She barely noted the sensation of the yacht’s swaying motion as they gathered speed and headed toward England. Indeed, she was impervious to everything beyond Gabriel’s pale face and the shadows beneath his eyes.
“You are saying that Harry is gone?”
“Yes.”
She hesitated. His expression was neutral, clearly struggling against his instinctive resistance to share his thoughts and feelings with another. He had been trained to appear invulnerable, no matter how he might long to lean on another.
Then, gathering her courage, she moved to lay a comforting hand upon his arm.
Whether Gabriel knew it or not, he needed her. Especially now.
“Do you believe he intends to return to Calais?” she asked.
He shook his head. “He could not possibly be that much a fool. Jacques would have him shot on sight.”
She had to agree with his reasoning. Jacques had not been pleased to discover his English lackey had betrayed him.
“Then where would he go?”
“I cannot say.”
“Do you intend to send someone in search of him?”
There was a long silence as he brooded on the question, an unmistakable concern darkening his eyes before he heaved a deep sigh.
“Maybe after we have returned to England. Then again, it is perhaps best he disappears for the time being.”
He shook his head, as if attempting to rid himself of the dark thoughts that were plaguing him. Then, allowing his hooded gaze to run the length of her slender body, the tension visibly eased from his expression, and a slow, wicked smile curved his lips.
A primal heat filled the air between them, prickling over her skin and causing her to take an unconscious step backward.
“Yes, it might be for the best,” she managed to rasp.
His smile widened as he prowled forward, his hands smoothing over her shoulders and down her arms.
“For now I have more important matters to occupy my mind,” he said, his voice dark.
Her heart thundered and her breath locked in her throat. Lord, would she ever become accustomed to the thrilling excitement of this man’s touch?
“What matters?” she weakly attempted to tease.
He slowly lifted her hand to his lips. Feeling oddly bemused, Talia watched as he nibbled along the length of her thumb.
“I believe that I warned you of my intentions once we were aboard the yacht.”
She gave a strangled sound as her entire body shuddered in anticipation.
“Surely you must be tired?”
“Exhausted, but that does not diminish my desire for you,” he assured her in low tones. “But first…”
Without warning he bent to scoop her off her feet, cradling her against his chest as he moved to push open the door that led to his adjoining cabin.
She had a brief impression of glossy wooden paneling and sleek furniture that was cleverly tucked into shallow nooks, but it was the small copper bathtub that was set in the middle of the floor that captured her attention.
“Gabriel, what are you about?” she demanded as he set her to her feet and dropped his arms.
“As much as I might want to tumble you on the nearest bed, I believe you will prefer my embrace after I have bathed,” he said with wry amusement, the wicked smile still curving his lips. “Or better yet, once you have bathed me.”