Page 7 of My Darling Rogue
The fear rippling through Celia blotted out Gabriel’s words. She heard him as if from a distance. As though she stood at the end of a long tunnel while he occupied the other end.
Oh, God.Did something just brush against her foot?
It happened again. Something warm. Something furry. Somethingsmall.
Her mouth opened with a demand for release from the coffin-like space, but all that escaped her lips was a pitiful whisper. She blindly lashed out, a fist connecting against the wall with a dull thump.
Somehow, she managed a reedy gasp.
“Please.”
CHAPTER5
Gabriel shoved the panel open just in time, catching Celia as she slumped forward. Her eyes were wide, her face ghostly white, and where he gripped her forearms, her skin was cool and clammy.
“What the hell,” he muttered as she filled his arms. “You’re shivering, Lady Celia.”
Celia clung to him, snuggling closer than was proper.
Damnation, there wasn’t a single thing proper about any of this.
Walking her toward the divan, Gabriel refilled the crystal tumbler with a healthy dose of brandy, then sank onto the cushioned seat beside her.
“Here. Drink this,” he urged, placing the glass against her pale lips.
Celia’s huge brown eyes fixated on Gabriel’s face as she automatically sipped the liquor. A tiny grimace crossed her features but her hand clutched the tumbler, her fingers closing over his until they both gripped the glass.
Gabriel’s jaw tightened as she drank.
The brandy would help Celia regain her composure and, hopefully, quell the tiny quivers in the tips of her fingers as they pressed against his own.
Gabriel knew he shouldn’t, but it was impossible not to stare. His gaze raked her form, clad so sumptuously in all that billowy, yellow muslin. A pang of desire stabbed his insides.
He ruthlessly shoved it away. And pulled the glass away from her mouth.
Lady Celia Buchanan is not meant for the likes of you.
Her shivering was slowly subsiding, her skin tone returning to its usual creamy shade. Licking her lips, she moved her hands in a slight motion that let Gabriel know she wanted more brandy.
“One more sip,” he murmured as she closed her eyes and drank again from the glass. “It won’t do to have you intoxicated as well as compromised.”
Celia’s eyes flew open at that, the chocolaty brown depths darkening with his statement.
“I’ve had brandy before, Mister Rose.” She did not turn her gaze away as he considered her.
“Of that, I have no doubt, Lady Celia. But best not to complicate matters further, don’t you agree?” Gabriel set the glass down.
“Yes.” She sighed, her brow creasing with a tiny frown.
Silence fell between them once more, with Celia seemingly uncaring they sat indecently close on the cranberry-hued settee.
“Thank you for rescuing me.” Her voice was tiny, but just a shade resentful.
“You are welcome.” Gabriel used the same gentle tone used when digging out information from people reluctant to give up any secrets. “May I ask what frightened you before? When you were inside the passage?”
Celia’s eyes cast downward, the thick eyelashes casting shadows on her skin. “It is silly, of course.”
“I will not laugh.”
