Read Online A Secret Love by Stephanie Laurens - Free Book Online Page B

by. Eventually, the countess sighed. Setting the papers back in the last box, she closed it, and pushed the box to Gabriel to relock. “Nothing.”
    â€œWe’ve still got Thurlow’s room. This will only have been half the practice.” Replacing the locked box on the top of the last shelf, Gabriel returned, picked up the lamp, and waved her on.
    She’d already closed and replaced the ledger she’d used as a screen; now she gave the desk one last, comprehensive glance, checking all was as it had been, then she preceded him out of the door.
    â€œWas this ajar?”
    â€œYes.” She glanced back and nodded at how he’d left the door. “Like that.”
    In Thurlow’s room, they arranged their workplace—the desk cleared, the lamp set and screened as before—then set to. It was slow, demanding work, scanning document after document, looking for any mention of the Central East Africa Gold Company. If anything, Thurlow’s room held more boxes than Brown’s; the bookshelves were taller.
    Gabriel was halfway through yet another box, when he heard a strangled “ Oh! ” He looked up—just in time to drop the papers he held, cross the room in two strides, and catch the stack of boxes teetering over the countess’s head.
    She was tall enough to reach the top shelf but, in this room, she hadn’t been able to grip the boxes, only touch them. At full stretch, she’d coaxed a stack of boxes to the edge of the shelf; they’d tipped, then started to slide . . .
    He reached over her head and grabbed them, his arms outside hers, his shoulders enclosing hers. They both froze, gripping the tin boxes, desperate not to let them clatter to the floor.
    There was less than an inch between them.
    Her perfume rose, wreathing his senses; her womanly warmth, clothed in soft, sensual flesh, teased them. The urge to close that small gap, to feel her lean against him, waxed strong.
    He sensed the leap of her pulse, the sudden fluster that gripped her. He heard her indrawn breath, sensed her uncertainty—
    Tilting his head, he touched his lips to her veiled temple. She stilled—the tension that gripped her changed in a flash from physical to sensual; from clinging to a physical pose, she was now teetering on a sensual precipice. He shifted, closing the gap between them until she stood stretched upward against him, touching but not pressing. Sliding his lips from her temple, caressing the line exposed by her back-swept hair, he dipped his head and traced the whorl of her ear, then slid his lips lower to tease and tantalize the sensitive spot below her lobe.
    Skillfully he tempted her to ease her locked muscles and lean against him. The silk veil shifted beneath his lips, a secondary caress. She caught her breath on a shaky sob and held it; he bent his head and traced the long line of her throat until, at last, she exhaled. Tentatively, ready to take flight at the slightest sign, she let her shoulders ease against his upper chest.
    Inwardly smiling in triumph, he angled his head upward, pressing gentle kisses into the hollow of her throat, encouraging her to raise her chin until finally her head tipped back against his shoulder. The warm curves of her back sank more definitely against him.
    He wanted much more, but their hands were locked on the boxes still held high and he didn’t dare break the spell. She was sweetly responsive but oh-so-skittish, like a mare never gentled to a man’s hand. So he kept each caress simple, direct, unthreatening, and as each moment passed, she sank more definitely against him. The subtle warmth of her flowed over his hardness; he was aroused but held the pain at bay. It flashed into his mind that she was a castle he intended storming; his present victory was much like watching her drawbridge come down.
    Eventually, she was leaning fully back against him. A fine tension still gripped her, but that derived more from