Robin Schone Gabriel's Woman (best pdf ebook reader for android .txt) 📖

said, gaze never leaving Gabriel’s.

The serrated knife caressed instead of cut, smearing a line of crimson blood across Victoria’s paper-white

cheek. “Gabriel quite likes Mademoiselle Childers, don’t you, Gabriel?”

A pulse throbbed at the base of Victoria’s throat; the V of her bodice revealed a hint of shadow, the

valley between her breasts.

The Adams revolver weighted Gabriel’s shoulder.

He remembered the taste of her cry as he brought her to orgasm just scant hours earlier.

“Yes,” he said in an emotionless voice that belonged to neither a boy who had wanted to be an angel nor

a man who had wanted to be a part of a woman. “I like Victoria.”

Laughter crinkled the violet eyes. “Gabriel, you think I brought the mints. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but

they belong to Mademoiselle Childers. I believe she intended to use them on you, but dropped them in her

excitement when she saw me. It was quite amusing, mon ange, watching the two of you, a governess who

had never touched a man sparring with a whore who was afraid to be touched. You were both so very

eager to be seduced.

Relief coursed through Gabriel, that Victoria had not been forced to perform fellatio. It was followed by

anger.

For the first time in almost fifteen years, he had taken what he wanted. Now it was time to pay the price.

“You said he couldn’t fuck a woman,” Delaney protested, pearl-handled pistol belligerently pointed at

Gabriel. Clearly he was not a stranger to the weapon; he expertly held it between short, effeminate fingers.

“You said she would still be a virgin.”

Fuck a woman raced up Gabriel’s spine; it was chased by still be a virgin.

Would Victoria be safe if she were still a virgin?

“Now, now, old chap.” Yves did not spare Delaney a glance. “Think how much more amusing it will be

to fuck an angel’s woman. Although, Mademoiselle Childers, I do apologize: I sincerely doubt if Delaney

here is quite l’etalon—the stallion—that our two angels here are.”

Delaney glared at Gabriel, his mouth petulant underneath the perpetually smiling mustache.

He was a jealous man, and he was a frightened man.

Both emotions were useful.

“How long have you lived within my walls?” Gabriel asked of the second man.

“Forester was quite clever, was he not?” Yves preened; his violet eyes were cold and calculating. “I do

not like the English climate, but I confess, watching you plan to entrap me these last months has provided no

end of entertainment. Come now, Gabriel, did you not feel my presence just once?”

Yes.

Gabriel had felt his presence every waking and sleeping moment for the last fourteen years, eight

months, three weeks and one day.

He had felt it when he woke this day.

Gabriel glanced away from the violet eyes, needing to know...

“Who wrote the letters, Delaney?”

Delaney’s chest swelled with pride. “Mary and I. It is a part of our game.”

A game to systematically destroy women’s lives.

“Why are you here?”

Delaney’s pride gave way to apprehension. He nervously shifted his feet.

Michael stepped sideways, synchronizing his footsteps to those of Delaney’s.

Did he realize the truth yet?

“I came to collect what is mine,” Delaney said with the aggression that comes with fear.

“But who suggested you come here tonight, Delaney?” Gabriel prodded, planting the seeds of dissent. “

Was it you, or Yves?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

But it mattered very much when a man was a pawn and didn’t realize it. Such men did not survive in

games of power.

“You’ll never have Mademoiselle Childers,” Gabriel said gently.

Victoria had been chosen for Gabriel.

“And who’s going to stop me?” Delaney sneered. “You are not in a position to stop your betters, my

good man.”

“I will stop you,” the second man said suddenly. “Your role is over, Delaney. You have played it aptly;

now it is time to take your bow.”

“I say_”

Between one heartbeat and the next, the second man swung his arm away from Victoria’s shoulder,

sighted the Colt revolver, and pulled the trigger.

Delaney slammed against the open door behind him; a round hole appeared in his forehead. At the same

time the explosion of gunfire ripped through the air.

A look of supreme surprise suffused Delaney’s face; his mouth beneath the smiling mustache was a

round O. He crumpled to the floor.

The stench of evacuation was immediate.

Victoria’s pupils dilated in black shock.

“Michael, if you take one more step, I will have to decide who to kill next,” the second man said

pleasantly “That is not a part of the play.”

Michael paused.

“What is a part of the play?” Gabriel asked carefully.

Every pulse inside his body beat a warning.

Yves had brought Delaney to show Gabriel that he had written the letters and not Yves; when Delaney

had no longer served a purpose, Yves had dispatched him.

Yves had sent Victoria to Gabriel; at what point would she no longer serve a purpose?

“Soon, mon ange” Yves murmured. “But first you will give me the Adams revolver you are wearing

underneath your jacket.”

Gabriel instinctively reached inside his overcoat and the wool day coat underneath; the silk lining

caressed his knuckles.

The butt of the rosewood pistol was a familiar grip. The weight a comforting burden.

He slipped it out of