Beneath the layers of her nightrail and robe, Celia’s breasts tingled. It seemed possible her nipples were actually catching fire, if the intense sensations were any indication. Taking a deep, shuddering breath sent her bosom sliding against his skin in a sensuous caress.

Celia abruptly froze in place.

Gabriel bit out a muttered curse.

Heavens, was it possible she might swoon? She’d never done so before in her entire life, but a strange feeling of weightlessness was overtaking her. Staring at Gabriel’s firm mouth, in particular the surprising Cupid’s bow shape of his upper lip, she dreamily wondered what he might taste of. Brandy? Or something equally dangerous?

“Prove it. Show me how unafraid you are. Kiss me, Lady Celia, and make me believe it.”

The challenge and the taunting manner in which Gabriel issued it sent a ripple of defiant anger through the fog Celia floated in. She took another breath, this one a cleansing inhalation that cleared away the cobwebs.

He believed she was afraid of him? That he could lecture her and dictate whom she kissed and where she kissed them? Oh! She did not care what this arrogant beast thought. She did not care he correctly guessed Robert’s intentions tonight, saving her from certain ruin a second time. Most of all, Celia did not care that deep down inside, in a place where she hid her true feelings from the world, she knew Gabriel Rose was absolutely right about her.

About everything.

Furious with herself and her own reaction to his softly spoken command, she looped her arms around his neck.

“Such bravery,” Gabriel murmured.

The mocking statement ignited a fiery need to wipe his smugness away. Celia’s lips tightened. She would teach the man a much-needed lesson. She would kiss him and leave him floundering in her wake as she’d done so many others before him.

Just before her mouth touched his, she saw a faint, glittering spark of satisfaction in his tawny gaze. It flitted through her consciousness how very dangerous this behavior was. Perhaps she should reconsider the impetuousness of her actions.

And then it was too late.

Gabriel immediately took control, one hand clamping on the nape of her neck. Holding her at the precise angle he preferred, he kissed Celia.

It was more than a kiss. It was a ravaging. A claiming. A declaration of mastery and possession. Gabriel’s tongue battled hers and claimed victory. The kiss deepened. Swirling, dancing, and collecting all resistance. Coaxing her into a state of such wildness, Celia barely comprehended his other hand, still riding low on her back, pushing her pelvis against his own.

The force he exerted, the pressure of their hips grinding in unison, sent shocking waves of pleasure singing through Celia’s veins. She melted into him, too caught up in the mystery of sensations to question why it felt amazing and… different. He held her so tightly, kissed her so unapologetically that Celia did not possess the willpower to demand that he release her.