This was b.l.o.o.d.y dangerous. There was no way around it, and she was asking him to risk his life for her. More than his life-she was asking him to risk his soul.

After what he had seen on the edge of death, he believed he'd be d.a.m.ned for all eternity if he ever spilled any man's blood again. There was no certainty that it would come to that-a bodyguard protected a life more than concerning himself with trying to slay enemies. But of course the risk was there. And to her awed amazement, it was a risk that Gabriel was willing to take for her.

Still holding her in his embrace, he looked down tenderly at her; she tilted her head back, meeting his gaze.

As they stared at each other, she was aware of the exact second that a smooth subtle shift between them changed their embrace from one of comfort to desire. Her heart raced; her fingers tightened on the back of his neck with a will of their own, pulling him down to her. Her longing for his kiss shone in her eyes. She did not even try to hide it. His gaze dropped to her lips, his eyes burning like blue flame. Then he closed them.

The temptation was too great.

He lowered his head and kissed her. A soft moan escaped her as his mouth brushed hers in a silken caress. She held perfectly still, adoring him while her senses clamored and her heart rejoiced. Maybe everything would turn out all right if she had Gabriel on her side.

He curled one knuckle tenderly against her cheek as he kissed her, and with that light touch, Sophia was on fire for him. Her body melting against him, she tightened her hold around his neck. His hands molded her waist, pressing her to him, but as she parted her lips a little to offer him her mouth, he brought their brief, relatively chaste kiss to a close.

"No," he breathed, panting slightly. "There can be no more of this between us."

He loosened his hold on her waist, but for her part, she refused to release him. The room was spinning.

"Why?"

"Oh, Sophia, do you really have to ask?" he murmured, sounding slightly short of breath from their contact. "If I had known the truth of who you were, I would never have touched you."

She leaned her forehead against his in unabated yearning. "But I wanted you to."

"Don't make me want what I can't have."

"I say you can."

"No, I can't." Gently, he pried her back from him and held her at arm's length.

Sophia gazed at him in dismay as he stared somberly into her eyes.

"It can't be like that between us anymore. As much as we both might want it. Keeping you safe needs to be my top priority now, and emotional entanglements in this line of work can get people killed."

"But you-"

"No, sweetheart. A clear head is essential." He swallowed hard. "We can only be friends."

"Friends?" she asked hoa.r.s.ely, trying not to let the full brunt of her disappointment show on her face.

Gabriel nodded in regret, dropping his gaze. "You're too high above me. You know it, and certainly I do."

Sophia pulled back and took a few steps away from him, absorbing his all-too-n.o.ble rejection.

It was not easy.

"The difference in our rank didn't stop you when you thought I was the lower born one, your maid," she pointed out, perhaps churlishly, her back to him.

"It was a mistake. We both got carried away." Behind her, he fell silent. "Why did you do it?" he asked quietly after a moment. "Why did you offer yourself to me? Don't tell me you do those sorts of things with lots of men?"

She whirled around. "Of course not!"

He held up his hands. "I'm just asking. I know what goes on in these decadent palaces."

She folded her arms across her chest. "So, you still think I'm a harlot, then?"

"Sophia-"

"I'm a virgin, Gabriel." She stared at him meaningfully, until he looked away with a flicker of pained l.u.s.t on his face.

She lifted her eyebrows matter-of-factly. "If you had met Leon, you would know how difficult it would have been for me ever to set foot off the straight and narrow at any time, I can a.s.sure you."

"So, what was I, then? An experiment in freedom?"

"Maybe, just a bit." She walked back to him slowly, her arms still folded across her chest. "Maybe I could also claim I was afraid of the a.s.sa.s.sins chasing me, and did not think it fair that I should die a virgin. Not that you were very compliant on that point."

"I should be sainted," he muttered under his breath, leaning his hips back against the arm of the hefty leather couch behind him. He sat there in a casual pose.

She stopped before him and gazed into his eyes. "But, truthfully, Major, those things were just a part of it. I just felt...drawn to you." She reached out and smoothed the lapel of his uniform coat. "I still do."

"You are making this impossible."

"Kiss me properly, Gabriel. Please. I need to taste you again-"

"This can't happen," he said tautly, grasping her wrist where her hand still rested on his chest, and stopping her caresses.

She lowered her gaze.

"Sophia, I'm an all-or-nothing kind of man. What you're offering is only part of what I would've wanted with you."

Cruel. She flinched and let out a small sound of frustration, wounded to think he'd chosen to refuse her and deny what they felt for each other based on something she could not control. Her rank, her birthright. It wasn't fair.

"Isn't part better than nothing?" she whispered.

He quivered at her insistence. "G.o.d, you are hard to say no to."

Her heart slammed behind her ribs when she saw the hunger in his eyes.

His grip on her wrist loosened and began inching down her arm, as though, any second, he would pull her to him once again. "It's only going to hurt worse if we indulge in this, you know."

"I don't care." As she wetted her lips in antic.i.p.ation of his kiss, he closed his eyes, struggling for control.

"I went looking for you, you know. My Gypsy girl. I wanted you back. Back in my arms. Back in my bed."

"Oh, Gabriel."

He dragged his eyes open again. They were deep blue, hazy with desire. His hold on her arm tightened. She leaned toward him, intent on showing him just how much she had missed him, when suddenly, a rap on the door startled them apart. Sophia jumped back. Gabriel shot up, standing at attention.

"Come!" she called out, her heart pounding, her cheeks aflame.

A footman opened the door, and Gabriel's urbane kinsman, Lord Griffith, came striding into the Map Room. "Ah! There you both are. Sorry, I was detained. Your Highness. Major." The high-ranking diplomat gave Sophia an impeccable bow and then smiled suavely at his brother-in-law.

Gabriel's posture was stiff as he carefully avoided any telltale glance in Sophia's direction. "Her Highness has been filling me in on the situation with Kavros and our government's plans."

"Good. Anything I can answer for you?"

Gabriel cleared his throat. "We hadn't got round to much discussion on who might be behind the plot against her."

"Yes, that is the great question," the marquess said grimly.

"Not to me," Sophia muttered as she took a seat on the chair nearby.

Gabriel eyed her askance, then looked at his kinsman again. "From what Her Highness has told me about the way her country changed hands during the war, it sounds like several different parties might stand to gain from it. Whom do you suspect? This Ali Pasha fellow, or someone else? The Austrians? The Czar? Or perhaps the French?"

Lord Griffith shook his head. "None of the above. All of them are our allies now. Even France appears innocent in all of this. They're still trying to recover from Napoleon."

Gabriel braced his hands on his waist. "But Russia's always keen to gain a southern shipping port."

"Czar Alexander is a friend to England. And as for the Austrians, well, during the war, the Habsburgs tried to get away with staking an ancient claim on Kavros by way of their old Venetian holdings. But in peacetime, it's hard to fathom they would take the chance. To attempt such a thing would be seen as a slap in the face to England. Everyone's so d.a.m.ned tired of war, to be honest with you. Coffers are low, the armies are spent. Half the regiments have been disbanded across Europe and the soldiers sent home to their families. To risk another start at all that..." He shook his head wearily.

Gabriel frowned. "Just to be clear, there's no remote chance that this was a mere criminal act? For the sake of argument, some country roads are known for being plagued by gangs of highwaymen-"

"No." Lord Griffith was shaking his head.

Sophia stood up again. "I'll tell you who I think it was, Major. Your dear kinsman doesn't want to listen to me, but as I mentioned earlier, I would bet my bonnet it was Ali Pasha."

"And who is he, exactly?"

"Your Highness," Lord Griffith said with a long-suffering sigh.

The marquess smiled patiently at Gabriel, as though begging his pardon for her silly female notions. Sophia went and picked up the wooden pointer again.

"Ali Pasha-they call him the Terrible Turk. The Albanian tyrant rules all this territory from his capital at Janina." With an angry, sweeping motion, she indicated the Balkan Peninsula right across from the Kavros island chain, the westernmost reach of the Ottoman Empire on the Mediterranean's northern sh.o.r.e.

Gabriel c.o.c.ked a brow at her. "Why do you suspect him?"

"Ali Pasha has long been the scourge of the Greek peoples. What few parts of Greece remained free from Ottoman rule, Ali Pasha has done his best to capture them and take them for his own. Every time he presses out his boundaries again, he chases the Greek n.o.bles like my Leon out of their homes. He takes the land their families have held since Homer's day and gives it to his captains.

Many of the Greek n.o.bles have fled into the mountains, where they are forced to live as brigands, raiding the Muslim troops, and fighting as best they can for their freedom. When Ali Pasha captures any of them, he orders horrible public executions to make examples of them. The man is a monster."

"Now, now, Your Highness. We have been over this a hundred times before," Lord Griffith interjected in a smooth tone tinged with worldly male condescension. He glanced at Gabriel. "While Her Highness's theory is certainly plausible, England has just established a new treaty with Ali Pasha. The naval base at Kavros has brought us into close proximity with the unpleasant fellow. To avoid trouble, both parties have agreed to a pact of mutual nonaggression."

"You're thinking like an Englishman again, my dear marquess," Sophia informed him, growing impatient. "Ali Pasha laughs at promises he makes to infidels. He is playing games with you! He would say anything to further his own interests. Let his past deeds speak for him, not his lies. Ali Pasha has been gobbling up more territory ever since he first came to power decades ago. Why should any of us be naive enough to hope he'd be content to stop now, just because he's reached the water's edge?"

"Your Highness, however brutal this petty chieftain might be, he's not fool enough to challenge the might of the British Navy. I agree with you-Ali Pasha is a violent cretin. But he still has to answer to his overlord, Sultan Mahmud. Trust me, the Ottoman sultans never hesitate to remove from power any of their local rulers who refuse to comply with the Empire's policies."

"What if she's right?" Gabriel asked him.

"What are we to do?" Lord Griffith countered. "Even if Ali Pasha does by some remote chance have designs on Kavros, Sultan Mahmud is responsible for reining him in. We cannot interfere."

Sophia let out a strangled sound of fury. "Lord Griffith and his fellows are just afraid of stepping on the Sultan's toes!"

Gabriel nodded. "With good reason. The Ottoman Empire does not take kindly to insult," he remarked. He folded his arms across his chest and stroked his jaw in thought. "If we had proof of Ali Pasha's interference, it would be one thing, but if we were to go making unfounded accusations about one of the Sultan's most powerful va.s.sals, then the Muslim powers all the way from Egypt could cause innumerable headaches for our overland trade route with India."

She threw up her hands. "Why must it always come down to filthy lucre?"

"I a.s.sure you, Your Highness, it isn't a matter of greed, but of England's security," the diplomat countered. "The flow of goods and gold from our trade with India is essential in keeping England strong against our much larger rivals on the Continent."

Frowning, Gabriel glanced from Sophia to Lord Griffith. "Surely something can be done?"

"I have summoned the Turkish amba.s.sador from London," his brother-in-law informed him. "As soon as he gets here, I intend to meet with him and make our concerns known." Lord Griffith glanced at Sophia again. "It must be handled delicately, but rest a.s.sured, I will relay to Your Highness whatever I'm able to learn. In the meantime, we can only crave your patience. We need more time to continue gathering intelligence. My colleagues in the diplomatic corps are using every channel at our disposal to find out who was behind the attack on your party. Until we have anything solid, it won't do to start jumping to hasty conclusions. In the meantime, we will do everything in our power to keep you safe."

"I take it that's where I come in," Gabriel said sardonically.

They both looked at him.

Sophia smiled in rich satisfaction. "The major has agreed to accept his new commission, my lord."

"Excellent! I will have the papers drawn up presently."

"Thank you." Gabriel nodded to his kinsman.

The marquess paused with an inquiring glance from one to the other. Discreet curiosity flicked across his patrician face. "So, it's true, then-you two were, er, previously acquainted?"

They exchanged a guarded glance, then both nodded cautiously.

"I see," he murmured with an intrigued look. "Someday you'll have to tell me all about it."

"Oh, probably not, old boy," Gabriel answered in a cheeky drawl.

Sophia let out a nervous laugh but quickly stifled it, pressing her fingers to her lips.

Lord Griffith lifted his eyebrows. "Ah."

Gabriel sent her a wry glance, his blue eyes dancing.

Sophia grinned and shook her head at him, but the matter was decided. The story of how they had met would remain their little secret.

At least they could have that.

CHAPTER.

NINE.