"As much as I know you'll hate to hear it," Obsidian murmured, stroking the hair off her face, "maybe you're not the one who can reach him. He's spent years protecting you. He sees that as his role, and the idea of reversing it is simply incomprehensible to him."
"We can protect him too," she growled. "If he'd just let us."
"I know." Obsidian brushed his knuckles against her lips. "After what happened in Russia, he's more than aware of it. He's just struggling to admit it. You want a proud man to bare his soul, but it's entirely possible he won't. Or can't."
Gemma shivered at the sensuous touch. "How do I help him?"
"Be there," he murmured. "The way you were for me. He will come to you if he needs you. He loves you, Gemma. You're the sister he never had. He trusts you. And if he is on the verge of breaking he knows you will—"
"He'll never admit it," she said, knowing Malloryn all too well.
"True." Obsidian rolled onto his back. "Though there is one spark of hope."
She turned onto her side, to drape a thigh over his. "The duchess? You noticed that too?"
"I know what a man looks like when he's trying to pretend a woman hasn't captured his interest. I saw that look every day in the mirror for the last five years. Maybe he just needs to release some of that tension."
"I would say ‘poor duchess', but then I was watching his face when Adele handed him a set down in the garden of Lady Rutherford's ball. You might be right. She's proved herself his match." A chuckle escaped her. "Oh, and he doesn't like it."
"Malloryn likes to control things." A finger traced over her thigh. "It baffles him when he can't."
"Like his feelings," Gemma mused, though she knew her gaze had darkened. She enjoyed those softer moments where she could lie in her lover's arms and merely talk, but the stroke of his hand was distracting. "And the duchess."
"Which are currently tied together," he pointed out, his fingers tracing up and down her thigh. "Are we done speaking about the duke?"
"Are you feeling neglected, my love?"
His eyes darkened. "Always."
"Then let me make it up to you."
Rolling over the top of him, she straddled his hips. Obsidian's lips quirked as he toyed with the flimsy hem of her nightgown. "Is there any point in wearing this when it's so fine I can see right through it?"
Gemma slid her palms up his bare chest. "That is kind of the point."
"Oh?"
"Don't think I cannot see how well you manage the duke. And me." She dug her nails in. "You think I need to release a little bit of tension too."
"I offer myself as willing sacrifice."
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to his chest. "How noble of you."
His hand slid through her hair. "I thought so too."
"Fine." She bit at his thumb as it rasped over her cheek. "I'll stop worrying about Malloryn if you'll shut up and kiss me."
"It's a deal," Obsidian purred, dragging her face down to his.
Chapter 22
Lights glittered in the ballroom, like a thousand stars sparkling in the night sky.
Watching Adele glide down the stairs made Malloryn's breath catch in his tracks. She'd been caught up in the receiving queue with Gemma as she introduced her husband's "cousin from the country" and he'd been so focused on the mission at hand that the sudden shock of her as she appeared on the stairs momentarily stunned him.
She looked utterly ravishing in a raspberry pink gown that sat just off her shoulders and displayed her full curves to best advantage. Tendrils of hair hung from her elegant chignon and brushed against her collarbone, where her favorite pearls gleamed.
"I'm saving my diamonds for you," she'd whispered as he handed her up into the carriage, and he'd spent the entire carriage ride trying not to think about her in just those diamonds.
Keeping his hands off her was becoming more and more difficult with each passing hour.
Someone coughed discreetly at his side. "You're staring. And the lady is spoken for, I believe. You don't want to earn the wrath of her husband, as I'm told he's a cold, vicious bastard."
Malloryn glanced at Lord Barrons as his oldest friend paused at his side. They'd gone through Eton together, fought duels side by side, and wooed many a young woman in the Echelon before a minor argument had parted them for several years.
They'd managed to set aside their differences during the revolution. And then Barrons had played an integral part in his rescue from Russia.
The fact that so many people had risked their lives to save his still left him reeling at times.
"Barrons. Lady Haynes's standards must be slipping. I didn't realize she'd invited the riffraff."
"Oh, it's you," Barrons said, in mock surprise. A ruby earring winked in his ear. "From the way you were perusing your wife as if she were something to be consumed, I didn't quite recognize you."
"Bugger off," Malloryn replied, scanning the room for signs of Gemma and Obsidian. He'd set them to keep an eye out for Thomas Mowbray. "Haven't you got anything more important to do? Where's your wife?"
"Eviscerating Lord Carlyle. It was embarrassing to watch."
Mina did have that way about her.
"So what brings you out of your dark little hidey hole?" Barrons asked.
Malloryn paused, glancing around. Both Barrons and Mina were on the Council of Dukes who helped rule the city. They'd be mostly up-to-date with the situation. "I'm setting a trap."
"For?"
"Sir George," he murmured.
Barrons's eyebrows rose. "As in, Hamilton? Your father-in-law?"
Malloryn discreetly turned away from the ballroom. "It appears Sir George has been up to no good."
"Those old friends of yours?" Barrons murmured.
"Yes."
"There you are," Adele said, appearing at his side and rapping his arm with her fan. "You were supposed to wait for me."
"We were just talking about you," Barrons said, a teasing twinkle in his eye. "You look utterly captivating tonight, Duchess."
"Thank you, Lord Barrons." Adele seemed a trifle disconcerted by the compliment.
"Don't you agree, Malloryn?"
"Adele knows how lovely she is," he murmured.