A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

"Oh." Alathea wriggled. "So it's just the two of us, then?"

"Mmm. We can divide the duties any way we like."

She drew in a breath. Held it. "I'd like to continue actively managing my own investments. As I did with my family's funds."

Gabriel shrugged. "I can't see why not."

"You can't?" She tried to look up at him but he held her fast. "I thought you'd disapprove?"

"Why? From all I saw, you're good at it. I'd disapprove if you weren't. But if we're going to be partners generally, there's no reason we can't be real partners in that sphere, too."

Alathea relaxed. After a moment, she murmured, "Who knows? We might even be friends."

Gabriel closed his arms about her. "Who knows? Even that." It was a peculiarly attractive thought. "I'd enjoy that, I think."

Another moment passed, then she murmured, "So would I."

Lips curving, Gabriel tightened one arm about her, splaying his other hand over the smooth curve of her belly. "Given our present circumstances, I suggest we concentrate on the most pertinent-the most immediate-aspect of our partnership."

She sucked in a breath as he slid his fingers further, twining through the springy curls to reach the softness they shielded. With one broad finger, he stroked. She shuddered.

"I really think you need to pay more attention to this." With a grin, he rolled and lifted to come over her. She reached for him and found him. It was his turn to groan.

"Convince me."

The words were a challenge-precisely the sort she knew his Cynster soul delighted in. He threw himself into meeting it, heart and soul.

When she was writhing beneath him, hot and ready and yearning, he filled her with one long thrust. Braced above her, he watched her face as, eyes closed, head thrown back, she arched and took him in. His flowers still glowed against the rich brown of her hair. He withdrew and thrust slowly again, just to watch her accept him, to see the flowers quiver, then he settled to a steady, easy rhythm, rocking her relentlessly, taking the longest route he knew to heaven.

She gasped, clung, but there was a subtle smile flirting about her lips. He bent his head and laved one furled nipple, then nipped it. "By the time Jeremy and Augusta have grown, I can guarantee that if you pay attention to this aspect of our partnership, you'll have a tribe of your own to watch over in their stead."

Her lids lifted fractionally; she seemed to be weighing his words. "A tribe?"

She sounded intrigued.

&nb

sp; "Our own tribe," he gasped as she tightened about him.

Alathea grinned. Reaching up, she curved her hand about his neck and lifted her lips to his. "Just as long as that's an iron-clad guarantee."

The laughter started in his chest, erupted in his throat, then spilled over to her. They shook and clung, giddy as children. Then abruptly the laughter was gone; something much stronger swirled wildly about them, through them, then closed upon them and lifted them from the world.

Finally they settled to sleep, the city silent about them, the future settled, their hearts at peace.

Alathea slid into Gabriel's waiting arms and felt them close about her. Whatever the future, they'd create it together, manage it together, live it together. That was so much more future than she'd ever thought she'd have.

She slid her arms about him, hugged him once, then relaxed, content in his embrace.

The next morning, Lucifer stood on the front steps of the Brook Street house and watched the departure of the lady who, somewhat to her surprise, had spent the night warming his bed. And him. Raising a hand in salute as her carriage rumbled off, he turned inside, letting his victorious smile show. She'd proved a challenge but he'd persevered and, as usual, triumphed.

Success had proved very sweet.

Replaying honeyed memories, he headed for the dining room. Breakfast was just what he needed.

Courtesy of Chance, the door was ajar. Lucifer pushed it wide; it swung open noiselessly.

On a scene guaranteed to freeze the blood in his veins.