Page 80 of Tempting Fate
As her clenching spasms began to abate, he quickened his strokes, the hand in her hair curling into a fist as he pulled out of her body and thrust between her thighs lubricated by the slick jets of his release.
He barely took the time to regain any breath before he left for the basin and returned with a damp cloth.
It was this thoughtfulness that made her care for him so. How strange, for a man so adverse to being vulnerable, who hid himself from everyone, to walk naked in her room with the prowling confidence of a rutting stag.
She liked it.
“There’s something I want to tell you,” he said once she’d been administered to.
“What’s that?” Sitting up, she nuzzled into his neck.
“Your sister is the worst.”
She giggled at his mock-aggrieved expression, playfully pushing him out of her bed with a shove of her foot.
“Better you go and dress in your own chamber, before Mrs. Pickering finds you in here and forces you to make an honest woman of me.”
She’d said it in jest, but their gazes crashed together for an uneasy moment. Her words landing on the floor in a heap of disorganized chaos between them.
They’d never spoken of the future.
Swallowing, Felicity was the first to give into her cowardice. “I-I’ll see you at breakfast.”
“Of course.”
They didn’t look at each other as he gathered his clothing and left.
Felicity was hoping the awkwardness between them would dispel by breakfast, but it hung above them like a sword through the meal. And then in the carriage after, when they went to the offices of George C. White, Esquire, to question her father’s solicitor.
Finding the offices suspiciously vacant, they followed a strange and complicated trail through the city, finally determining that Mr. White had left the country for an indeterminate amount of time.
It was well into the afternoon by then, and they all decided to return to Cresthaven for luncheon to plot their next move.
“Actually,” Mercy said as the carriage pulled into the courtyard. “I have a friend through the Eddard Sharpe Society of Homicidal Mystery Analysis who might know how to find this Marco Villanueve. He’s always talking about his contacts in the smuggling world.” She reached out and squeezed Felicity’s knee through her voluminous sage skirts. “What say Rafe and I go pay him a visit while you rest, dear. You look absolutely knackered.”
“A lovely idea,” Felicity agreed, offering her sister a wan and grateful smile.
“Yes,” Raphael agreed, his dark eyebrow lifted at his sullen brother. “That would give you time to talk about whatever is going on between the two of you, I think. I’ve been wanting to squirm out of my skin all afternoon.”
Mercy stepped on his toe and he merely grinned. “Ever the subtle rogue, my husband,” she muttered, though her eyes were fond as she gazed over at him.
Emitting a sigh from deep in his chest, Gabriel heaved out of the carriage and held his hand out for Felicity.
A hand that had pleasured her out of her mind just this morning.
Taking it, she stepped down and led the way into the house as the driver turned the carriage in the tight courtyard and clopped back into the mild London afternoon.
“Will you come with me to the parlor?” she asked.
He nodded, his stony expression never changing.
Are you having regrets?She wanted to ask him.Are you feeling guilty because you are still going to leave?
What would it take for him to stay?
Because if there was a price, she’d be willing to pay it.
Even if it meant losing everything to gain his heart.
