Robin Schone by Gabriel's Woman (10 ebook reader TXT) 📕

The second man had sent Victoria to him because she hungered. As Michael hungered.

Because she wanted. As Gabriel was incapable of wanting.

But why?

“You taught me to read and write,” Gabriel said, wanting to understand the second man’s motives.

Wanting to understand Michael’s motives. “Why?”

“You taught me to steal; I thought it a fair exchange.” Sharpness spiked Michael’s voice. “Who’s the

second man, Gabriel?”

Gabriel unflinchingly met Michael’s gaze.

“You know who he is,” he replied imperturbably.

It had been Michael who had found Gabriel chained in an attic like a dog, lying in his own filth, praying

for death.

But Michael had not let him die.

Gabriel wished he had.

“You told me he was the second man who raped you,” Michael said.

Two men had raped Gabriel; he had killed one, the second man still lived.

Gabriel did not look away from the suspicion that glimmered inside Michael’s gaze. “I said there was a

second man,” he agreed evenly.

“Yet prior to six months ago you never mentioned that there was a second man.”

“I did not realize you were interested in details. Forgive me, mon vieux,” Gabriel said silkily, purposefully

goading Michael. “I thought your interests lay elsewhere.”

In women instead of men, he implied.

Michael did not rise to the bait.

“What I thought, Gabriel, was that you were the one person in my life whom my past did not destroy.”

Black lashes veiled Michael’s eyes; he sat the earthenware pot of chocolate down on the silver tray.

Pain sliced through Gabriel.

It was inevitable that Michael eventually put together the pieces.

And Gabriel wished he could spare him that, too.

The soft click of glass impacting metal sounded over the drumming of his heart.

Slowly Michael raised his eyelashes, violet pinning silver. “But I was wrong, was I not, mon frere?

“None of us escape the past, Michael,” Gabriel said truthfully.

And waited. Knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop the coming sequence of events.

Michael soundlessly slid off the desk, violet eyes intent, the scar edging his cheek white with tension.

He took one step forward ...

“Why did the woman auction off her body inside your house, Gabriel?”

Two steps. . .

“Why does anyone sell their body, Michael?” Gabriel asked ironically.

His heartbeat accelerated.

He wondered how far Michael would push Gabriel in his quest for the truth. He wondered how far the

second man would push him in this game of death.

He wondered what he would do if Victoria tried to seduce him.

Three steps . . .

“You never before allowed auctions, mon ami,” Michael challenged.

Four steps .. .

“Tonight is the grand reopening of my house,” Gabriel returned calmly. Choosing the truth and the lies

with equal care. “I thought it appropriate.”

Five steps .. .

Michael raised an ironical brow. “And did you think it appropriate for the proprietor to outbid his patrons,

Gabriel?”

Six steps. . .

“Perhaps I got lonely, Michael,” he said quietly. “Perhaps I wanted a woman of my own.”

Gabriel did not know if he lied or not.

Seven steps . . .

“And the second man, did he also get lonely?” Michael caustically rejoined, violet eyes implacable in his

quest for the truth. “Is that why he bid twice on your woman?”

Your woman rebounded off the white enameled ceiling.

Black, masculine hair turned into dark feminine hair. Victoria’s voice rang inside his ears: I am afraid of

being touched by a man .. . I am afraid that I will lik e being touched by a man . .. I am afraid that I

am a whore in fact as well as in deed.

Instantly, Victoria’s dark hair turned into Michael’s black hair, a woman’s nakedness into a scarred

angel’s determination.

Gabriel felt the heat of Michael’s body, too close. He forced himself not to back away from his

approach. Just as he had forced himself not to bolt earlier when Victoria had approached him one step at a

time, pelvis jutting, hips swaying, breasts bouncing.

She had almost touched him. And for one heart-stopping moment he had almost let her.

Victoria had not known the consequences of touching him; Gabriel did.

Michael did.

“Perhaps,” Gabriel said easily, every muscle inside his body throbbing with awareness.

If Michael did not stop ...

Eight steps ...

Gabriel stiffened, left palm molding the hilt of the knife, right middle finger curving to cradle a trigger.

Michael halted. Chocolate-scented breath caressed Gabriel’s cheek.

Two angels stood eye to eye, one dark-haired, one fair-haired. One trained to please women, the other

trained to please men.

“Why didn’t you kill him, Gabriel?” Silver eyes reflected inside violet, violet inside silver, two men

trapped in a past neither had chosen. “I know he was here. You were prepared to shoot the woman; why

not the second man?”

So Michael had seen the blue-plated pistol.

Did he know how close he had come to death?

Did he know how close he now was to death?

“Did you see him, Michael?” Gabriel returned evenly.

“No, I didn’t see him, but you were standing over us, Gabriel. It would have been impossible for you not

to have seen him.”

Gabriel concentrated on the moist scent of chocolate instead of the violet eyes that sucked at his soul

and his fingers that independently tightened to protect himself. “Perhaps I do not see as clearly as I would

like to believe I do.”

Another truth. Gabriel had not planned on an accomplice who entered his house on the pretext of

auctioning