The Princess in His Bed (32 page)

In a world where she had little control over her destiny, she could at the very least control how things impacted her.

No one at court could hurt her—because she simply didn’t care. And there had been many who had tried to hurt her in the eyes of the King.

She, unlike her half sisters, didn’t vie for her father’s attention. She didn’t waste a moment’s thought about whom the King would select as her husband.

He wouldn’t matter to her either.

Only Daniel and her two closest friends mattered, and even they were kept at an arm’s length.

“You know, at first I was quite agitated over your plan,” Bernadette said. “But now, I must say, I do believe you are going to succeed.” She smiled.

Gabrielle maintained hers, hoping it looked genuine. “Thank you, Bernadette.”

“And you didn’t encounter any real problems?” Caroline asked.

How she wished Caroline would leave the matter alone. The questions about last night added to her fatigue. “I’ve already mentioned, Caroline, that I encountered a small problem. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Yes, but you won’t say how small or what the problem was,” Caroline pressed.

“It was small. Nothing for you to worry about. Now then, let’s return to our reading, shall we?” As she opened the volume to where she’d left off, hoping to lose herself in its prose, she stared blankly at the page, her anxieties about the Basset game on Saturday welling up inside her again.

She simply had to attend. There was no choice in the matter.

An argument drifted up the hallway and into the study, snatching Gabrielle from her thoughts. Glancing up from her book, she noted the dismayed expressions on her companions’ faces as the voice of the majordomo eclipsed another male voice. Gabrielle rose and dropped her book on her chair, intent on investigating the disturbance, when the meddling man from last night strode bold as could be into the room.

Her stomach dropped.

She couldn’t believe he was here. She couldn’t believe how good he looked. She didn’t think it was possible, but he looked even better than he did last eve. In the bright light of her uncle’s study, with its many wall sconces and candelabras aglow, his striking male features were illuminated. And devastating.

His magnificent height, his broad shoulders, his . . . Oh God . . . gray eyes, no, they were more than gray. They were a stunning light silver that set her insides aquiver.

He stopped dead in his tracks the moment he made eye contact with her.

“Monsieur!” The majordomo came running into the room. “My orders are that no guests are permitted—”

Gabrielle cleared her throat, uncertain she could speak without her voice quavering while the darkly handsome stranger moved his gaze over her, his tactile perusal irking her as much as it was inflaming her. And that irked her further still.

“It’s all right, Aubert,” she said to the servant. With a nod, the majordomo bowed and left the study.

He found you!
She cursed her luck. The entire ride home, she’d checked repeatedly to see if they were being followed.

There had been no sign of him.

He was far cleverer than she’d given him credit for. Damn him and his physical allure.

“You look better in this attire than the one you had on last night,” he said with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Caroline and Bernadette moved close to her.

Placing a hand on her arm, Caroline asked sotto voce, “Is this the ‘small problem’ you mentioned earlier?”

“Good Lord, there’s nothing small about the man,” Bernadette whispered, eyeing him.

Gabrielle took a deep breath and let it out slowly, striving for a level of composure she didn’t feel inside. “Enough. Not another word from either of you.” Her voice was soft but firm. She didn’t want them giving this man any information about her or them. “Ladies, please excuse us. I have a word or two to say to our
visitor
,” she remarked louder, holding his gaze firmly.

“Alone? In private?” Caroline asked, her unease tingeing her tone.

“Yes. Please leave now.” Out of the corner of her eye, Gabrielle saw her two friends exchange concerned looks, but without further ado, they dropped their gazes as they passed the man standing in the room, and exited the study, closing the door quietly behind them.

“How did you find me?” She didn’t waste a moment’s time getting to the point.

He cocked his head, a lock of dark hair falling across his brow, looking ever so appealing. “I followed you.”

“Why? What on earth are you doing here?”

“I’ve come for a visit.”

Her brows shot up. “
A visit?
Are you entirely well in the mind? What about our encounter would have made you think I would want a visit from you?”

The smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth looked more like a smirk. He approached, stopping before her. Towering over her. Yet she refused to step back, or do anything to indicate in any way she was unsettled by him.

“You asked what I was doing here and I responded. You never asked if I thought you’d like a visit from me.”

Her ire mounted by the moment—thanks to his unmitigated gall, the smug look in those light-colored eyes.

And his wonderful scent.

Though she couldn’t quite describe it, it was tantalizing in the extreme. She actually had the urge to lean in and inhale deeply.

“The point to you being here is?” she pressed. Dear God, how she wanted him to leave. She didn’t know what to make of his unprecedented effect on her. Or how to control it.

He was making her feel dread, and heaven help her . . . desire.

She wasn’t at all like some of her half sisters. She wasn’t the type of woman who became giddy over a handsome face.

“I want to know why you were there last night,” he said.

She simply glared back at him.

He lifted a brow. “Not going to answer?”

“No. What I do and why I do it is none of your concern.”

“Fine. Then I shall tell you what I know.” He folded his hands behind his back and slowly strolled around her. “I know who owns this town house, the Marquis de Gaillard. I know he’s got quite a reputation when it comes to keeping mistresses. He maintains a number of them at any given time. His favorite is with him at his château as we speak.” He stopped behind her. His body was so close to hers. A luscious heat emanated from him and inspired a quickening in her belly. He leaned in, his mouth all but touching her ear. “This very town house is one he offered to a former mistress, one whom he’s since tired of,” he said softly, his warm breath caressing her skin, sending tiny tingles down her spine. “You have a wealthy benefactor. You don’t need the coin. Why don’t you tell me why you were there last night—dressed as a man?”

Gabrielle didn’t respond. She was working too hard at keeping her breathing even. The information about her philandering uncle wasn’t new. Her reactions to this man were. Her nipples were hard. Her senses were awakened and highly attuned to him. Reacting to any and every small thing he did.

“What is your name?” This time his lips brushed her ear. She jumped and spun around. His slight touch sent a bolt of startling sensations right down to her feminine core.

“You need to leave.
Now
,” she ordered.

“You need to answer my questions.”

“I owe you no explanations or answers,” she tried saying with finality, but wasn’t sure she’d succeeded; the light throbbing between her legs was a horrible distraction.

Her treacherous body was behaving in the unruliest way.

“Are you going to be there on Saturday?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“That’s the wrong answer. Stay home.”

“No.” She uttered the word firmly. Could he tell the frenzy he’d incited inside her?

“I could tell the Duc about you, you know. That you are a woman.”

The last thing she needed was to pique anyone else’s interest, but she didn’t cave in to threats. Others had tried to coerce her at court.

With no success.

Gabrielle collected herself and schooled her features. Affecting her usual blasé tone, she said, “Do you think he’d care? I don’t. I got the distinct impression his only concern was recouping his losses and perhaps winning some coin from me.”

She’d done it. She’d successfully countered his threat and taken the life out of it. It was visible on his face.

He sighed and rested his hands on his hips. “Look, believe it or not, I am trying to help you.”

That inspired a laugh. “Help me? I won a considerable sum last night, while you lost half your winnings. What help do I need from
you
?” She didn’t wait for him to respond. “You and I both know why you’re here. Clearly you’ve nothing better to do with your time than to poke your nose where it doesn’t belong. And when you learned who owned this home, you of course thought, ‘poor lonely mistress, so neglected by her lover.’ Naturally she would eagerly allow you a tumble. Isn’t that so?”

She was livid—with herself for reacting so strongly to someone who was of no importance to her. And for not putting on a convincing enough performance last night. Though she didn’t think she’d failed miserably at behaving like a male, having this man see through her disguise clearly suggested otherwise.

The only thing that gave her any pleasure was that he was so far off course with his belief that she was the Marquis de Gaillard’s mistress.

He stepped close to her. She jumped back, something she hadn’t meant to do, a knee-jerk reaction on her part that made her want to kick herself. It showed weakness.

He advanced another step. She couldn’t back away this time, even if she wanted to. She’d backed up against the tall marble table in the room.

He slipped his fingers under her chin. “Do I want to fuck you? Yes. I won’t deny that. What man wouldn’t want you?” He leaned in, his solid body pressing against hers. She leaned back away from the lure of his mouth and gripped the edge of the table. “Can you feel how hard you make me? What you do to me?”

Her heart pounded. How could anyone possibly miss
that
? The stiff bulge inside his breeches pressed against her belly and made her sex throb harder.

“I see what I do to you, too, beautiful Snow Princess.”

At the word “princess,” she flinched.

He didn’t seem to notice and continued. “So very alluring, yet with a cold and haughty veneer. I see through that icy exterior of yours,” he said. “I see the way your body reacts to me. You know as well as I do any carnal encounter between us would be heated, intense, and delicious.”

Other men had made comments about her physical appeal. She’d always dismissed them as empty compliments, as the flattery was only offered in front of the King. She should have done the same with what he was saying, but instead, the look in his eyes, the low timbre of his voice, and his hot hard body pressed against hers made it impossible.

And thrilling.

She swallowed twice before she could say, “Please . . . st-step back.”

To her surprise, he complied. She suddenly found him a good two feet from her, his hands back on his hips.

For a man who was as sexually aggressive as he was, she hadn’t expected immediate compliance. Though she didn’t think he’d force himself on her, she thought she’d have to insist.

He was forever doing the unexpected.

To her chagrin, without the heat and press of his body against hers, she actually felt
bereft
.

“I believe some introductions are in order here,” he said. “My name is Mathias de Tesson, Marquis de Montfort. And you are?”

Well, at least he hadn’t been able to learn her name. But then again, who would, or could tell him? No one knew she was here, except her uncle, and he was presently a distance away. She was careful not to venture out into the city where she might be recognized, unless in disguise. And then there were the servants. Her uncle paid them well. They knew to hold their tongues or lose their employment.

Gabrielle decided to change tactics. Holding her silence was only fueling his curiosity about her. She’d toss him a bone.

“Well?”
he prompted.

“Silvie,” slipped past her lips. It was the first name that entered her mind and the very last one she should have offered
him
. She mentally chastised herself for choosing
that
name. Of her many given names, that was the one her mother, Daniel, and at times even Bernadette and Caroline called her. Only those closest to her used it.

But never in the presence of the King. His Majesty didn’t care for it.

“Silvie?” He said her name with a weighty skepticism, as though he didn’t believe her. “Silvie what?”

Fool, now that you’ve offered the name, you can’t exactly change it, can you?
“Just Silvie.”

“All right, just Silvie, what were you doing at the gaming den, dressed as a man?”

“I was doing what everyone else was doing at the gaming den. Playing Basset. I like the thrill of the game. It’s exciting. And I dressed the way I dressed because I didn’t want anyone to recognize me,
obviously
.” She sharpened her tone, hoping he’d tire of her coarseness and leave her be.

“I don’t believe you, Silvie. There is much more to all this than you are saying.” He stepped close and gently cupped her cheek. “There is more to you than you allow others to see. Behind the tall thick wall where you conceal yourself is the real woman. One I’d very much like to know.”

No one had ever dared touched her like this. Or spoken to her the way he did. Worse, she liked the way he was touching her. Too much.

“Heed my warning, beautiful Silvie. Don’t go to the Duc’s gaming den on Saturday. For if you do, there will be consequences you don’t wish to face.”

He stepped back, kissed her hand, bade her a good night, and walked out of the room, leaving her body heated, trembling from the inside out, and her mind spinning from his ominous parting words.