name would have been destroyed.”
“Yet it was a risk she was willing to take,” Samantha pointed out.
“In truth, I think we both enjoyed the thrill of the game. We would come face to face at some ball or soiree, murmur a few polite words, then pretend indifference. No one knew that I was aching to drag her away to the nearest moonlit garden or deserted alcove and kiss her insensible.”
The husky note in his voice sent a dark shiver dancing over Samantha’s flesh. Although she tried to fight the temptation, she saw Gabriel running a hand through his golden hair as he paced some shadowy alcove. Saw the anticipation that brightened his eyes as he scented the rich gardenia of his lady’s perfume. She felt the strength in his arms as he reached out to draw her through the curtain. Heard him groaning deep in his throat as their lips and bodies brushed, consumed with the irresistible hunger of the forbidden.
“One would have thought I’d grow bored with such an innocent dalliance. But her letters enchanted me.” He shook his head, looking genuinely bemused. “I had never dreamed a woman’s mind could be so layered or so fascinating. My mother and sisters were rarely engaged by anything more stimulating than the latest snippet of gossip from Almack’s or the most recent fashion plates smuggled from Paris.”
Samantha bit back a smile. “It must have been quite a shock for you to learn that a woman could possess a mind as keen and discerning as your own.”
“Indeed it was,” he confessed, his silky tone informing her that he wasn’t completely oblivious to her sarcasm. “After several months of this delicious torture, I wrote and tried to persuade her to elope to Gretna Green with me. She refused, but she wasn’t so cruel as to leave me completely without hope. She vowed that if I could prove I had some interest in this world that extended beyond my next winning hand of faro at Brook’s, some passion that didn’t involve horses, hounds, or pretty young opera dancers, she would consent to become my bride, even if that meant defying her father’s wishes.”
“How very magnanimous,” Samantha murmured.
Gabriel frowned. “She still didn’t entirely trust my affections. No matter how passionately I pledged my love, there was a part of her only too willing to believe I was still an irresponsible rake-hell who had inherited everything of import— my title, my wealth, my social standing.” He arched a self-mocking eyebrow, stretching his scar taut. “Even my good looks.”
Samantha’s stomach was starting to churn. “So you set out to prove her wrong.”
He nodded. “I joined the Royal Navy.”
“Why the Navy? Your father could have purchased you a prestigious commission in the Army.”
“And what would that have proved? That she was right about me? That I was incapable of achieving anything on my own merit, my own skills? If that were my intent, I could have joined the militia and simply played the part of hero. There’s nothing like starched broadcloth and a bit of shiny braid on a man’s shoulders to turn a lady’s head.”
Samantha saw him striding into some crowded ballroom, his cocked hat tucked beneath his arm, his tawny hair gleaming beneath the glow of the chandeliers. His dashing figure would have set all of the unmarried ladies to blushing and simpering behind their fans.
“But you knew your lady’s head would not be so easily turned,” she ventured.
“Nor her heart so easily won. So I signed on under Nelson’s command, confident that when I returned from sea, she would be ready to become my wife. Knowing that we were to be parted for several months, I sent her one last letter, entreating her to wait for me. Promising her that I was determined to become the man—and the hero—that she deserved.” He attempted a crooked smile. “So ends Act One. There’s really no point in continuing, is there? You already know the ending.”
“Did you ever see her
“Yet it was a risk she was willing to take,” Samantha pointed out.
“In truth, I think we both enjoyed the thrill of the game. We would come face to face at some ball or soiree, murmur a few polite words, then pretend indifference. No one knew that I was aching to drag her away to the nearest moonlit garden or deserted alcove and kiss her insensible.”
The husky note in his voice sent a dark shiver dancing over Samantha’s flesh. Although she tried to fight the temptation, she saw Gabriel running a hand through his golden hair as he paced some shadowy alcove. Saw the anticipation that brightened his eyes as he scented the rich gardenia of his lady’s perfume. She felt the strength in his arms as he reached out to draw her through the curtain. Heard him groaning deep in his throat as their lips and bodies brushed, consumed with the irresistible hunger of the forbidden.
“One would have thought I’d grow bored with such an innocent dalliance. But her letters enchanted me.” He shook his head, looking genuinely bemused. “I had never dreamed a woman’s mind could be so layered or so fascinating. My mother and sisters were rarely engaged by anything more stimulating than the latest snippet of gossip from Almack’s or the most recent fashion plates smuggled from Paris.”
Samantha bit back a smile. “It must have been quite a shock for you to learn that a woman could possess a mind as keen and discerning as your own.”
“Indeed it was,” he confessed, his silky tone informing her that he wasn’t completely oblivious to her sarcasm. “After several months of this delicious torture, I wrote and tried to persuade her to elope to Gretna Green with me. She refused, but she wasn’t so cruel as to leave me completely without hope. She vowed that if I could prove I had some interest in this world that extended beyond my next winning hand of faro at Brook’s, some passion that didn’t involve horses, hounds, or pretty young opera dancers, she would consent to become my bride, even if that meant defying her father’s wishes.”
“How very magnanimous,” Samantha murmured.
Gabriel frowned. “She still didn’t entirely trust my affections. No matter how passionately I pledged my love, there was a part of her only too willing to believe I was still an irresponsible rake-hell who had inherited everything of import— my title, my wealth, my social standing.” He arched a self-mocking eyebrow, stretching his scar taut. “Even my good looks.”
Samantha’s stomach was starting to churn. “So you set out to prove her wrong.”
He nodded. “I joined the Royal Navy.”
“Why the Navy? Your father could have purchased you a prestigious commission in the Army.”
“And what would that have proved? That she was right about me? That I was incapable of achieving anything on my own merit, my own skills? If that were my intent, I could have joined the militia and simply played the part of hero. There’s nothing like starched broadcloth and a bit of shiny braid on a man’s shoulders to turn a lady’s head.”
Samantha saw him striding into some crowded ballroom, his cocked hat tucked beneath his arm, his tawny hair gleaming beneath the glow of the chandeliers. His dashing figure would have set all of the unmarried ladies to blushing and simpering behind their fans.
“But you knew your lady’s head would not be so easily turned,” she ventured.
“Nor her heart so easily won. So I signed on under Nelson’s command, confident that when I returned from sea, she would be ready to become my wife. Knowing that we were to be parted for several months, I sent her one last letter, entreating her to wait for me. Promising her that I was determined to become the man—and the hero—that she deserved.” He attempted a crooked smile. “So ends Act One. There’s really no point in continuing, is there? You already know the ending.”
“Did you ever see her
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