Free When Love Is Enough by Laura Landon

searching for the small brown bottle she remembered. "Where is it?"
    "I’ve had it...removed."
    "Why?"
    The corners of his mouth lifted as he attempted to smile through the pain. "You’ve obviously never been under the opiate’s influence or you’d...know. It’s not something...I could afford to continue to take...any longer."
    "Then what do you take for the pain?"
    "You have it in your hand."
    Lydia poured a generous amount into the glass and handed it to him. He reached for the liquor with one hand but continued to rub his thigh with the other. His hand trembled.
    "Here, let me." She held the glass to his lips.
    He took two swallows then pushed the glass away.
    "Enough, or I’ll be in my cups before lunch."
    She tried to smile but couldn’t. He was in pain. Heavy beads of perspiration formed on his forehead and taut lines creased either side of his mouth.
    An agonizing knot pinched the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t bear to see him in such agony. The torture she saw on his face was unbearable. She dropped to her knees in front of him and massaged his thigh.
    For several long minutes they both worked his muscles. Her hand burned from the contact. She knew touching him would be her undoing. It was.
    His gasping breaths battled with hers, his nostrils flared as he fought the pain.
    She worked as furiously as she could, pressing, rubbing, grinding, kneading. From his knee to high on his thigh she ministered to erase the grimacing pain on his face.
    Her body flamed from a heat that was part exertion, part desire. She recognized the difference and fought to keep the two in balance. She lost the battle.
    With rigid determination, she leaned into him and pressed harder. His hands pressed atop hers. A wave of heat more intense engulfed every inch of her body, spiraling from where his hands connected to hers, to the pit of her stomach – then lower.
    In unison they circled the knotted muscles until the hardness eased. In unison they rode the waves of turmoil that ended when Gabriel sank back against the cushioned chair and dropped his hands to his side.
    He slowly held out one trembling hand as a signal.
    "Do you want me to stop?" she asked, lifting her gaze to look at him.
    "I think you should never have started," Harrison’s harsh-sounding voice said from behind them.
    Lydia looked over her shoulder to see her brother, Harrison, standing in the doorway - with the Duke of Chisolmwood.
    ___
    Gabriel moved his gaze from the woman kneeling at his feet. He knew if he looked at Harrison he’d see anger at finding his sister here. But he wasn’t interested in Harrison’s reaction. He focused his gaze instead on the bastard who’d ruined his life a year ago, a man he’d hoped never to see again.
    The two faced each other, the duke as pompous and arrogant as he’d been the day he’d taken away everything that was important to him. Except this time was worse. This time he wasn’t even able to rise to his feet to face him at an equal level.
    "Lady Lydia," Chisolmwood said, turning his attention to where Lydia stood, still close to Gabriel’s chair.
    Gabriel took satisfaction in Liddy’s reaction. She faced Chisolmwood with her head held high and not a hint of embarrassment or guilt on her face.
    "Good day, Your Grace. What a pleasant surprise."
    "Is it?" the duke answered with condescending politeness.
    "Of course. I wasn’t expecting callers."
    "That much is obvious. You can imagine my surprise at finding you here alone in the major’s room."
    Gabriel gripped the arms of the chair. He was prepared to come to Lydia’s defense but stopped when he saw her back straighten and her shoulders lift.
    "I’m hardly alone," she said, nodding to where Hannah now stood beside her chair. "My maid has been with me the entire time."
    "I hardly consider servants proper chaperones." Chisolmwood stepped into the room, his pace slow and menacing. "And neither will most of Society." He locked his hands behind his back. "The last thing I