Embrace the Night

Page 21



these walls where she would doubtless receive the love of numerous children but never know the love of a man, or give birth to a child of her own.

A nun. He nearly choked on the word, on the idea. And then jealousy rose up within him, coiling around his heart. Better she should be a nun than find happiness in the arms of another man. A mortal man.

Right or wrong, he knew he would destroy any man who dared to touch her.

"Gabriel?" She was looking up at him, her head tilted slightly to one side, her eyes filled with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Of course."

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes." He sat down on the stool beside her bed. "I'm sure you would make a fine nun, cara, if that is your desire."

"It isn't, really." She lowered her gaze to her hands. "I want what every girl wants," she said, though her voice lacked conviction. "A husband. A home of my own. Children."

He grunted softly, neither agreeing or disagreeing, and she looked up at him again, her eyes aglow.

"I do want those things," she said, "but what I really want is to dance! Oh, Gabriel, if only I could dance."

"I'm afraid I cannot transform you into a ballerina," he said with regret, "but you could dance with me, if you like."

"With you? How?" "Like this."

Effortlessly, he lifted her from the bed and held her in his arms so that her feet were mere inches above the floor. And then, to her utter surprise, he began to sing, his voice soft and clear as he waltzed her around the room.

For a moment, she could only stare at him, mesmerized by the sound of his voice, and then, as he whirled her around and around, pleasure bubbled up inside her like a wellspring, erupting in peals of happy laughter. Ah, the wonder of it, she thought as he twirled her around with all the innate grace of a dancing master. She felt light and free, with her hair floating about her shoulders and Gabriel's voice wrapping around her, making her forget that it was his feet, and not hers, gliding smoothly over the polished floorboards.

He held her so lightly, so easily, as if she weighed nothing at all. His arm, curled around her waist, strong yet gentle. His hand held hers, warm, callused, a man's hand.

The laughter died in her throat as she gazed into his eyes, those fathomless gray eyes that held all the sadness of the world.

She hardly realized he had stopped dancing, stopped singing, so lost was she in the depths of his gaze.