Embrace the Night

Page 26



"So sad," Sara murmured as the curtain came down on the first act. "So sad, but so beautiful." "Yes," Gabriel said, his hooded gaze locked on Sara's face, his voice husky. "So beautiful."

More than beautiful, he thought. Her cheeks were rosy with delight, her eyes were shining, her lips slightly parted. He could hear the excited beat of her heart, hear the blood humming through her veins, feel his own heart beating in cadence with hers.

Hands curled into tight fists, he shoved them into the pockets of his trousers, trying not to stare at the pulse throbbing in the hollow of her throat, trying to forget that she carried his blood in her veins. Trying not to think of what it would be like to savor the sweetness of her lifeblood.

With a supreme effort of will, he forced such thoughts away and concentrated on the music, on the look of delight on Sara's face.

Sara leaned forward as the curtain went up on Act Two, fascinated as Giselle was transformed into a Wili, a spirit who haunted the woods at night, enticing men to dance until they expired of exhaustion. Tears stung her eyes as Hilarion was killed by the Wilis and Myrtha, Queen of the Wilis, forced Giselle to attempt to destroy Albrecht in the same way. But Albrecht was spared, first by taking shelter under the cross on Giselle's grave, and then by dancing with Giselle until dawn, when Giselle returned to her grave.

When it was over, Sara sat back in her chair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. "Thank you, Gabriel," she said, her voice tinged with awe.

"You're welcome, cara."

"Wasn't she wonderful? I don't think Grisi could have done it better. Do you think Albrecht was really in love with Giselle? How could a nobleman make a whole village believe he was a peasant?"

Gabriel shrugged. "People believe what they want to believe," he said, and sat back in the seat, content to listen as Sara spoke enthusiastically of the costumes, the music, and always the ballerina.

When the theater was empty, he lifted her into his arms and carried her down the stairs and out to the surrey. Removing a robe from under the seat, he placed it over her lap, picked up the reins, and clucked to the horses.

It was a clear night, cool, with a slight breeze. A full moon hung low in the sky.

As they rode through the moon-dappled darkness, Sara was again aware of the man beside her. Inside the theater, she had been caught up in the magic of the music and the dancing, but here, in the quiet of a late summer night, alone with Gabriel, the ballet seemed far distant.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, studying his profile, noting the way the moonlight turned his hair to silver. He was a handsome man, dark and mysterious. And lonely.

The thought struck her with the force of a blow, and she realized that loneliness surrounded him, that it was his aloneness that called out to her above all else.

Too soon, they reached the orphanage and he was carrying her into her room.