Free Yours Until Dawn by Teresa Medeiros Page A

scarred face had settled into the saturnine lines of a despot prince accustomed to having his every whim satisfied. “I was just wondering where you’d gone off to,” he said, his accusing tone even more sulky than usual.
    “I was sunning myself on the beach at Brighton,” she replied. “I didn’t think you’d miss me.”
    “Has there been any word from my father or his physicians yet?”
    “Not since I checked ten minutes ago.”
    His mouth tightened, silently reproaching her. They’d both been in an evil temper all day. Despite having enjoyed a full night’s sleep, Samantha was still haunted by that elusive fragment of a dream and the possibility that he might have felt her foolish caress. What if he thought her some pathetic, dried-up old maid, starving for a man’s touch?
    Desperate to reestablish some semblance of propriety between them, she said stiffly, “I’ve been in your dressing room for half the day, my lord, sorting your cravats by fabric and length just as you ordered me to do. Surely there’s no task so urgent as to take precedence over that.”
    “It’s very hot in here.” Gabriel pressed the back of his hand to his brow. “I think I might be taking a fever.” He tossed back the blankets, revealing a shameless length of well-muscled thigh. Samantha could only be grateful he’d donned a pair of breeches that morning—even if they did only cover him to the knee.
    Without realizing it, she dabbed at her flushed throat with one of his cravats. “The day is unseasonably warm. Perhaps if I open the windows…”
    She was halfway across the room when he snapped, “Don’t bother. You know the scent of lilac will only tickle my nose and make me sneeze.” Collapsing against the pillows, he lifted his hand in a desultory wave. “Perhaps you could just fan me for a while.”
    Samantha’s jaw dropped. “Shall I pop some fresh grapes into your mouth as well?”
    “If you’d like.” He reached for the bell. “Shall I ring for some?”
    Samantha gritted her teeth. “Why don’t you try some nice cool water instead? You’ve a little left over from your luncheon.”
    After tossing the cravats over the top of the cheval glass perched in the corner, Samantha poured a goblet of water from the pitcher resting on the pier table. The thick earthenware had been designed to keep the fresh springwater cool. As she approached the bed, she couldn’t quite shake the sensation that if Gabriel weren’t blind, he would be eyeing her as suspiciously as she was eyeing him.
    “Here you go,” she said, pressing the goblet into his hand.
    He refused to close his fingers around it. “Why don’t you do the honors? I do believe I’m too weary.” He sighed. “I didn’t sleep particularly well last night. I kept dreaming there was a baby bear growling in the next room. It was most distressing.”
    He leaned back among the pillows, parting his lips like a fledgling awaiting a feeding from its mother. Samantha stared down at him for a long, silent moment, then upended the goblet. The chill stream of water caught Gabriel full in the face. He shot to a sitting position, sputtering and cursing.
    “Damnation, woman! What are you trying to do—drown me?”
    Samantha backed away from the bed, slamming the goblet back down on the edge of the table. “Drowning is too good for the likes of you. You know very well it wasn’t a baby bear sleeping in the next room last night. It was me! And how dare you take such scandalous liberties with my person!”
    Gabriel blinked the water from his lashes, looking both outraged and perplexed. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.”
    “You removed my spectacles!”
    A disbelieving snort of laughter escaped him. “The way you’re taking on, you’d have thought I removed your clothing!”
    Samantha clutched at the high-necked bodice of her homely bottle-green day dress. “How do I know you didn’t?”
    Silence hung between them, thicker than the