Embrace the Night

Page 78



With a sigh of surrender, she closed her eyes and gave herself up to the magic of his touch. It was her total lack of fear, her complete trust in him, that was his undoing.

An animal-like growl of pain rose in his throat as he devoured her mouth with his. She was sunshine and light, goodness and hope, the innocence of youth, everything that was forever lost to him. He kissed her deeply, searching for salvation, wishing for humanity. She was soft and supple in his arms, willing, eager, a foolish moth racing toward the flames of destruction, and he didn't have the strength to protect her.

His hands delved beneath her gown to find living flesh and skin softer than velvet, smoother than satin. In moments, her gown was on the floor. In another moment, his clothes joined hers. And then she was in his arms, a study in perfection from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. And she was his. His for the taking.

He loved her gently, his hands trembling, his voice ragged with the effort to hold back, until his body was on fire for her. He was on the verge of making her his when he heard her soft cry of pain.

Horrified, he froze, his body poised over hers. Only then did he realize that the hunger was also burning through him, that his kisses were no longer gentle, that his fangs had almost pierced the fragile skin at her throat.

Not knowing how close she was to danger, she arched beneath him, seeking fulfillment for the restless wanting of her body.

With a growl, he drew away and turned his back to her. "Gabriel?"

Her voice was low and uneven, filled with confusion. "Forgive me," he said gruffly. "I didn't mean…"

"Gabriel." She placed a tentative hand on his back, felt his whole body shudder at her touch. "I want you."

"No, Sara," he replied, his voice ragged. "Don't ask me." "I don't understand."

"Please let me go." It was a cry of anguish, a plea for her to be strong because his need for her made him weak and vulnerable.

"No!"

"It's for the best."

"It's not!" Embarrassed and hurt by his rejection, she sat up, her arms crossed over her breasts. "I wish I'd never left England," she said, fighting back her tears. "I wish I was still in that awful chair. You loved me then. I know you did."