It was madness, this desire to prod and poke at her with his knowledge of her clandestine activities. He shouldn’t give a pauper’s half-penny about her affairs, but he couldn’t help himself. Over the past year and a half, he’d discovered a disturbing fascination for hellions—this one in particular. He could not stop searching her out whenever they appeared at the same social functions. And while he was hopelessly aware of her every move, Celia danced and kissed her way through the Season and her admirers without a care of his own existence.

It was quite brutal, actually, watching her emerge from secret corners with lips flushed scarlet from stolen kisses and a man close on her heels eager for more of her affection.

Moving on the outer fringes of the same social circles, Gabriel’s position proved advantageous. He watched, but never interfered with Celia’s actions other than that one nearly disastrous occasion.

That was almost three months ago and happened during one of the last parties of the London Season. He’d seen her to safety, and she acknowledged his help with a slight lift of her chin. After aiding her, he’d blended into the background as was expected.

Yes, he stayed to the shadows, but right now, every shred of self-preservation he possessed was burning into cinders. Right now, he wanted to shake this girl in frustration for her disregard for her own safety. Gabriel realized the danger in his actions in pursuing this. Like a moth incinerated by the very flame enticing it closer, he might never recover from this encounter with Celia.

“Tonight is an excellent example of why you should refrain from such reckless behavior,” he said almost gently. He should at least make an attempt at resisting the flame sitting beside him. “You cannot comprehend the danger you repeatedly place yourself in.”

Celia’s spine straightened as she glared at him. “I shall do as I please, and when I please, sir. I do not require a lecture from someone like you on my personal business.”

Gabriel let her words sink in, telling himself he should not accept her brash challenge. However, it was her quickened breath and the failure to place some distance between their bodies that decided matters.

His grin turned lethal. “Ah, it is to be a lesson, then. One I’ll happily teach you.”

CHAPTER 6

Before Celia could interpret his statement, Gabriel’s arms swept around her. She was crushed against a wall of muscle. Surprise stole her breath. She did not even think of fighting his embrace.

He smiled, a lion’s smile that hid his true thoughts. It sent a shiver coursing through Celia’s veins.

“I hope you learn it well.”

“And what is it I am supposed to learn?” Celia asked through clenched teeth. How could he be so devilishly handsome with that dark stubble shadowing his jaw? A gentleman should be either clean-shaven or sport a well-maintained beard. It was unseemly to appear as though one had abandoned the effort of grooming halfway through their toilette.