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Gabriel.
It was Sunday morning, and he was still there. He had wanted to stay. Flutters of joy danced in her chest.
“Buenos días, cariño,” he rumbled in a husky morning voice that sent shivers of pleasure skittering through her.
“Hey,” she said as she tried to reach over him to silence the alarm. But he didn’t move, so all she managed to do was to mash her naked breasts against the muscular planes of his chest. “You’re not helping.”
“Why would I when this is working out so well for me?” Laughter laced his words. Then he rolled away to grab the shrilling phone and hand it to her.
After she silenced the alarm, she searched his face, examining the silver-gray eyes for shadows, the sculpted mouth and jaw for tension. She found none. “Did you sleep all right?” she asked.
“You don’t need to worry,” he said. “No silver masks haunted my nightmares because my dreams were all of you.” He nuzzled a kiss against her neck.
“Wow, you are good, even before coffee.” She loved his ridiculous compliment, but she laid her hand on his cheek to force him to look at her. “Are you really okay? Last night was rough.”
She caught a flash of annoyed pride in his eyes before he shook his head. His voice was raw when he said, “I almost slipped into a flashback. I should have been prepared, but I wasn’t expecting the masks.” He shifted her closer to him. “You pulled me back from the edge. Not just by letting me lose myself in your body, but by showing me that I am not alone.”
“How could you ever feel alone? You have such a close family. I mean, a real, live king loves you like a son.”
“He does not understand my experience. None of my family does. I do not fault them for that, but I can’t share it with them,” Gabriel said. “You grasp what I went through in a way that allows me to be open with you. I trust you. I hope you can trust me too.”
There was almost a plea in his voice at the end. Guilt sat on her like an evil troll. Gabriel was asking her to stop evading his questions about her past. But she couldn’t do it yet, couldn’t bear to see the disgust in his eyes when he learned the truth…or what she could tell him of it.
“Of course I trust you,” she said. “You wouldn’t be in my bed if I didn’t.” She trusted him as a man but not as a duke. It was a shame that the two came in one package.
He looked as though he was going to push harder on the issue but changed his mind. Instead, he bent to whisper in her ear, “I must dedicate myself to deserving that trust.” His fingers feathered down from her hip to slide between her legs, and for another hour, she forgot that he was a duke.
As they lay tangled with each other on the bed afterward, Gabriel’s stomach grumbled loudly. “Now I’m ready for breakfast,” he said.
“I’ll fix us some eggs,” Quinn said, hoping there were enough in her refrigerator.
“I meant go out to eat. There’s a place near here that makes the best tostadas with olive oil, tomato, and Iberian ham. And the churros are dipped in hot chocolate.” Gabriel’s stomach complained again.
“You’re talking yourself into being hungry,” Quinn said, throwing back the covers and scrambling off the bed. “I can make tostadas here.”
She rummaged around in her dresser and pulled on an oversized gray T-shirt and a pair of white lace panties.
Gabriel levered himself up on his elbow to watch appreciatively. Once she added a pair of jeans, he rolled to the side of the bed and stood in all his glorious nakedness. His muscles flexed and shifted as he stretched before he cupped his hands around her shoulders and smiled. “No need to cook for me when there are trained professionals two blocks away.”
Quinn shrugged out of his grasp. “The truth is that it’s not smart for us to be seen together in public.”
“Mierda! Then it is dangerous for you to be involved with my case.” Guilt flickered in his gray eyes.
“No, not dangerous, but I need to keep a low profile.” She pictured Dupont’s flat, ugly gaze in Lisbon and felt a shiver of unease. Maybe Mikel wasn’t being paranoid when he’d insisted that she learn to use the Glock. “You’re a celebrity who receives a lot of media attention. It could compromise my ability to carry out the investigation if it looks like we’re in a relationship.”
“We are in a relationship,” he said with a flare of impatience.
“I don’t think two nights of admittedly great sex constitute a relationship.” Quinn waved her hand again. “That isn’t important. Being seen with you will put me in the spotlight, and I shouldn’t be there when I’m trying to track down your kidnappers.”
If they got wind of her existence, the media would want to know all about the Duke of Bencalor’s new girlfriend. They would find the sordid truth she’d fled to Caleva to escape…and maybe even what she had sacrificed her future to protect.
“That’s why you parked the Spano around the corner,” he said, looking thoughtful. “Do you swear this has nothing to do with that nonsense about me being a Calevan duke and you being an American commoner?”
“That’s not insignificant, but it’s secondary to keeping my anonymity in order to pursue the investigation.” She turned toward the bedroom door. “Let me get some coffee going.”
He caught her wrist and pulled her back around to face him. “Wait! I want you to know something.” He used his free hand to tilt her chin up so he could look her directly in the eye. “This is more than just sex for me. I want to believe it is more than that for you too. Am I wrong?”
“Wow! You ask the hard questions,” Quinn said to stall. She should lie to him and end it right here and now. All she had to do was say that she was in it for the sex. But everything about him—all that damned tradition and honor and courage—demanded truth. So did her stupid, misguided heart. “No,” she whispered. “You’re not wrong, but it’s a bad idea.”
