Page 68 of Things We Do for Love and Science
Delia sighed in the seat beside him. He glanced at her profile, light and luminous against the dark backdrop of the night. How had she experienced the evening? Guilt clawed at him for having dragged her again into the drama of the Renwood Hall renovations. He’d enjoyed being seen with her on his arm as his wife. Dr. Cordelia Wright, smart, level-headed scientist, passionate lover, and stunning woman.
But not his, she’d made it very clear. “Thank you, Delia.”
She turned to him and smiled. “No problem.”
Her voice and the warmth of her expression sent a jolt through him. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel.Careful. He would have to be careful.
A heaviness pressed against his chest when he halted in front of the gatehouse. She’d change into her clothes, give him back his mother’s ring, then she’d be gone. The evening was coming to an end, and the spell was broken.
Renoir gave a sleepy, half-hearted bark when they entered but, recognizing Delia, ambled over with wagging tail to be petted before settling once more on his bed by the fireplace. She glided into the living room, and Gabriel was about to retreat to the kitchen when he remembered the stubborn first inch of metal zip. She would need his help to get out of the dress. He entered the room a few paces behind her, and she wordlessly presented him with the jammed zip.
In the cool, still air, he caught a trace of her scent, and his world tilted on its axis. He gripped the tab of the zip, tugged, and the silk parted. The widening triangle of exposed skin transfixed him, as soft to the touch as it was smooth to look at.
Her shoulders lifted and dropped rapidly as her breath quickened, and a faint blush swept up her neck. He lost his concentration and pulled the zip lower than was necessary to unstick it, his self-restraint shattered by want.
“Yes,” she whispered on a breath when he looped his left arm around her and rested his hand on her stomach, unzipping her dress fully with his right.
Encouraged by her small moan, he slipped his hand between her and the silk, cupping her breast and lowering his head to kiss the curve of her neck. Silk fell in rich folds to the parquet floor, revealing her to him fully.
She turned and wrapped her arms around him, stopping his breath with a kiss. Desire ignited between them. Dazed and drunk on each other, they made their way to his bedroom.
This time there was no slow, deliberate joining; this was passionate, urgent lovemaking. He hadn’t been with her for four weeks, and he wanted to touch and consume every inch of her. She clung to him with such profound need, that once again, despite everything that had happened, they connected utterly. Exhausted, they fell asleep, his body curled around hers.
Chapter Twenty
Gabriel mapped theempty space beside him before the sheets had cooled from Delia’s absence. She was gone. Of course she was.
He dressed hurriedly and went out into the park, alone; unable to face the pity he imagined in Renoir’s eyes. Every heartbeat was agony, every thought of her a torment. He raced through the wood like a man pursued by demons.
Screaming his pain into the morning air, he howled at the trees and the meadow. When he reached the copse of silver birches, he broke down among their sleek white stems and wept.
Her first rejection should have been a warning. He’d seen then how quickly she shut herself off from him when fear overwhelmed her. And yet he’d gone back for more. The slightest hint of her wanting him had been enough. Like a fool, he’d dropped his armor and bared his heart again, believing he could make her feel secure enough to trust in their love. What had been only one more night for her, for him had been everything.
Straightening, he dusted himself off and returned to the Hall. A searing ache cleaved his chest, and his eyes burned from crying. From now on, he needed to keep himself busy to make it through each day. Time would heal him. He had to believe it.
The following weeks were spent in a haze of inner pain and outward activity. He moved through Renwood Hall like a ghost. There was much to do between dealing with his clients’ accounts and getting the Hall ready for rewiring.
