining button was released, hair that was darker and coarser than the wiry mat on his chest filled the ever-widening gap.

His manhood sprang taut and free. Deep inside her, it spun through her mind that she had been hoping praying -- that her imagination had played havoc with her memory of the night she had lost her virginity ...

It had not.

He bent and freed his legs of his breeches, kicking them aside and turning to face her. Oh, she could not deny there was a wild, primitive beauty to his body. His shoulders were wide and sleek, his arms and legs long and lean, spare and tight. She tried to mask it, but her pulse skittered madly in alarm. Though she knew it was not so, it flashed through her mind that what he intended was not possible ... between the corded stretch of muscled thighs his manhood stood stiffly, rigidly erect.

She turned her gaze to safer territory, focusing on the chiseled beauty of his mouth as he stretched out beside her. But Gabriel had heard the deep, shuddering breath she drew.

He spoke, his tone dangerously low and tense with frustration. "We've come too far for you to change your mind, Yank."

Through some miracle, she whispered, "I have not."

"What, then? Are you afraid of me?"

She shook her head, but her expression told him otherwise. Her eyes were wild and panicked.

He turned her in his arms, his hold loose but all-encompassing. His nearness was overwhelming. The scent of man and musk swirled all around, mingled with the cologne he used. His mouth hovered just above hers, so close her very breath seemed not her own.

Lean fingers brushed stray strands of honey-gold from her flaming cheeks. "If you are not;' he said softly, "then why do you tremble like a frightened bird?"

Her fingers curled and uncurled in the furry darkness on his chest. Her breath tumbled out in a shaky rush. "Because I... I want to please you ... and ... oh, it's not you ... so much as -- as what you will do ... and what you will do it with..." She buried her head on his chest in abject shame.

Gabriel sucked in a harsh breath. Had she known what effect her confession would provoke, he felt certain she would never have made it. Though he'd have sworn it was not possible, his straining rod swelled to even greater proportions. The pulse in his shaft raced apace with the thudding of his heart.

With his thumb he traced the vein throbbing wildly in her throat. "I'll not hurt you again," he muttered. "That pain when I first took you ... a woman has it but once, Cassie."

She did not believe him. Though she did not outwardly deny it, her lips were tremulous, her struggle vivid in her eyes. Yet she did not tear herself away, as he suspected she wanted to. Some emotion that was almost painfully intense caught at his heart, knowing that despite her apprehensions, she would give herself over to him so completely. In an instant, his decision was made. He'd never been pretty with words, not really.

He could show her far better.

The suddenness of his movement wrung a gasp from her. His hand engulfed hers and dragged it down over the grid of his belly ... still further.

With unyielding pressure he guided her, filling her palm with himself, curling cool fingers around his burning shaft.

Her innocent touch inflamed him almost past bearing. He gritted his teeth against the urge to tighten her grip and pump his hips --she clasped but half of him --to take his satisfaction in this way and spare her the invasion of her body. Yet he sensed that, too, would shock his untutored young bride to her very core.

Nor were his motives entirely unselfish. He wanted to possess her, to fill her with his pounding essence, for she was his ...

His and no other's.

"Feel," he said thickly. "Feel how my body craves yours. But do not forget I am but flesh and blood. This is but flesh and blood --and more desire than my body can contain." His words were heated and shattering, raw and undisguised. "Oh, yes, you please me, Yank. You please me more than you can know." His eyes sheared into hers. "Now let me please you."

His mouth captured hers. With a low moan, she caught his head in her hands and surrendered to her passion ... and to his. God, but it felt so good to be held ... to be touched. Her mouth was as sweetly clinging as his was greedy.

A shudder rippled through him as her tongue sparred tentatively with his. She reveled in it and in the way his thumbs traced slow, maddening circles around the pouting tips of her breasts, teasing, skimming lightly back and forth. They seemed to peak and swell, springing tight and engorged.

She longed to clamp his hand there that she might capture that elusive pleasure.

Slowly he raised his head, his gaze dark and brilliant. She was irresistibly beautiful, her breasts round and delectably full, her nipples deep coral centers against pale, unblemished flesh. He kissed her there now, an odd little laugh escaping as her breathing hastened.

"You're very sensitive there, aren't you, sweet?"

He shifted suddenly, gently squeezing and filling his hands with ripe, jutting flesh. His tongue came out to touch the very tip of one deep rouge circle, leaving it shiny and wet and aching. A stab of sheer pleasure bolted through her.

She couldn't look, and she gasped at the shocking sensation as he took the whole of her nipple deep in his mouth. The wanton lashing of his tongue was wild and erotic ... an exquisite delight. Her head fell back as he licked and sucked first one dark nipple and then the other. She gave a breathless little cry of ecstasy.

His mouth came back to hers, devouring and consuming, his tongue plunging hotly between her lips in a blatantly evocative rhythm. Tormenting fingers skimmed a nerve-shattering path across the sensitive skin of her belly. But she gasped when those same fingertips embedded themselves in the tight gold curls at the apex of her thighs. Cassie cried out and sought to clamp her thighs tightly together. But his hand was already firmly entrenched there, undaunting as he staked his claim.

"Don't fight me, Yank." His whisper was low and strained. "I promise I'l not fail you now." He kissed her with slow, seductive persuasion, letting her adjust to this intimacy until at last he felt her tension subside.

With the tips of his fingers he taunted and teased, lightly brushing, retreating, then returning ever bolder. She shuddered both inside and out as those devilish fingers parted tender pink folds of flesh, sliding sleek and bold and sure along each side of her furrowed cleft.

Blistering flames licked through her as his thumb joined the foray, brushing an achingly sensitive bud of flesh she had not known she possessed. Her body seemed to swell and throb and weep. She cried out softly as one long, strong finger flexed deep inside her, again and again. And all the while his thumb now worked its magic, circling and rubbing until there was a raging inferno blazing inside her.

Eyes closed as if to shut out the delicious torture, she began to whimper and writhe. He tore his mouth from hers and stared down at the tears her body wept, glistening and damp against his hand and her flesh. He groaned. His finger sank deeper, clear to his palm.

"Gabriel!" His name was a shivering cry. In it be heard all that he sought --all he had waited for. He levered himself up over her, scarcely able to breathe.

Her eyes were glazed, her expression dazed. The hardness of his belly pressed hers. With his knees he nudged her thighs apart. The sleek round crown of his shaft probed damp, dark curls, forcing her open, wider still. She clutched at him, certain she would be torn asunder by his straining entry.

He felt the bite of her nails in his back. "Look at me, Cassie." His tone was ragged. That he could yet speak he deemed a miracle.

Helplessly she obeyed. There was no help for it. His shoulders gleamed like oiled walnut. She sensed the iron control he was exerting over himself; his features were taut with the strain of holding back.

He lowered his head so that their lips almost touched but not quite. "Do I hurt you?" His words were but a breath of air.

Her deep shuddering breath only made her aware of his massive rod buried deep inside her, swollen and thick. But there was no pain, she realized with blinding relief, there was only the mindless excitement of being filled as never before.

Her lips formed a tremulous smile. "I -- am fine," she said faintly. And then her smile faded. Their eyes clung as she guided his head down, so their mouths were clinging too.

Slowly he began to move. She nearly cried out when he withdrew almost completely. The muscles of his buttocks tightened, and again his swollen shaft pierced deep within her. Pleasure swirled all around her, dark and heady.

Her eyes half-closed. Her back arched. Her hips caught his rhythm. Lifting. Circling. Heat shot through her like molten fire. A low moan broke from her throat. It was a plea, a wanton cry for more. She wanted him deep, deeper than she ever thought possible.

At the sound, Gabriel raised himself above her, his eyes burning like embers, the muscles of his arm corded and bulging. Every nerve in his body was centered there, where her velvet sheath imprisoned him, hot and sleek and tight. His mouth took hers with frantic urgency.

"I don't want to hurt you," he groaned. "But ... God help me ... I cannot be slow and easy ... I want you too much. . ."

Something gave way inside her, a rush of emotion that melted her insides. "Oh, Gabriel," she cried. "I want you, too. I want you, too."

His control splintered. A powerful lunge took him deep, clear to her womb, clear to the center of her heart. Again and again he plunged, torrid and intense, driving and wild. Cassie wrapped her arms and legs around his limbs and clung, caught up in the same burning frenzy. Then suddenly the world exploded, white-hot and dazzling, spreading out from that secret place he possessed so fully. She did not recognize the keening cries of rapture that tore from her throat, but Gabriel did. Her spasms spurred his own release. He plunged as if he would rend her in two. His body stiffened and throbbed, flooding her with his spewing wet heat.

His head was buried in the hollow of her shoulder. Above her, she felt his body slowly relax. Her fingers curled into the dark hair that grew low on his nape, an unconscious caress. He did not leave her, as she thought he might -- as she feared he would. Instead he propped himself up his elbows and gently lingeringly -- kissed her, a caress so unbearably sweet it brought tears to her eyes.

No words came to mind, and none to her lips. It was then that she knew ... this was what she had longed for all her life. This breathless feeling of closeness, of belonging, so much a part of another...

In that moment, she could ask for no more.

Chapter 17.

Cassie awoke to blazing sunlight streaming brightly through the windows. For a moment she stared, puzzled at the stark masculine furnishings that surrounded her. Vivid remembrance scorched her mind as she recalled she was not in her own bed ... and why. But along with that came a warm fuzziness that sent her gaze peeping shyly to the other side of the bed. She frowned, admitting to a sliver of disappointment at finding herself alone.

Just then the connecting door opened a crack. Gloria peeped through. "Milady?"

Aware she was still naked, Cassie slid down beneath the covers. "Good morning, Gloria."

"Morning?" The little maid giggled. "It's nearly noon, mum."

"Noon?" Her state of undress was all that kept Cassie from leaping up. "My heavens, why didn't you wake me?"

Her round cheeks wreathed in a smile. "His lordship made it very clear I was to let you sleep as long as you wanted." Gloria couldn't have been more pleased at finding her mistress's bed empty this morning. She was ever so kind and tender-hearted, and the earl so darkly handsome, for all that he was so stern and sober, a bit like his father ... She sighed her approval. If anyone deserved happiness, it was those two. Oh, but she couldn't wait to tell Mrs. McGee!

Cassie blushed as her dressing gown was laid within reach. "Is my husband downstairs?"

"Yes, mum. He went out for a morning ride, but I believe he's returned."

Cassie hurried through her toilette, anxious to see him again. After the intimacies they had shared last night, it was her most fervent hope that Gabriel's icy remoteness was a thing of the past -- if the hours spent in his arms were any indication, surely it was so!

Her heart was pounding riotously as she descended the stairs. Though she told herself she had no reason to be, she was just a trifle nervous. Her slipper was on the last stair when a sudden wave of dizziness rolled over her. She paused, flattening her palm against the wall and inhaling deeply. This was not the first time she'd had such a spell of late. Mercifully, it passed as quickly as the others. But just as she would have moved forward again, she heard the spiral of angry voices just around the corner in the entrance hall.

Gabriel and his father.

She froze. Though she did not mean to eavesdrop, she could not help but overhear.

"I cannot," Gabriel was saying flatly. "I have an appointment in London this afternoon."

"But I've already made arrangements for you to meet with the vicar this afternoon to discuss our yearly donation to support the parish charities." Edmund was clearly vexed.

"I suggest you make it another day."

"I cannot. I told him you would be there!"

"Then handle it yourself!"

"Blast it, Gabriel, I would remind you such responsibility will someday be yours alone! Nor will I be on hand to step in for you when you decide such matters are inconvenient with your wishes. You will ultimately take my place as the duke of Farleigh. You cannot shirk your obligations then, and you cannot do so now. You have a duty to uphold!"

Cassie held her breath. There was every indication this had taken on the proportions of a major row.

"Father, I have made myself available to you these last weeks though you seldom had the courtesy to ask if I were. I admit no one was more surprised than I by your decision to involve me in estate affairs. Indeed, it occurs to me that perhaps you have been merely waiting for me to fail. So if this is your way of testing me, so be it. But I draw the line at having you make my plans for me. In future, consult me first."

Footsteps echoed. A door opened.

"Stuart would not have walked away as you do, Gabriel. Never would he have been so careless of his duty." Edmund's fury boiled over. "If one of my sons had to be taken from me, why couldn't it have been you? God, but I wish you had never been born!"

Cassie reeled as if she'd been struck. Oh, sweet Lord, surely her ears had played her false. Surely he had not said.. .

"Do you think I do not know that, Father?" In comparison to Edmund's rage, Gabriel's voice was whimsically soft. "I've always known you did not want me -- you never wanted me."

The door closed quietly. Cassie clamped a hand to her mouth, her eyes tortured. Her knees refused to hold her. She sank to the stairs, utterly sick inside.

She swept into the study scant seconds later, her posture regal, her demeanor one of sheer, calm conviction.

Edmund was seated behind a polished mahogany secretaire. He glanced up at her entrance. "If you don't mind," he said curtly, "I prefer to be alone right now."

"Oh, but I do mind." The wide double doors swung closed. Four steps placed her squarely before him.

The duke's eyes narrowed. "I would like those doors kept open, if you please."

Cassie gazed at him steadily. For the first time she did not feel as if she were beneath him. Lord or no, duke or no, he was as human as she ... and at this moment, he was beyond contempt.

"I suggest we keep them closed, Your Grace. Unless you do not care if the servants hear what I have to say -- and I do believe they've heard quite enough. I know I certainly have."

He jumped to his feet, as haughty as ever. "You go too far, Cassandra. I will not brook such impudence -"

"And you, sir, will not bully me. You will not browbeat me into silence. I will have my say and I will have it now." Her gaze was as icy as his.

"Were I you, I do not know how I could live with myself," she went on. "To wish your son dead ... to wish him never born ... Were I you, I would be on my knees asking God's forgiveness that I could be so cruel, so very heartless!"

Edmund went a trifle pale. There was no doubt the chit had heard the whole unfortunate exchange with Gabriel. Pride compelled him to defend himself.

"You do not know of what you speak, Cassandra -"

"Oh, I know far more than you think! Gabriel told me of his childhood. How you always placed Stuart before him, in al] things, how you favored Stuart."