robe over his already aroused body. Then, ignoring the fact he was behaving more like a common thief than the Earl of Ashcombe, he snuffed out the candles and glided through the dark corridors to the blue chambers.
Silently he pressed open Talia’s door, a smile of anticipation curving his lips at the knowledge she hadn’t turned the lock.
Resignation or invitation?
There was only one way to discover.
Stepping over the threshold, Gabriel closed the door and leaned against the wooden panels, covertly turning the key. At the same moment his gaze skimmed over the pretty rosewood furnishings, his heart slamming against his ribs as a slender form slowly rose from the window seat across the room.
He should have been amused. Or perhaps horrified.
At some point in the evening she had removed the wedding dress and replaced it with a ghastly monstrosity that he assumed was a nightgown. Christ. For a gentleman accustomed to females who understood a man enjoyed being teased and tantalized in the boudoir, he had never seen anything that resembled the yards and yards of white linen that swathed Talia from her chin to her toes. It looked like a funeral shroud. And to make matters worse, there were bows and ruffles and what looked to be a hundred buttons that ran from top to bottom.
How the devil any woman could sleep in the ridiculous garment defied his imagination.
But far from repulsed by her appearance, Gabriel’s fingers twitched with the urge to slowly untangle her from the mounds of linen, slowly unveiling her voluptuous body.
What could be more enticing than unwrapping her as if she were a long-awaited gift?
He would lay her on the bed and explore every inch of her satin skin. First with his hands and then with his lips. And only when she was begging for release would he enter her and quench his aching need.
As if sensing his lecherous thoughts, Talia pressed a trembling hand to her throat. Her dark curls tumbled about her shoulders, and her emerald eyes were wide with shock.
Gabriel felt a momentary hesitation.
Hell, she looked so damned innocent.
“My lord,” she breathed.
Annoyed by the brief stab of conscience, Gabriel grimly reminded himself that this female had been willing to become a sacrificial virgin to the highest title. He had held up his side of the bargain, it was time that she do the same.
A sardonic smile curved his lips as he pushed from the door and glided forward.
“Ah, my obedient bride.”
Talia licked her lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Surely you cannot be surprised?” He circled around her stiff form, his hunter instinct fully aroused. “This is our wedding night.”
“Yes, but…” She trembled as his fingers brushed her cheek. “I did not expect you.”
“Obviously.” He stopped directly before her and lowered his hand to tug at the ribbon of her hideous robe.“Or did you choose this garment in the hopes it would send me fleeing in terror?”
“There is nothing wrong with my robe.” Her husky voice brushed over his skin like a caress. “It is perfectly respectable.”
Untangling the last of the ribbons, Gabriel turned his attention to the endless row of buttons.
“It at least answers one of my questions.”
The sound of her jagged breath was the only indication that she was aware he was disrobing her, and Gabriel couldn’t halt a renegade flare of admiration as she faced him with a fragile dignity. “What question?”
His heart missed a beat as his fingers brushed the soft mound of her breast.
“Whether or not you are a virgin,” he said, his voice oddly thick. “No female of experience would wear a garment that resembles a funeral shroud rather than a gown that enhances her natural…assets.”
Her eyes flashed. “If you have come here to insult me…”
“You know why I am here.”
Her brief display of temper faltered at his stark words. He felt her quiver beneath his hands, her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
“But you do not want
Silently he pressed open Talia’s door, a smile of anticipation curving his lips at the knowledge she hadn’t turned the lock.
Resignation or invitation?
There was only one way to discover.
Stepping over the threshold, Gabriel closed the door and leaned against the wooden panels, covertly turning the key. At the same moment his gaze skimmed over the pretty rosewood furnishings, his heart slamming against his ribs as a slender form slowly rose from the window seat across the room.
He should have been amused. Or perhaps horrified.
At some point in the evening she had removed the wedding dress and replaced it with a ghastly monstrosity that he assumed was a nightgown. Christ. For a gentleman accustomed to females who understood a man enjoyed being teased and tantalized in the boudoir, he had never seen anything that resembled the yards and yards of white linen that swathed Talia from her chin to her toes. It looked like a funeral shroud. And to make matters worse, there were bows and ruffles and what looked to be a hundred buttons that ran from top to bottom.
How the devil any woman could sleep in the ridiculous garment defied his imagination.
But far from repulsed by her appearance, Gabriel’s fingers twitched with the urge to slowly untangle her from the mounds of linen, slowly unveiling her voluptuous body.
What could be more enticing than unwrapping her as if she were a long-awaited gift?
He would lay her on the bed and explore every inch of her satin skin. First with his hands and then with his lips. And only when she was begging for release would he enter her and quench his aching need.
As if sensing his lecherous thoughts, Talia pressed a trembling hand to her throat. Her dark curls tumbled about her shoulders, and her emerald eyes were wide with shock.
Gabriel felt a momentary hesitation.
Hell, she looked so damned innocent.
“My lord,” she breathed.
Annoyed by the brief stab of conscience, Gabriel grimly reminded himself that this female had been willing to become a sacrificial virgin to the highest title. He had held up his side of the bargain, it was time that she do the same.
A sardonic smile curved his lips as he pushed from the door and glided forward.
“Ah, my obedient bride.”
Talia licked her lips. “What are you doing here?”
“Surely you cannot be surprised?” He circled around her stiff form, his hunter instinct fully aroused. “This is our wedding night.”
“Yes, but…” She trembled as his fingers brushed her cheek. “I did not expect you.”
“Obviously.” He stopped directly before her and lowered his hand to tug at the ribbon of her hideous robe.“Or did you choose this garment in the hopes it would send me fleeing in terror?”
“There is nothing wrong with my robe.” Her husky voice brushed over his skin like a caress. “It is perfectly respectable.”
Untangling the last of the ribbons, Gabriel turned his attention to the endless row of buttons.
“It at least answers one of my questions.”
The sound of her jagged breath was the only indication that she was aware he was disrobing her, and Gabriel couldn’t halt a renegade flare of admiration as she faced him with a fragile dignity. “What question?”
His heart missed a beat as his fingers brushed the soft mound of her breast.
“Whether or not you are a virgin,” he said, his voice oddly thick. “No female of experience would wear a garment that resembles a funeral shroud rather than a gown that enhances her natural…assets.”
Her eyes flashed. “If you have come here to insult me…”
“You know why I am here.”
Her brief display of temper faltered at his stark words. He felt her quiver beneath his hands, her pulse fluttering at the base of her throat.
“But you do not want
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