Devil in Spring (The Ravenels, #3)

by Lisa Kleypas

“A wallflower,” he said softly, with a faint, reminiscent smile on his lips.

SOBBING

“You’re not my fiancé, either.” “Not yet.” “Not ever.” Gabriel wanted to pounce on her. He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

“Dangerous creatures, wallflowers. Approach them with the utmost caution. They sit quietly in corners, appearing abandoned and forlorn, when in truth they’re sirens who lure men to their downfall. You won’t even notice the moment she steals the heart right out of your body—and then it’s hers for good. A wallflower never gives your heart back.”

Impulsively Pandora stepped forward and dove her face against Devon’s chest and hugged him, undoubtedly surprising him as much as herself. She rarely sought out physical contact with anyone. “Thank you,” she said in a muffled voice. “It means a great deal that my feelings matter to you.” “Of course they do, sweetheart.” Devon gave her a comforting squeeze before drawing back to look down at her. “Do you know the motto on the Ravenel coat of arms?” “Loyalté nous lie.” “Do you know what it means?” “‘Never make us angry?’” Pandora guessed, and was rewarded by his deep laugh. “Actually, I do know,” she said. “It means ‘loyalty binds us.’” “That’s right,” Devon said. “Whatever happens, we Ravenels will remain loyal to each other. We’ll never sacrifice one for the sake of the rest.”

Forgetting her resolution to be dignified, Pandora stopped and whirled to face the provoking man. “No, you didn’t. I was compromised by a settee. You just happened to be there.”

Pandora was outraged. “That is the most pomposterous thing I’ve ever heard!” Before she had finished the sentence, however, she saw the dance of mischief in Lord St. Vincent’s eyes. He was teasing, she realized. Turning pink with confusion, she lowered her head. Within a few minutes of arriving at Heron’s Point, she had tumbled on the drive, lost her hat and her temper, and had used a made-up word. It was a good thing Lady Berwick wasn’t there, or she’d have had apoplexy. As they continued to walk, Lord St. Vincent fell into step beside Pandora while the duchess followed with the duke. “Pomposterous,” he murmured, a smile in his voice. “I like that one.”

He was charmed out of all reason as he watched her, this sandy, disheveled, storytelling mermaid, who seemed already to belong to him and yet wanted nothing to do with him. His heart worked in strange rhythms, as if it were struggling to adjust to a brand new metronome.

Good God, she really did walk in circles. A pang of tenderness centered in Gabriel’s chest like an ache. He wanted all her circles to lead back to him.

STAB MY HEART

Gabriel smiled. “Like silver wind chimes in a summer breeze.” “That’s not at all how it sounds,” Pandora scoffed. “But that’s how it makes me feel.” The intimate note in his voice seemed to vibrate along the network of fine, taut nerves strung all through her.

EYEYEYEYEY cannot with this man WHOSE SO IN LOVE W THIS GIRL WHO FEELS LIKE SHES UNLOVEABLE OMG

And finally Pandora understood where a little small talk about the weather might lead.

SOSBSBS BS

Are you afraid of the dark? The storm?” He kissed her damp forehead and pressed soothing murmurs into her hair. “Easy. Softly, now. You’re safe in my arms. Nothing’s going to harm you, my sweet girl.”

His lips went to her forehead again, and he kept them there for a long moment. “Put your arms around my neck,” he eventually said. After she obeyed, he lifted her easily, clasping her high against his chest.

The family parlor was lit only by a fire in the hearth. Gabriel went to a low, deeply upholstered empire sofa with a curved back and arms, and settled with her in his lap. Her pride objected feebly to the way he was holding her, as if she were a frightened child. But his hard chest was comforting, and his hands slowly chased the nervous tremors that ran through her limbs, and it was the nicest, warmest feeling she’d ever known. She needed this. Just for a few minutes.

“I don’t know.” Her smile curled against his skin. “It seems made for my—” She paused. “For kissing.” Closing his hand in her hair, he guided her to meet his gaze. “For your kisses,” he said gruffly, ceding ownership of the spot whether she wanted it or not.

“I won’t marry until women have the right to vote and make the laws fair. Which means never.” Pandora buried her face in the pillow. “Even the Queen opposes suffrage,” she added in a smothered voice.

“Be a good girl today,” he murmured. Pandora smiled, her cheeks aflame, and she tried to gather her wits as he left.

KILL ME