Embrace the Night

Page 202



and ran for the heavy iron gate that led to the street.

"Sarah."

His voice. Just the sound of his voice speaking her name. But it brought her to an abrupt halt. She didn't turn around, didn't acknowledge that he'd spoken, just stood there, waiting, her heart beating a wild tattoo.

He made no sound, but she knew he was standing behind her, and then she felt his hands, his long fingers curling over her shoulders, sliding down her arms, sending shivers up and down her spine, and he breathed her name.

"No." She shook her head. "I can't. I don't even know you…" She gasped as his arms slid around her waist, drawing her close so that her back was snug against his chest. "It's too soon…"

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath as he rested his chin on the top of her head. His body sprang to life at her nearness; his nostrils filled with the scent of her skin, of scented soap and shampoo. He could hear the rapid beat of her heart, hear the blood thrumming through her veins, warm and sweet with the vitality of life. To his dismay, he felt the blood-lust stir within him, hotter and stronger than his burgeoning desire for her flesh.

"Please," she murmured, "please let me go. I… I don't even know your last name."
"Ognibene." His breath was hot against the side of her neck.

"Is that…" She swallowed against the dryness of her throat. His arms had settled around her waist, holding her firmly against him. She cleared her throat. "Is that Italian?"

"Yes."

"You're from Italy, then?" She was babbling, but she couldn't think clearly, not with his arms around her, not with his breath feathering against her cheek. He smelled of the wind, of musky male sweat, of the night itself.

"Near Vallelunga."
"Never heard of it."

She shifted in his grasp, as though testing the strength of his hold, and he let his arms fall to his sides, though his body was still pressed intimately against hers.

Gabriel held his breath, waiting. He could feel her indecision, knew that she was as aware of the charged atmosphere between them as he was. She wanted him. And he wanted her, wanted her with every fiber of his being.

Sarah worried her lower lip with her teeth, wishing his arms were still holding her because now she had to make the decision whether to remain with her back resting against his chest, or to move away.

Prudence urged her to break all contact with this strange man, to run out the gate and never look back, but every feminine instinct begged her to stay where she was, to rest her head against his shoulder, to let him wrap his arms around her once more and hold her tight.