Finding Gabriel (40 page)

“There,” Ariah said with a dazzling, ever-growing smile. “My Gabriel,” she breathed, the words heavy with emotion.

He hiked up her gown and ran his fingertip over her glossy core. Moaning his name, she arched into his touch on a bated breath. He slipped a finger inside her tight walls and massaged her swollen mound with circular motions.

No longer a slave to that devastating night, Ariah responded with wild abandon and hunger. She tore away his coat and ripped at the shirt’s golden clasps. Peeling away the garments, an appreciative moan swelled her throat as her gaze tracked across his nude torso. She tossed the coat and shirt on the floor – and tentatively skirted her fingertips over the scar that branded his right arm. Gabriel claimed her mouth in a soul-searing kiss and pushed her into the mattress. He chanted her name with the power of a prayer, breathing each sound into her tingling body.

Not daring to break their kiss, she reached forward and fumbled with his trousers and undergarments, tearing them from his legs. The desperate movements reminded Gabriel of their lovemaking by the Seine six years before. The urge to claim her, to join their bodies in the most primitive of ways, nearly stole his breath. He climbed over her undulating body and slid into her welcoming heat. She cried out in pleasure, knotted both arms around his neck, and pulled him closer. Sweat rolled down his sides. Her nails dug into his skin, forcing him deeper still.

Thrusting soundly and without restraint, he nipped her earlobe and whispered against the tender cartilage: “We are each other’s destiny.”

•

Ariah stirred awake hours later. The satin sheets were knotted around her limbs – a testament to hers and Gabriel’s intense lovemaking. Smiling to herself, she unwound the wild tangle of hair from under her back and flipped toward Gabriel’s side of the bed. The large chamber was dark and eerily still, save for the flickering hearth on the opposite side of the room. Wavering shadows ran up and down the walls, manifesting in an array of shapes. Beside the hearth, the balcony doors were cracked open and the curtains drawn aside. The sumptuous material was tied to either side of the archway, resembling a pair of colossal satin wings. Hanging on the balcony, the wind chime and Doctor Mongeau's ornament wavered as they were cradled by a gentle breeze. Together, they tinkled in merry oblivion, filling Ariah's spirit with tender memories. Then a blast of wind seeped into the chamber and sent chills racing down her spine.

The curtains stirred, moving across the floorboards like living things. It was a rather balmy spring evening, and there was really no reason for a fire.
Why did Gabriel light the hearth?
She squinted against the darkness and attempted to decipher her surroundings. A stillness formed inside her heart as she caught sight of his silhouette. He was stationed beside the mantel, all darkness and torn emotion. Although she couldn’t see his features, she knew he was staring directly into the flames.

Ariah gathered the coverlet in her hands and tugged it off her body. She slipped out of bed, entirely in the nude, and joined her husband. He leaned into her arms, the tension easing from his muscles.

A comforting, peaceful silence filled the air. Only the crackling hearth disturbed the quiet. A gentle breeze stirred the lace curtains once more. The fire twitched, manipulated by the wind, and bright orange flames shot into the chimney.

“Almost twenty years have passed, yet I still remember that night in such clear detail.” Gabriel’s fingers latched onto the mantel in a lethal grip. Shaking his downcast head, he stared into the hearth and spoke to the wavering flames. “Lisette would have turned twenty-two this summer.” Ariah increased the pressure of her hold and laid her cheek against his nude back. Beads of sweat ran down his flesh and glimmered in the firelight. She unwound one of her arms from his torso and absently traced the liquid path.

“I believed it might fade away with time,” he resumed. “And in many ways it already has. But – ”

“Shh,
mon amour
.” Ariah pressed a kiss to the middle of his spine. She felt his back undulate beneath her lips. Then she stepped aside, pulled an oversized sofa chair from against the wall, and positioned it near to the hearth. She gently urged Gabriel to sit. He did as commanded, staring into her eyes with breathless wonder. He appeared spellbound, as if he were lost halfway between dreams and reality. She delicately caressed his cheeks, then moved behind his back.

Nimble fingertips whispered along the expanse of his shoulders – one and then the other. They kneaded the strain in his muscles, replacing discomfort with pleasure. Gabriel exhaled an ardent groan and relaxed beneath the hypnotic ministrations. Her hands joined together at the base of his neck, slipping down, down, down – passing over each side of his body and then back up again. She leaned forward, allowing erratic breaths to waft against his nape. Gabriel swallowed and inclined his head against the seat rest.

She positioned herself in front of him again. “Shh. Just relax, my Gabriel.” Ever so slightly, she bowed forward, brushed away fallen locks of hair, and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Her lips lingered against his brow as she cradled either side of his face. He stared up at her, mesmerized and unblinking, his lip curved into a lopsided grin. Then she repeated his words from eight years earlier: “Just lose yourself within my touch, my voice …”

Ariah shut his eyes with a sweep of her palm. Then she leaned forward and eased her body against the chair’s elegant upholstery. Her fingertips traced over his torso in soothing, calculated strokes. His heartbeat was fierce beneath her palms. She massaged the planes of his chest and both shoulders – pacifying the unseen ache.

He arched his back and exhaled a husky groan. Ariah ran her fingertips down the length of his spine in slow, comforting strokes. She felt his body convulse beneath her touch, felt as his muscles quivered with each breath.

“We can never fully escape from the memories,” she whispered, speaking from a place deep inside her heart. “Nor can we ignore them. They are an integral part of us, an internal mirror to the people we have become.” She pressed a kiss to the center of his back. The salty flavor of sweat oozed between her lips and seared her heart – branding her forever.

“What happens now?” Emotion constricted his voice. Ariah moved before him and mutely lowered onto her knees. She took both of his hands in her own, crouched before the blazing hearth, and gazed deep into his eyes – connecting with his very soul.

“Us. Today, tomorrow, and always.”

They were each other’s destiny.

Rachel L. Demeter lives in the beautiful hills of Anaheim, California, with Teddy, her goofy lowland sheepdog, and her high school sweetheart of eleven years. She enjoys writing dark, poignant romances that challenge the reader’s emotions and explore the redeeming power of love.

Imagining dynamic worlds and characters has been Rachel’s passion for longer than she can remember. Before learning how to read or write, she would dictate stories while her mother recorded them for her. She holds a special affinity for the tortured hero and unconventional romances. Whether crafting the protagonist or antagonist, she ensures every character is given a soul.

Rachel endeavors to defy conventions by blending elements of romance, suspense, and horror. Some themes from which her stories never stray too far: forbidden romance, soulmates, and the power of love to redeem, mend all wounds, and triumph over darkness.

Her dream is to move readers and leave an emotional impact through her words.

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