Embrace the Night

Page 103



Before she could comment on the lack, there was a knock at the door and a young man entered the room pushing a tea cart with one hand and carrying a huge bouquet of flowers in the other.

Gabriel took the flowers. Bowing low, he handed them to Sara. "For you, cara." "They're beautiful, Gabriel," she murmured, touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you."
"Shall I serve you, monsieur?" the young man asked.

"That won't be necessary."

The young man's eyes widened as Gabriel pressed several coins into his hand. "Thank you, monsieur. And if you have need of anything else, please let me know." With a bow, he left the room.

"Enjoy your meal, cara," Gabriel said. He placed the tray on the small table near the window and lifted the cover. "I hope the pheasant is to your liking." He held her chair for her, then took the opposite seat.

"It looks delicious," Sara said. She cocked her head to one side and smiled. "I suppose you've already eaten?"

Gabriel nodded. "But don't let that spoil your dinner."

"I'm used to it," she said with a sigh. "Are you sure you won't share it with me?"

He glanced at her plate briefly, his stomach churning at the mere idea of digesting such a conglomeration of meat and vegetables. "I'm sure."

He filled their glasses with wine, then handed one to her. "To you, my sweet Sara," he said, touching his glass to hers. "May life bring you all the happiness you deserve."

She looked at him over the rim of her glass as she took a drink, felt the heat that arced between them as their gazes met.

"To us, my angel," she said, lifting her glass to his. "May we share all our tomorrows." "It is my fondest wish," Gabriel replied ardently.

The fervor of his words and the refulgent look in his eyes enveloped her in a warm haze. Lost in the promise of his hooded gray eyes, she began to eat, though she hardly tasted a thing.

She couldn't stop watching him. He sipped his wine while she ate, and she yearned to lick the drops from his lips. He placed his empty glass on the table, his fingers making lazy patterns on the stem, and she yearned to feel his hand caress her skin.

He smiled, as if he knew her thoughts, and she felt the blood rush to her cheeks, but she couldn't stop staring at him, couldn't keep from admiring the width of his shoulders, the sheer masculine beauty of his face.

He wore a loose-fitting white shirt, dark brown trousers, and brown leather boots, and she thought how perfect he would be to play the part of the prince in Sleeping Beauty, for his kiss had surely awakened her, to life, to love. To passion.