Bride for a Night

“This way.”

With a familiarity that made Gabriel wonder how much time Armand spent with the local whores, the boy led him along the stone wall that surrounded the property, pausing at a narrow wooden door.

Waiting for Gabriel’s nod, Armand pushed open the door and led him into a private garden with a perfect view of the courtyard.

“Will this do?” he asked.

“It will do very well.” Gabriel pulled out a fistful of coins and pressed them into the boy’s hand. “It is late, return to your home, Armand.”

“Merci, monsieur,” Armand breathed, his expression stunned at the small fortune. “Merci.”

“Straight home,” he commanded, shaking his head as the boy offered a cheeky grin and dashed through the door.

Accepting that there was nothing he could do

for Armand, he turned to study his brother through the trellis.

He had managed to track down Harry, but now what? No matter what his fury, he was not stupid enough to create a scene when there were a few thousand French soldiers camped just outside the walls of the city.

Then again, he had no desire to stand in a damp garden for the entire night, waiting for his brother to grow weary of his entertainments and return to his lodgings.

Brooding on a possible means to lure his brother from the newly introduced La Roulette, Gabriel was slow to react when a slender form appeared from the stone steps behind him.

“Ah, bonjour,” a husky female voice murmured.

Gabriel reached beneath his jacket for his loaded pistol, and smoothly turned to confront the vixen behind him. Her curls were the color of summer wheat tumbling over her shoulders left bare by a sheer robe. Her features were delicately drawn and her hazel eyes charming, if one ignored the calculating manner they slid over the strange man standing in her garden. With one glance Gabriel was confident that she knew the precise worth of his wine jacket and ivory waistcoat that had been perfectly sculpted to his body and the small fortune needed to purchase the ruby sparkling in the folds of his cravat.

“You are in need of companionship?” A smile curved her lips as she ran a finger along her plunging neckline, drawing attention to the tempting curve of her breasts. “I am Monique.”

“Non,” he impatiently declined, only to realize the lovely female was precisely the bait he needed to attract his prey. “Wait, Monique.”

Turning back, the woman approached him with a smile of pure invitation.

“You have changed your mind?” she purred, her hands skimming over his jacket. “You will not regret your purchase.”

He lightly grasped her wrists, preventing her skillful touch from heading ever lower.

“I have a small task I wish you to perform.”

Her chuckle was perfectly pitched to stir a man’s deepest fantasies.

Or at least most men, he ruefully corrected.

He had already discovered that his interest in women, no matter how lovely or talented they might be, had been restricted to dark-haired gypsies with emerald eyes.

“I shall be pleased to perform any tasks you desire.”

“That will not be necessary,” he said, firmly putting her at a distance.

Her smile never faltered as her hands shifted to the velvet ribbon that held her nearly transparent gown together.

“You prefer that I…”

“No,” he hastily reached to grasp her hand before she was standing stark naked.

She frowned. “Then what do you desire?”

With a tug on her hand, he positioned her near the trellis, pointing his finger at his brother.