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

could not change?

The pale blue eyes accessed Victoria. “Gabriel purchased your virginity.”

Heat burned Victoria’s cheeks at the unexpected confrontation. She squared her shoulders, prepared for

condemnation. “Yes.”

“I purchased Michael to take my virginity.”

Victoria stared. Surely she could not have heard Anne Aimes correctly.

Taking a deep breath, Victoria carefully asked, “Did he?”

“All three.” Anne’s gaze did not waver. “So you see, we none of us can judge the other. We are all of us

here because we need physical intimacy.”

The echo of all three was replaced by we are all of us here because we need physical intimacy.

“Yes.” The second man—Yves—had chosen her because of her need for physical intimacy. “Where did

you meet... Michael?”

“Here.” Soft husky laughter permeated the bedroom. “Well, not here. I rendezvoused with Michael at

Gabriel’s previous house. I always wondered what the bedrooms were like there.”

Anne Aimes had surprised Victoria again. “You didn’t know?”

“No.” Annie sounded slightly disappointed. “Michael took me to his town house.”

Black hair flashed inside the mirror where Victoria’s face should be, was instantly gone. Truly her

imagination.

Or was it?

Would she ever again feel comfortable in front of a mirror?

“The mirrors aren’t. .. mirrors,” Victoria said. And immediately bit her lip.

Anne curiously studied the full-length gilded mirror. “Really.”

“They’re called transparent mirrors. As long as the light is brighter on one side, a person can look

through the mirror and . . . watch.”

The lingering image of black hair was suddenly replaced by an image of an older woman with a younger

man. Equal in their passion.

Anne’s eyes widened. “Have you .. . watched?”

Victoria would not lie. “Once.” And then, defensively, “I do not find physical intimacy repellent.”

“Neither do I, Victoria.” There was no censure in Anne’s eyes. “Michael and I are getting married. He

would be ... hurt, if Gabriel did not attend.”

Anne Aimes . . . and Michael.

Did Gabriel know they were getting married?

How much did Anne know of the night’s events?

How much did she know about Gabriel?

“I can’t promise what Gabriel will do or not do,” Victoria said truthfully.

She could not guarantee that Gabriel still wanted her. All she could do was hope.

Anne abruptly stood up. The oak nightstand was her goal.

Victoria joined her. She towered over Anne by three inches.

Silver and gold shone in Anne’s hair. She held up the silver tin of condoms. “There is a better

prophylactic than condoms.”

Victoria remembered the corrosive sublimate tablets Dolly had pressed upon her. Surely Anne Aimes did

not—

“It is called a diaphragm,” Anne said, no knowledge inside her eyes of a prophylactic that killed. “It is a

rubber cap that fits over a woman’s cervix.” Pale pink tinted her cheeks; her gaze did not falter. “

Diaphragms are more enjoyable for both a man and a woman, as it allows for maximum stimulation, but

they are available by prescription only. I can give you the name of a gynecologist, if you like.”

Victoria imagined what Gabriel would feel like without rubber sheathing his manhood. Wet flesh sliding

into wet flesh.

The heat coloring Anne’s cheeks leaped into her own. “Thank you. I would like that.”

Victoria remembered the tin of mints Julien had urged her to take from the nightstand. It had not been

replaced.

Impulsively she opened the top drawer, wanting to share the wonders of the House of Gabriel with this

woman who had possessed the courage to pursue her passion rather than be victimized by it.

Anne stared down at the row of artificial phalluses for long seconds.

“They are called godemichés” Victoria said evenly.

Lightly Anne touched the smallest. . . “And Goldilocks said this one is too small ...” Anne touched a

second godemiché, “And this one is too big. ..” Anne did not touch the third godemiché, “And this one is

just right.”

Victoria raised startled eyes to Anne’s.

Laughter danced inside the pale blue eyes.

A giggle rose up inside Victoria’s chest; it was stalled by the memory of Gabriel’s face. His eyes had

been dull gray instead of glittering silver. “I have to go.”

Compassion shouldn’t hurt; it ripped Victoria apart, seeing it in Anne’s eyes. “We all need to be loved,

Victoria.”

We all need physical intimacy . . .We all need to be loved.

It was little wonder Gabriel liked Anne Aimes. Victoria liked her, too.

She swallowed. “I don’t know where he is.”

There was no need for Anne to say Gabriel’s name; he was foremost in both of their minds.

“He’s in the adjoining room.”

Victoria wanted to hug Anne; hugging had not been a part of her curriculum. Gabriel was the only adult

she had ever expressed affection to. “Thank you,” she said awkwardly.

For not judging Victoria. For not judging Gabriel.

For loving an angel.

Gabriel lay on top of a blue silk spread, left arm thrown over his face.

There was dried blood on his shirtsleeve; it crusted the front of his shirt, brown instead of crimson.

Victoria leaned against the oak door, heart inside her throat.

Gabriel was not asleep; tension corded his every muscle.

“You didn’t lock the door,” she said. And turned the lock, a quiet click of finality.

Gabriel didn’t remove his arm, his voice was muffled. “You know what I am, Victoria.”

Tension danced in the air.

Gabriel was wounded.

Gabriel was dangerous.

She pushed away from the door and reached for the tiny eyelet hooks fastening her dress. “I know what

you are, Gabriel, and I will never forget.”

The tiny report of metal hooks unsnapping charged the air, each release