Devil in Spring (The Ravenels, #3)

by Lisa Kleypas

“The rest of the world can wait,” Sebastian said firmly. “I’m going to debauch you for the ten thousandth time, Evie—and for once, I want you to pay attention.”

One glance at him was enough to make her feel as if she were trying to breathe at high altitude. What would it do to a man’s character to be so inhumanly beautiful? It couldn’t be anything good.

“I’m afraid I never ruin more than one young woman a night.” His tone was a mockery of politeness. “A man has to draw the line somewhere.”

Before Gabriel even realized what he was doing, he reached out to lift her chin with his fingers. She struggled to hold back her amusement, but it slipped out nonetheless. Droll, sneaky laughter, punctuated with vole-like squeaks, while sparks danced in her blue eyes like shy emerging stars. Her grin made him lightheaded. Damn it.

His annoyance drained away, displaced by a rampage of heat and delight. His heart began to thump with the force of his need to be alone with her. To be inside all that energy. Everything in him had just ignited like a bonfire, and he wanted her, wanted her, with all the reckless, self-indulgent desire he usually managed to keep contained. But it made no sense. He was a civilized man, an experienced one with sophisticated tastes, and she was . . . holy God, what was she?

Gabriel wanted to pounce on her. He wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her senseless.

She was interested, no matter how she fought it. And God help him . . . so was he.

“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.”

Pandora couldn’t quite hear Lord St. Vincent’s reply over the pounding of her heart. His nearness, the protective arm around her, that gently roaming hand . . . all of it seemed to be awakening parts of her, deep inside, that had never been awake before.

The duke went to his wife, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back. He seemed to luxuriate in her presence like a great cat.

This was the first time she’d truly been able to relax after days of anguish and guilt. He was so large and substantial that she felt like a small wild creature who’d just found refuge.

There was no interference of thought or time, no past or future. There was only this moment, the two of them standing together in a sun-drenched path of flowering vines and sweet dry grass.

Clutching his shoulders, she sought his mouth again and arched against the hard masculine contours of his body. Not enough . . . she wanted him to crush her, take her to the ground, and hold her there with his full weight.

She was beautiful. Complex. Frustrating. He’d never met a woman who was so wholly and resolutely herself.

The rules of logic by which he’d always lived had somehow been subverted so that marrying Lady Pandora Ravenel was now the only acceptable outcome. He was unprepared for this girl, this feeling, this infuriating uncertainty that he might not end up with the one person he absolutely must be with.

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.

Gabriel smiled absently and gave a slight shake of his head. “Am I staring? Forgive me. It’s only that I adore the way you laugh.”

“In this case,” Pandora said, “it’s definitely not true. My laugh sounds like a serenading tree frog swinging on a rusty gate.” 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.

Oh, how confusing this was, this maddening need to crawl inside his clothes, practically inside his skin.

Gabriel sat up a little and cradled her more closely against him. Nuzzling her cheek, he whispered, “Isn’t it obvious that everything about you gives me pleasure?”

Smiling, Gabriel took her head between his hands and looked into her eyes. “Your kiss thrilled me beyond imagining,” he whispered. “Every night for the rest of my life, I’ll dream of the afternoon in the holloway, when I was waylaid by a dark-haired beauty who devastated me with the heat of a thousand troubled stars, and left my soul in cinders. Even when I’m an old man, and my brain has fallen to wrack and ruin, I’ll remember the sweet fire of your lips under mine, and I’ll say to myself, ‘Now, that was a kiss.’”

“Thank you for being so frank with me,” she said spontaneously. “It’s nice to be treated like an adult.” With a quick, awkward laugh, she added, “Even if I don’t always behave like one.” “Being imaginative and playful doesn’t make you any less of an adult,” Gabriel said gently. “It only makes you a more interesting one.”

Pandora looked at his profile, silhouetted against the red tarnish of sunset. He was a fantasy figure—the kind who existed in other girls’ dreams. Not hers. Before she came to Heron’s Point, she had known exactly what she wanted, and what she didn’t want, but now everything was muddled.

Pandora snorted. “After what my sister Helen told me about the conjugal embrace, I can’t fathom why any woman would willingly consent to it. But I suppose if any man could make it slightly less revolting than it sounds, it would be you.” “Thank you,” Gabriel said, sounding bemused. “I think.”

“You’re not worried about principles.” Gabriel leaned closer, crowding her gently back against the column. His taunting whisper curled in her right ear like a wisp of smoke. “You’re worried that you might do something naughty with me and enjoy it.”

Bringing his lips closer to her exposed ear, Gabriel spoke very softly. “You dazzle me, Pandora. Every beautiful, fascinating, kinetic molecule of you. The night we met, I felt you like an electric shock. Something about you calls to the devil in me. I want to take you to bed for days at a time. I want to worship every inch of you while the minutes smolder like moths that dance too close to the flame. I want to feel your hands on me, to—what is it, sweet?” He paused as he heard her indistinguishable muttering.

“I want to talk about how beautiful you are. About how you smell like white flowers and open windows and spring rain. About how soft and sweet you are . . . so sweet . . .”

He could hardly think past the insane desire, his body struggling in every muscle. He could feel how hot she was even through the fabric of his trousers. Mine, his blood screamed. He needed to have her. Mate her.

Gabriel took her upper arms in a firm grip. His eyes were as bright as lit matches as he stared at her. “I never want you to be in any man’s arms but mine.”

She pushed at his chest. It was as hard as a stone wall. “Don’t say that.” “You belong with me.” “No.” “You feel it,” he insisted, “every time we’re together. You want—”

“I can’t live without you.”

His touch on her skin . . . that low, velvety voice . . . it seemed to ease every tight place inside her. The knots of fear and resentment melted into fluid warmth. As they took up the position again, it started to feel like they were working together, striving for a common goal. It felt like a partnership.

She would have to lose something. But no matter what else she gave up, this man was the thing she couldn’t lose. She burst into tears. Not dainty, feminine tears, but a messy, red-faced explosion of sobs. The most terrible, beautiful, stunning feeling she’d ever known had come crashing over her in a huge wave, and she was drowning in it.

“You’re so beautiful . . . so precious to me. I’m not asking for a surrender, I’m offering you one. I’ll do anything. It has to be you, Pandora . . . only you . . . for the rest of my life. Marry me . . . say you’ll marry me . . .”

He wanted her all to himself, every word and glance, every touch of her hand, every glint of light on her hair and breath from her lips. He was jealous of the air that touched her skin.

Stroking the exquisite line of her cheek, Gabriel murmured, “I’d like to worship you.”

He adored her. There was no one like her, and she belonged to him completely . . . although he knew better than to say that out loud.

Gabriel breathed as if he were in torment, claiming her mouth with long, fevered kisses, murmuring darkly as his hands roamed over her. “Your body is so exquisite . . . so strong and soft . . . the way it curves here . . . and here . . . God, I want you so much . . . I need more hands to feel you with.”

“I want to stay inside you as long as possible. The pleasure you give me . . . it’s like discovering lovemaking for the first time.”

Gabriel let out a quiet groan, his forehead drawn as if he were in pain. “Just hold me,” he said hoarsely. “Keep all the pieces of me together. My God—I’ve never—”

“Your lovemaking,” she informed him, “is a gift.”

“You obsess me, with your sweet mouth and clever little hands . . . your beautiful back . . . and legs . . .”

“You need a hobby,” Pandora said severely as she felt his erection against her bottom. “Have you ever tried writing poetry? Building a ship in a bottle?” “You’re my hobby.”

He loved her more than was good for either of them. She filled him with a wellspring of joy he’d never connected to the sexual act before. No wonder he lusted after her constantly. No wonder he felt so possessive, and worried every moment she was out of his sight.

His lips caressed hers with lingering pressure, until her mouth opened to take in more of the sultry heat and sweetness. Tenderly his fingertips stroked her throat, teasing a flush to the surface of her skin. He licked into the kiss, the velvety stroke awakening an erotic pang low in her stomach. Her head swam, and she reached out to steady herself by gripping his forearms. He was slow to finish the kiss, taking a last deep taste before reluctantly easing his mouth from hers. “Be a good girl today,” he murmured.

“Pandora,” he said huskily, holding her against his violently thumping heart. “I love you more than I can bear. You’re everything to me. You’re the reason the earth turns and morning follows night. You’re the meaning of primroses and why kissing was invented. You’re the reason my heart beats. God help me, I’m not strong enough to survive without you. I need you too much . . . I need you . . .”

“Tell me again,” he eventually whispered, his eyes brilliant in the heightened color of his face. “I love you,” she said, and pulled his head down to hers.

He was her partner, lover, and husband—everything she hadn’t known she’d always wanted.

“Easy, little pirate.” Gabriel smiled and smoothed her hair until she relaxed against him. “There’s time enough for that. I’m yours tonight and forever, through joy, adversity, and the thousand natural shocks of life.” His voice turned irresistibly soft, like raw velvet. “But for now all I want is to hold you, Pandora . . . my heart, my slow waltz, my sweet fate. Let me watch over your dreams tonight . . . and in the morning I’ll worship you as you deserve. What do you say to that?”