But Peter looked as he always did. The perfect modest gentleman. He was tall but not too tall; thin, nice looking in a patrician way. His face was pale, a little too long. His nose and chin were too sharp to be called handsome. He was plain, but not ugly. Only his clothes and the ostentatious jewelry he wore spoke to his wealth, and the power it implied. Why she thought about what it would be like to live the rest of her life with him, or a man like him, she didn’t know. But the thought was so overwhelming, so distasteful, she feared she might scream or cry — or perhaps both.
Peter looked startled, as though Ana had said something. But she was sure she hadn’t. Oh God, had she said what she was thinking out loud? Once again, she was reminded of her aunt’s remonstrations, that proper young ladies do not show their true feelings. Pressing her lips together, she vowed that she would shutter her emotions, make her face and voice a blank canvas. That lasted all of thirty seconds until he spoke in that unctuous patronizing way of his that grated on her, made her want to misbehave like the spoiled child he seemed to think she was.
“My, Ana, you look as though you don’t appreciate the fact that I sought you out, brought you champagne. Were you hiding, like a child? Hoping that someone would follow you out here? Or did you just want attention?”
Ana reared up, preparing to smack the smugness off his face, when a quiet voice spoke from the shadows.
“She is waiting for me.”
Ana gasped, staring at the dark corner. A match flared, lighting his sun-bronzed skin, his chiseled jaw, and those gleaming emerald eyes. He squinted as he cupped the match and lit the cigarette, sucking in a deep drag. He shook the match extinguishing the light and blew a cloud of smoke up in the air as he advanced on her.
He didn’t take his eyes off her as he walked toward her. She grabbed tiny sips of air and leaned back against the railing, clutching it, willing herself not to faint. He huffed out a puff of air and a soft smile tugged at this lips. Ana had the distinct feeling that if she died at this moment there would be no need to visit heaven because she had already seen an angel.
Peter’s condescending voice broke the spell.
“You can’t be serious, McKenna. Surely you do not believe that Ana would permit herself to be alone, out here in the dark with the likes of you?”
Gabe grinned, remembering Clem’s similar assertion. Turning to the man who was holding two glasses of champagne that looked as though they’d lost their sparkle, Gabe was amused. Taking a long drag off his cigarette, he blew the smoke in Peter’s face. Hampered by the useless glasses he held, Peter could only jump back coughing as the smoke filled the space between them.
When the smoke cleared and Peter’s trembling fury was apparent, Gabe stepped up next to Ana and gripped her elbow as he had in the ballroom. Without taking his gaze off Peter, he asked in a laconic tone, “Why don’t you ask her, Peter. Ask her who she was waiting for.”
Peter’s pale face flushed an angry dark red. He glared at Ana. She stared back at him her anger at both men flooding her. Gabe’s firm grip gave her courage. She would deal with Gabe, but first she had to get rid of Peter.
Her voice was surprisingly strong, given the turmoil roiling her gut.
“Go Peter, please go.” At his shocked expression, she added, “Yes, I was waiting for him.”
Peter’s expression changed. It went from fury to a cold, calculating anger that frightened her. She shivered and moved closer to Gabe.
Peter held her gaze… then smashed the worthless glasses against the stone floor, shattering them in hundreds of pieces. When he spoke his voice was different, no longer the pompous fop. Rather, it was hard, icy.
“You’ll be sorry for this, Ana. For the rest of your life.” Including Gabe in his threat, he added, “You both will be.”
He turned and strode to the door. As Peter opened the door to leave, Gabe’s quiet voice stopped him. “If you ever threaten her again, Harcourt, or come within five feet of her or this ranch, I will kill you.”
Peter shook. The tremors shaking his body were visible across the dark expanse. Even from the distance, Ana could see that it was fury, however, not fear that drove him. Relief flooded her when he strode through the doorway, slamming the door behind him.
Chapter 22
Ana collapsed against Gabe, shrouding herself in his strength, his warmth. For a long moment she gave in to her need to hold him, be held by him. His voice crooning in her ear comforted her, eased the tremors that were shaking her. Little by little she regained her composure. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to forget the fury raging in Peter’s eyes and remember her own.
She twisted free and stepped back angling away from the railing to give herself space, to prevent Gabe from trapping her. Glaring up at him, she asked, “Why are you here?”
A smile quirked his lips. “That’s becoming a little repetitive, Ana. I thought we resolved that issue, the last time we were out on this balcony.”
Ana shuddered at the memory.
She tossed her head and lifted her chin. “No, Gabe, we did not. If anything, the question is more pertinent that it was before.”
When he just smiled and reached up and chucked her under her chin, she jerked away.
“Are you sure you have enough time for this, Gabe? I don’t want to take you away from Sarah Hamilton. Although from the look of your partners, they will keep the twins occupied until you return to finish the job. Or are you here to fulfill some pre-established quota for the night among the three of you? “
Even before the words spewed out of her mouth she knew she sounded petty, childish, like she was jealous. Her face burned and she forced herself to squeeze back the angry tears that threatened to betray her.
Gabe reached over and stroked her cheek. “Ah, Princess, you need to go back to where we left off? Angry, hurt?”
She stammered, “I… I… wasn’t hurt. I wasn’t! But, yes, I was angry and I still am.” Attempting to salvage her pride, furious that she had betrayed her jealousy, letting him know how much he had hurt her, she pushed him farther away and moved toward the door.
His voice stopped her.
“Ana, please come here.”
She hesitated, then squared her shoulders, grasping for resolve.
“Ana, here, baby, right here.”
She turned to face him trying to resist his magnetic pull. He reached out and gently pulled her toward him. When she was next to him, he tossed his cigarette to the ground.
His voice was soft, husky. “You asked why I am here. I will tell you. I’ve waited as long as I can, Ana.” He reached out and ran his finger around her lips. At her start, he rubbed against the moist surface of her inner lips, then pinched the corner of her mouth. When she gasped, her eyes widening, he grinned and said. “Yeah, Princess, I’m done waiting for this, for you. To do this to you”.
“What… what are you going to do?” Her voice was shaky, he saw the fear and the anticipation in her eyes. He breathed in her fragrance. It flooded him, charging every nerve ending in his body with an overwhelming desire. His only concern was that he would take her, plunge into her before he kissed her. And he knew he might die if he didn’t kiss her soon.
“First, I’m going to kiss you.”
She pulled back and shook her head. “I don’t want you… I… I don’t know how, Gabe.”
She felt her face heat. She jerked away, horrified that she had blurted out the embarrassing truth. Oh God, she was such an idiot. A vision of Sarah Hamilton leaning against him, lifting her face up to his, shook her and she stumbled back.
Gabe’s grip hardened. “Stop, Ana. Stop doing that, thinking about anything but this.”
He ran his finger over her mouth again, but this time he immediately probed inside. He folded her bottom lip between his finger and his thumb and stroked the tender moist flesh. She was shocked at the sensations that swamped her core at this simple act. She thought she might collapse when he held his finger against her lips and said in a husky rumble. “Suck on it, Ana. Suck on my finger. Take it deep in your mouth and taste my skin.”
When she tasted the salt of his skin, the rich earthiness of his cigarette, the sulfuric tang of his match, she looked at him and whimpered. His lips were so close, so full and inviting. The need to taste him, touch him everywhere, overcame her. She couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her lips.
His smile was soft but his voice was rough, urgent. “Oh yeah, Princess, me too. I want to kiss you, Ana.”
He ran his moist finger, the one she’d sucked on, around her lips. He bent down and touched her lips gently with his. Ana didn’t know what to expect. She’d never been kissed. A kiss on her cheek from her father, a bear hug from Kai. But this? This huge man with the powerful muscles was touching his lips to hers lightly, tenderly? He nipped at them, catching tiny slivers of her lips between his teeth as though he wanted to sample them centimeter by centimeter. Then he slid the tip of his tongue inside her mouth the way he had done with his finger. But this was more erotic, more compelling. He twisted his tongue around her lower lip and sucked on it.
A massive shiver zinged through her. The smoky taste of his cigarette, the tang of bourbon mingled with his scent. She smelled the whisper of sandalwood, a fresh piney odor, and that musky male smell that made her want more, so much more,
He reached under her hair. His big hand clasped the nape of her neck and pulled her up closer to him, holding her in place. Just where he wanted her, where she wanted to be. His tongue was a sensual weapon. He licked her teeth then pried them open. His tongue tangled with hers driving deeper and deeper. A soft male growl vibrated between their lips and Ana felt something inside of her give way. A dam broke. Sensation after sensation swamped her. She wanted to kiss him, probe him the way he was doing to her. She dug her fingers in the curls at his neck and pulled him to her, deeper, harder.
She was shocked when she realized that the whispery moans, the frantic gasps mimicking his were coming from her.
“Jesus, Ana,” he groaned and bent her back over his arm. Her head fell back opening her throat to his lips. He dragged his rough tongue over the tender skin pausing to lick the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat and the sensitive skin that surrounded it. Her groin clenched and she thought she might faint if she couldn’t catch a deeper breath. And then his wicked mouth was nipping at the lush mounds of her breasts. They swelled at his touch. He bit the tender skin and sucked on it. Every touch, every suck, every bite smashed through one barrier after another. She didn’t recognize the sounds coming from her, the pleas, the sobs. When his expert fingers slipped inside the silky fabric of her gown and sought the throbbing nub of her nipple, she cried out. But he was merciless. First his fingers twisted, tugged one sensitive nub then the other. When she couldn’t bear another sensation, he licked her nipple then sucked on it, hard. She didn’t recognize the wail that broke from her throat. It was needy, sensual, a cry as old as the Earth.
His hands were insistent; his powerful body relentless. He pressed her up against the railing, forcing her legs apart with his strong thighs. The rough weave of his trousers scraped against the bare flesh above her stockings. Wool rubbing against silk created a friction that only intensified the sensations. His voice was low, guttural, commanding. He drove his bulging erection up against the damp silk protecting her tender folds. “Open to me, Ana. I need you. God, baby. I need you now.”
Wave after wave of sensation pulled her higher and higher, the current dragging her to a place she’d never been. Just when she thought she would drown with need, Gabe pulled back at the intrusive sound of a voice. He still held Ana — but more like a shield than a driving force. He slowly stood wrapping her protectively in the shelter of his strong arms.
Through the roar of sensation coursing through her ears, Ana heard Kai’s embarrassed voice trail off. “Uh, Gabe… Ana… I… you….”
Gabe’s voice was low, ironic, thick with frustration. He murmured, “I want you to know Kai, I have killed men with my bare hands for less.”
Gunnar broke in, his voice devoid of its usual overlay of humor. “I’m sorry, man. Don’t blame the kid. You gotta come now. It’s Chao. He’s been hurt. Bad.”
Chapter 23
Ana’s face was frozen with fear, but to her credit her voice was calm, comforting, belying the terror that Gabe saw in her eyes. Chao’s face was covered with bruises and cuts, the signs of a vicious beating. Both of his eyes were swollen shut and there was a thin purplish ring circling his neck indicating whoever had attacked him had used a garrote or rope — Gabe assumed to strangle him. His left arm was bandaged and splinted.
Madam Ling nodded when Gabe asked, “Broken?”
Her response was cryptic. “In three places.”
Even in his semi-conscious state, Chao’s soft moans testified to his driving pain. Madam Ling and three of her assistants were tending his wounds, applying salves and herbal poultices to the open cuts. When Gabe pulled back the sheet to see for himself the extent of his wounds, his breath caught at the sight of the massive bruises covering Chao’s chest and abdomen. Ana’s gasp confirmed that she understood the extent of his injuries.
Gabe probed the swollen places around his ribs and met Madam Ling’s gaze.
“We are waiting for the laudanum and opiates to take effect before we attempt to reset them.” She added, her voice tight with strain, “At least two, maybe three or four are cracked.”
For Ana and Kai’s sake, Gabe kept a tight rein on the fury coursing through him. Motioning to the horrified valet, Quitin, Chao’s long time manservant, Gabe caught his arm and pulled him away from the group.
“I need you to step up here, Quitin. Do you understand me?”
The diminutive man brushed the tears off his face and nodded, as Gabe continued. “Get a comfortable chair for Miss Ana and for Mr. Kai. I know they will insist on staying by him tonight. When she is ready, Miss Ana will need to change her clothes. Send her personal maid, here. Jing, correct? Have Jing bring Miss Ana a robe and change of clothes.”