And then he kissed her.
It wasn’t a soft kiss, either. He backed Gabby up against the column and pinned her there, his lips hard against hers. She opened her mouth and he stole inside with a husky groan of satisfaction. Gabby tried to free her arms, longing to wind them around his neck, run her fingers through his black curls. But he held them firmly at her side.
“You’re not angry?” she gasped when he pulled away for a breath of air.
“Furious.” He kissed her again. Nolan released her arms and curled his own around her hips, pulling her away from the column and against him.
“You don’t seem furious,” she whispered, eyes closed, a smile tugging at her throbbing lips.
He held her so closely that the rumble of laughter in his chest passed to hers. “All right. I’m jealous. I wanted to be the one to train you.”
Gabby opened her eyes. The unexpected kiss had plunged her into a swirly kind of fog.
“But you can’t,” she said, an edge of sadness intruding. “Because your father won’t allow me to join the Alliance.” She closed her eyes. “And now I’m to dine with him so he can whisper enticing persuasions to Ingrid and Grayson so that they’ll join and wield their demon gifts for the greater good.”
Nolan leaned his forehead against hers and sighed. “My da’s decision is final, so no, lass, you can’t join the Alliance. Not yet.” He rubbed his nose against the tip of hers. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t keep learning how to fight. If it’s done between us, in private, there’s no reason anyone else has to know.”
Gabby liked how that sounded. She brought her mouth to his, kissing him first this time. She felt Nolan’s lips stretch into a smile. He captured her bottom lip with a soft nip of his teeth.
“Do you have anything you wish to confess?” he murmured.
Gabby drew back, confused by his question. She followed his gaze to an old, worn confessional tucked back in the closest alcove chapel. The two connected wooden booths, one for the priest and the other for the sinner, still had their solid doors attached.
Nolan snaked his arm around Gabby’s waist and stepped up onto the raised floor of the alcove chapel.
“You’re wicked,” she whispered. “May I remind you that we are in a house of the Lord?”
Nolan continued toward the confessional, pulling her with him. “And how hospitable of him. Look, he’s provided us a room of our very own.”
He reached for the small knob on the confessional door and twisted. It swung open with a groan of its rusted hinges.
Gabby peered into the dark booth. There was a small wooden seat inside, and a carved iron grate set in the wall. She thought of all the sins whispered through that latticed ironwork. She rose onto her toes and kissed Nolan, loving the feel of him. How he gathered her against him in that stubborn, unyielding way of his. What she felt for him wasn’t a sin.
“If you’ll remain a gentleman?” she asked.
Nolan swiveled on his heels and twirled her into the shadowy booth. He stepped inside the small space with her, their bodies forced even closer together. “Define gentleman,” he said, his breath already hot against her neck.
She giggled, feeling somewhat relieved when he left the confessional door open partway.
If she could, she’d stay tucked away like this all day. Just her and Nolan, kissing. But she’d soon be missed. If not by her mother, who kept busy most days with her gallery plans, then definitely by her father, who seemed far more idle than he ever had in London.
“I can’t,” she said. Nolan froze. Pulled back.
“You know me, Gabby. Of course I promise to be a gentleman,” he said, brow furrowed in earnest.
She laughed. “Not that. My training. It’s too difficult. My father watches me constantly, and if I keep sneaking out at night, I’m bound to get caught.”
Nolan loosened his arms from her waist. He probably hadn’t considered Gabby’s constraints. He’d never had them himself, she gathered. His father had raised him within the Alliance, after all. She bet he’d never even had a curfew.
“Then I’ll come to you,” he answered.
“But how?”
“You won’t have to sneak out at night. I’ll sneak in,” he said. “We can practice in your room at the rectory.”
“Don’t be absurd—you can’t come to my room in the middle of the night!”
He formed a slow, arrogant smile and began to reel her back in, closer to him. “You don’t want me there?”
The confessional booth was growing warmer by the second. “I—” She sealed her lips. She shouldn’t say yes, but of course she wanted him there. To train, she scolded herself.
“My room is on the upper floor. How will you get in?”
“I’ll fly him up.”
Nolan and Gabby tore out of their embrace and turned toward the booth’s open door. Dimitrie stepped into the alcove chapel and stood just outside the confessional. How long had he been watching them? Gabby flushed.