Her Every Pleasure (35 page)

As they lay panting afterward, temporarily spent, they laughed to find that he had moved the bed several feet across the floor with his exertions. Sophia could barely move, enervated by pure pleasure.

Fortunately, having ordered a feast from the kitchens, their late supper arrived and now, donning the robes the hotelier had given them, they ate to keep up their strength in between bouts of making love.

They had already opened a bottle of the famed Armagnac brandy for an aperitif to sip during their bath, but when the waiter arrived, wheeling in his little cart, Sophia poured the superb Bergerac wine that had been left to breathe in anticipation of their meal. Gabriel accepted the hotel’s bill of fare, tipped the waiter, and then locked their chamber door, turning to her with a devilish smile. “
Now
we’ll eat.”

Sophia oohed and ahhed over the hors d’oeuvre, a pâté de foie gras on fresh white toast. The foie gras made both of them moan, it was so rich and buttery-smooth, delicately flavored with the local black truffles. The entrée was a warming rabbit stew with wild mushrooms, green beans, carrots, and pearl onions from the nearby market.

The sweet course brought a cinnamon apple and walnut tart with a touch of honey, the flaky crust crumbling and light. They opened a bottle of Monbazillac for the dessert wine and brought it with them back to bed. Gabriel opted for the brandy to accompany the final course, a few bites of smoked brie on a slice of the heavenly bread, along with a clutch of green grapes.

Sophia eyed
him
hungrily, not quite sated yet. If the last time had been his turn to do whatever he liked to her, this time, she seized the initiative and used him as she pleased. She pushed him down onto the mattress and straddled him, holding him down—not that he fought her.

He stared at her in lust; the feeling was mutual. She caressed him possessively, relishing the feel of so much muscle and brawn and pure male power between her legs, under her control. She kissed him in flagrant seduction, letting her breasts caress his chest, teasing him with her body until he was breathless, his blue eyes begging for her. She gripped his mighty erection, all virginal shyness left behind, and angled it into her waiting passage. Her most delicate flesh was admittedly tender from all of his rough exercise, but she didn’t care. She wanted him again.

Needed him.

He watched her in unadulterated hunger as she rode him, seated upright while he lay on his back against the mound of pillows. When she released his hands, he placed them on her hips. His flexing arms guided her movements, until once more they both were panting and straining in the throes of passion. She collapsed on him with a small, wild scream of release. He cupped her head to muffle her cries in the pillow as ecstasy blazed through her. Before her climax had ceased, his arrived; she watched his face and held his gaze as he came to her.

By the candlelight, the flicker of sweet anguish in the depths of his eyes unlocked her heart completely. She kissed him, touching his face with trembling hands, telling him over and over that she loved him as he surrendered.

Later that night, however, she wasn’t sure why—she cried. The tears came unbidden in the middle of the night when she could not sleep. Thoughts of Alexa and Demetrius, and the terror of those two days were still with her, as were all her fears about her royal destiny ahead…and a foreboding awareness that the danger was not over yet.

Gabriel heard her sniffles and awoke; he gathered her to him and held her as she wept. He tucked the sheets more snugly around her and dried her eyes with a dinner napkin for a handkerchief. She put her arms around him and shed her tears against his chest. His steady presence helped to calm her, though he barely said a word. He understood better than anyone the strain she had been under.

Eventually, her tears subsided, but still he held her. Around two in the morning, he kissed her forehead tenderly and whispered, “Go to sleep.”

At last, she did.

By the next morning, she felt better. They dressed in their smart new French fashions and hired a post chaise with a driver and postillion so they could ride together in the carriage for the remainder of their journey to the Mediterranean coast.

Traveling under the pretense of being newlyweds, they set out early and admired the picturesque French countryside as it went on about its day. They spotted a little boy driving a flock of big gray geese that waddled across the lazy meandering road ahead. Some nuns were readying their convent garden for the winter. Now and then the road humped up gently over an ancient Roman bridge across a stream; the occasional flatboat passed at a leisurely pace, taking its goods to Bordeaux or some other port town.

It was easy to while away the hours in this rural idyll, but her insatiable lover had his own ideas about how to pass the time. Gabriel drew her onto his lap with a wicked half smile that she was coming to know all too well.

There was a particular manly dimple that appeared in his left cheek when he was feeling roguish and about to misbehave.

“Oh, darling, we really shouldn’t,” she protested unconvincingly as he caressed her with obvious intent.

Blast, but she could not resist the man.

“Give me one good reason why,” he whispered as he nibbled her shoulder and discreetly lifted her skirts. “I want you.”

She closed her eyes, melting against him. Facing forward while sitting on his lap, she laid her head back on his shoulder. He reached inconspicuously under the billowy mass of her gown and petticoat, and freed his rigid manhood from his trousers. No one was the wiser as Sophia draped her knees apart; beneath her skirts, cloaking their true activities, she soon could feel her bare backside against his now exposed loins. Her heart raced as he slid his throbbing hardness into her already wet passage.

He rocked her with slow, leisurely enjoyment as the carriage rolled along. His arms around her waist, his kisses at her neck, his member sheathed inside her, all filled her with the most exquisite sensations.

Unfortunately, neither of them realized they were coming up to another little country town right in the middle of market day. The weekly vendors thronged the main road through the town. There were no blinds on the carriage windows, though the glass panes were closed. Sophia panicked. People could see right into the windows! Her skirts concealed the fact that his hardness was thrust deep inside her, but—nevertheless!

“What should I do?” she whispered frantically.

“Just enjoy the ride,” he drawled in a breathless tone. “I know I will.”

“Gabriel Knight!”

“It’s France. Who’s going to care?”

“I am the Princess Royal of Kavros—”

“No, you’re my pretty plaything at the moment.”

She groaned, loving the sound of that.

“God, don’t stop.”

“Oh—there’s a priest! I hope he doesn’t see us.”

“Just act natural.”

“This is indecent.”

“Relax,” he whispered, laughing, but he would not let her up off his lap. He held her impaled upon his shaft.

Her pulse galloped while the carriage wound slowly through the town. The vendors came up to the window as they rolled by, trying to sell them their goods.

“N-no, thank you. Merci, non!” Sophia declined with an air of desperation. Her cheeks were bright red, filled with a hectic blush.

“You’re doing great,” he taunted.

“I’m going to strangle you for this.”

“That could be fun. There, darling. Buy some nice French bread from this chap. I’ll bet you like the shape.”

“You’re a demon,” she answered under her breath as the fellow from the baker’s shop pressed in to sell them a long, hard baguette. When Sophia handed over a few sous with trembling hands, the baker’s man frowned.

“Is your lady ill, monsieur?”

She could not speak, he was so deep.

“Fever,” Gabriel forced out.

“Eh, there is a physician in the town.”

“Non, non,” he said, “I will tend her myself.”

Sophia bit back a moan.

“Ahh,” the man said with a sudden, hearty laugh and a knowing wink as understanding dawned. “Excusezmoi, monsieur. Merci beaucoup. So sorry to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” he muttered. “Oh, God, drive on!” he yelled at the coachman, sounding rather out of breath.

“Let them pass! Let the lovers pass!” the baker’s man announced, waving them through the crowd with a grin from ear to ear.

Cheeky French humor. Laughter abounded as the people cheered and got out of the way.

As soon as they had cleared the town, Sophia held onto the leather hand-loop above the carriage window, supporting herself as Gabriel finished the deed.

“Oh, God—are you trying to get me pregnant?” she asked, out of breath and resting against him after their enthusiasm.

“That would be nice.”

“Mmm, it would.” She turned and pressed her lips to his in dreamy rapture.

Ending the kiss, he gazed tenderly into her eyes, and in that moment, Sophia felt as if her life was now complete.

When they reached the Mediterranean, neither of them was very happy to see it.

Their mood changed from romantic euphoria to one of more somber intimacy as they each contemplated what still lay ahead. They walked the beach at sunset, hand in hand, and barely spoke. Beside them rolled the jade expanse, its crop of lazy sailboats bobbing gently on the waves.

Gabriel was trying to figure out how to broach the subject of the threat from the Order of the Scorpion when Sophia turned to him abruptly, her cheeks pink with the breeze.

“I want to thank you for saving my life,” she said earnestly.

He kissed her hand and smiled. “Thank you for loving me,” he answered.

She gazed wistfully at him and brushed her blowing hair out of her face. “It’s easy.”

“You make me so happy,” he whispered, assisting. He tucked the curl behind her ear for her.

At once, it blew free again. That mane of hers had a mind of its own, like the rest of the strong-willed lady, he thought in amusement.

“Gabriel?” She clasped his hand in hers and moved closer. “There’s something that I need to ask you.”

“Such serious eyes,” he murmured, furrowing his brow with a tender look as he studied her. “What is it, love?”

She stared back at him, her velvety brown eyes huge and earnest. “Do you plan to marry me?”

He blinked. “Of course! What do you take me for, darling? None of this would have been happening if that were not my intention.”

I’m just not sure if Fate is going to cooperate.

Before he could qualify his statement, relief burst across her face. Blushing, she laughed at herself almost nervously. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I doubted you, it’s just that you never mentioned it—oh, Gabriel, let’s go and do it right now!”

“Now?”

“That way no one can stop us! Oh, I so want to be your wife. What have you done to me?” she asked as she clung to him in doting affection. “I used to be too terrified even to think of sharing my position with a man before you. But I trust you so much. I know you would never betray me. I want to rule equally with you by my side, equal in every way.”

He gazed at her for a long moment. “Are you sure that’s how you see me? As your equal?”

“Yes, of course!”

“What about divine right and all that?”

“Oh, that’s nonsense! Our quality is proved by what we do. And you have done marvelous things,” she said with a sigh.

“What about Kavros?”

“My people will only benefit from the two of us being together. With your strengths and my strengths combined, think of it! We will make the country whole again in no time.”

Moved by her faith in him, he captured her chin on his fingertips and tilted her head back to press a soft kiss to her lips. She smiled as his kiss ended and he slowly straightened up again.

“So, what do you think?” she murmured. She squeezed his hands with an eager little laugh. “Shall we go get married? There must be twenty churches in this town. Where are we, anyway?”

“Perpignan. Sophia,” he said in a cautious tone, “I think we’d better wait a bit.”

“But why?”

“Darling, with all that is at stake, we both must think practically. The Foreign Office as well as the local powers on Kavros could challenge the marriage if it’s not done out in the open, in front of everyone. You know I am yours. Don’t scowl, it happened to Prinny. Remember?”

She lowered her head.

“The world found out that he had married his Catholic mistress when he was only, what, twenty-one? It was a great scandal and in the end, they forced him to put her away—and he’s a man. With you as the royal personage, being a woman, I cannot even think what they would do if they didn’t like our match. They’d say I had swindled you for wealth and power—and even worse, you’d be deemed an easy virtue! Your loss of credibility and authority, in turn, means that Kavros would suffer.”

She turned away.

“You could lose the throne if we are too hasty, and I won’t let that happen to you. Your people need you, and I think you need them.”

She sent him a soulful glance over her shoulder.

He moved closer. “I adore you for wanting me so much, but you already have me. And protecting you also means forcing you to think things through,” he added in a soft tone, brushing her hair behind her shoulder with an intimate touch.

“Well, when you put it like that…I suppose I can be patient,” she conceded with a glum look.

“Good. Because—” Gabriel hesitated, then braced himself and took a deep breath. “There is another aspect to all this that I haven’t yet told you about.”

He briefly related the information that he had shaken out of the Turkish ambassador after she went missing. He told her what they knew about the Order of the Scorpion and how he had purposely ordered her Greek bodyguards to leave the one wounded Janissary alive so that they could track him to the villains’ headquarters.

“I gave that mission to Timo. He took Niko with him and they’re to report back to me as soon as they are able. When we find these devils,” he said in a hard tone, “we are going after them.”

“I see.” She absorbed this in silence. “You plan to be a part of the attack?”