Embrace the Night

Page 102



He followed her because he was eager to be away from the place, but he didn't believe her words for a minute. She had felt something, and whatever it was had drained the color from her face.

He rose as soon as the sun had set. After drawing water from the well behind the cottage, he bathed, then changed his clothes and packed a few of his belongings.

With preternatural speed, he made his way into town and secured lodgings at the best hotel Paris had to offer. After unpacking his clothing, he ordered a bouquet of flowers and a midnight supper for two, and then he left the hotel.

For an hour, he walked the streets. For Sara, he would reenter the mainstream of humanity. He would take her to parties; he would take her dining and dancing, though he would have to be careful to avoid mirrors and other reflective surfaces. If she wished, he would accompany her to London when the company left Paris.

He sat in his usual box during her performance, mesmerized, as always, by her beauty. She moved with an inherent grace that was enchanting. Each step, each movement of her hand, each facial expression, was perfection.

And Maurice… Gabriel let his gaze rest upon the young man. What was he going to do about Maurice? The man didn't know anything, and yet he suspected far too much. Gabriel's first instinct was to kill Delacroix, but that he could not do. Sara liked the young man. But for her affection, Maurice would be dead even now.

Muttering an oath, Gabriel dismissed Maurice from his mind and lost himself once again in the magic that was Sara Jayne.

As always, she flew into his arms when the show was over, her eyes shining with happiness and the knowledge that she had danced beautifully.

"Where shall we go tonight?" she asked, slipping her arm through his.
"My hotel?" he answered casually.

"Your hotel?" She hesitated only a moment. "Yes, I'd like that."

She was surprised when he summoned a carriage, and even more surprised when they arrived at the Hotel de Paris.

"Is this where you stay?" she asked, her eyes growing wide as they stepped into the lobby of the hotel.

Never in all her life had she seen anything so grand. The carpets, the tapestries, the long, winding staircase. A chandelier to rival the one at the Opera hung from the intricately carved and painted ceiling.

His room was equally grand. Heavy velvet draperies covered the windows. A matching spread covered the enormous brass bed. The furniture was rich red mahogany, the settee of fine damask.

She made a slow circle, taking everything in, frowning when she noticed there was no looking glass.