Copyright © 2007 Esmerelda Bishop
All rights reserved, Freya's Bower.
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Who could this woman be? Devlin had known she wasn't his Gabrielle as soon as he stared deep into her green eyes. They were identical on the outside, but the inside was a different matter. Amnesia or not, it was impossible for her to be Gabrielle. Relief almost brought him to his knees at the knowledge.
Devlin returned to the castle and searched for her, even went to her room and sent a maid in retrieve her. Only to be told the chamber was empty.
Where could she be hiding?
Now restless, he prowled the castle halls. A creak of an opening door made him pause. Devlin glanced behind him and watched Gabrielle leave her room. Hidden in the shadows, he followed her as she descended the stairs.
Watching her disappear into the Great Hall, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. What was she doing?
A heavy sigh reached his ears. Gabrielle walked back into his line of sight. She had wrapped herself in the cloak he'd found earlier.
Panic rose in his throat and strangled him. On shaky legs, he stumbled down the stairs.
"Where do you think you are going?" His tone came out harsher than he intended.
Gabby jumped. A squeak of surprise passed her lips, and she smacked her mouth with her hand.
"Jesus, Devlin, you scared me!"
He couldn't care less that he scared her. Only one topic was important to him at this time.
"Where are you going?"
"I'm leaving."
"The hell you are." Without thought, he moved forward and pinned her against the wall. Her hands came up to push on his chest. But Devlin refused her attempt to push him away. He grabbed her wrists and forced them above her head. Shocked green eyes met his.
Unable to resist her tilted face, he claimed her parted lips. He plunged his tongue into her mouth and almost jerked backward at the sheer rightness of the kiss. This was what he'd waited on.
A groan from Gabrielle urged him to continue. Need overcame his senses. Devlin released her wrists and pulled at the fabric of her gown. Desperation to claim her now compelled him.
Devlin lifted the material and revealed long, sleek legs. She wore no undergarments and, heaven help him, he would never allow her to again. Grasping her by the waist, he lifted her and pressed between her naked limbs.
Her small movements enflamed him further. With hands that trembled, he moved aside his plaid and plunged into her. She arched against him, throwing her head back.
"Yes, Devlin!"
Devlin thrust, hard and fast. Tight flesh squeezed around the length of him as he pumped into her. Small fingers ran through his hair, and her nails scored his scalp. He took her mouth in a deep kiss. Sliding his hand up her waist, he cupped her breast and kneaded the swollen flesh with his palm.