As they wove through the towering elms, Celia’s apprehension increased. With the cloudy sky overhead, the copse of trees grew increasingly darker as they continued forward. Her apprehension increased as the dimness of the forest closed around them.

Still, they did not stop. It was almost as though Gabriel searched for something.

“How will you explain this detour to the others? You are thoroughly compromising me, Mister Rose, and I’ll not stand for it. I won’t.”

“There will be nothing to explain. We are merely taking a necessary shortcut due to the overwhelming pain you are experiencing.”

“Overwhelming,” Celia echoed the word in disbelief then scowled fiercely. “I admit to feeling discomfort, but it most certainly is not a pain I consider overwhelming.”

Gabriel stopped the horse in the midst of a small clearing, and before Celia knew what he was about, he slid to the ground. Large hands encircled her waist, and she was swung down from Arion’s back in a flurry of petticoats and skirts. He maneuvered her so her weight was borne against his wide form, her ankle protected from further injury. He practically held her aloft with just one arm, and she gripped his wide shoulders for greater stability before realizing it was unnecessary.

“Not yet, that is true.” He smiled at her, plucking the bonnet from her fingers and tossing it aside. “But you may wish to hold off on that opinion until after I’ve finished with you.”

“What are you talking about, sir?” Celia demanded, her words trailing off as it became crystal clear what the man intended.

Along the edge of the clearing, a large tree lay toppled. Bare of limbs and leaves, the trunk was the perfect spot for someone to sit. Swooping her up into his arms for the second time that afternoon, Gabriel stalked toward it and sat down.

Celia was trapped, nestled in the heat of his lap and the iron bands of his arms encompassing her. For the longest moment, Gabriel merely stared intently into her eyes as though searching for some mysterious sign. The color of his irises darkened to the color of molasses. Rich and warm. And although they were aflame with something Celia thought might be desire, there was a shimmer of gentleness in their depths as well.

She wasn’t quite sure how she knew it, but Celia was suddenly quite positive this man would never intentionally harm her.

“You know exactly what will happen here,” he finally said in a low, gravelly voice.

Celia’s pulse leapt to life with the tenor of his voice. She may have foolishly put her fear aside. He sounded… dangerous. A shiver of apprehension trickled down her spine

And arousal.

“You’ve gone mad,” Celia stuttered.

“Perhaps,” Gabriel agreed calmly. Then, with scarcely any effort on his part, he spun her.

Around, up, and over, Celia went in a dizzying series of movements.

She was now indecently sprawled across that hard, muscled lap, attempting to catch her breath and surprised by his swift action. Her toes barely touched the ground while her head hung in such a way she could only see the forest floor and Gabriel’s calves encased in tall riding boots. The black leather was shiny even in the gloomy light. She grabbed the closest one, her fingers barely making a dent in the leather although her nails dug into the material.