Excerpt of Lord Midnight by Donna Cummings

Something had moved in the bed.

The room should have been empty, but he realized too late it was not. Remnants of a fire glowed in the fireplace against the far wall, and he could see now there were no telltale signs of neglect in the bedchamber.

Gabriel crept forward to see who occupied the bed he still considered his. The embers of the dying fire highlighted a young woman in deep sleep, a froth of blonde hair enveloping her. He reached his hand toward the golden silkiness, so reminiscent of the intrepid beauty earlier that night.

His hand stilled.

It was Lord Westbrook's betrothed.

Gabriel lowered his hand over the sleeping beauty's mouth, simultaneously waking her and stifling her scream. She clawed at his hand, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to move further away from him.

Gabriel slanted forward to restrain her, pinning her down with his arms. He felt a moment's remorse at causing her such anguish, particularly when she battled him even more fiercely. Yet he had too much at stake should she sound an alarm.

"Ssh, angel. You'll come to no harm at my hand if you cooperate."

He leaned closer, intent on reassuring her further, but the softness of her warm body nearly distracted him. She tugged at his hand once more, trying to get free of his grip.

"I do not mean to harm you."

She raised her eyebrows, and he could swear her expression was an exasperated one. Instead of being frightened by his presence, she was signaling she found his tactics rather clumsy.

He felt the release of tension under his hand, and saw some of the annoyance leave her eyes.

"No coercion is needed, then?"

She shook her head to demonstrate her compliance.

"Why are you here," he whispered, "in this bedchamber?"

He lifted his hand, his eyes warning her of the consequences should she attempt to scream.

"I would ask you the same," she countered.

"I shall tell you my purpose once I learn the reason for your presence," he bargained, though not altogether truthfully.

"I meant to avail myself of some sleep," she muttered. "As you recall, I was beset by highwaymen this evening."

This time he could not halt a chuckle. "Well?" he prompted.

"I am to stay at my betrothed's home until the wedding."

The unexpected reply stopped Gabriel's heart for one beat. He had known she was to wed Lord Westbrook, but he had not realized she would be staying at his home, or rather, Gabriel's rightful home.

He grinned. Would Lord Westbrook find it amusing that Gabriel was comfortably entwined with the man's future bride?

The notion made his heart pound. After so many years wishing he could bring about Edmund's downfall, Gabriel had not expected such an opportunity to present itself. Yet, much as he wanted to, he could not implement his plot just then. He did not want to risk capture before he could commence the delicious scheme, and with the Westbrook rubies still on his person, he risked a great deal more than was wise.

He reached for her flaxen hair. She scarce seemed to breathe, yet he was unable to resist one touch while she remained in his arms. Her hair was as soft as down, and he smoothed the length of it several times. With each caress, he pulled her sweet body closer to his. Too late he realized it was well nigh impossible to rein in his desire for the brave miss.

He released his arms with the greatest of reluctance. "Mistress Angel."

She sighed, the soft hiss filling the now-silent bedchamber.

It was followed by another sound, this time from the hallway.

Footsteps.

Gabriel scrambled upright, his pulse racing. There was too much at stake should he be discovered here.

The footsteps resonated through the otherwise hushed hallway, tapping out Gabriel's doom. He turned his head toward the door he had entered earlier, gauging his chances of escape. It was too far away, and much too risky.

His eyes darted to the French door across the room. It was impossible to make it there in time.

The footfalls grew louder, more urgent, pounding in the same rhythm as Gabriel's heart. Whoever it was, they were close now, almost to the door. He could try to brazen his way past the visitor, or engage them in some sort of fisticuffs. It would permit him to escape, but it would also alert Edmund to his existence, spoiling Gabriel's newfound plan for revenge.

Seeing no other choice, he rejoined his angelic companion in her bed.

She gasped, although the sound was muffled by his hand once more covering her mouth.

Gabriel pulled her to his side. At that tense moment, he was unable to savor the sensations of her body pressed so intimately to his.

"Angel, do nothing that might give me away," he whispered.

Before she could respond, he dove beneath the silk counterpane.