“That’s precisely what I like about you, Celia.” Robert grinned. “That feistiness is one of your better qualities.”

“Open the door, Robert,” she demanded again, fists clenching into little balls. To think she enjoyed kissing this man before Gabriel laid claim to her. He seemed silly and inconsequential compared to the man she would soon marry. And his inability to appreciate the danger of this situation confirmed her suspicion that he was quite possibly simple-minded as well.

“You have no idea what is best for you, Celia. Your infatuation with that man has clouded your judgment and I—”

A thunderous roar sounded from the other side of the locked door. Celia winced, her heart pounding with recognition and a shiver of fear.

“Celia. Unlock this door at once.”

It was Gabriel. The unmistakable fury in his voice made her somewhat nauseous.

“I cannot, Lord Rosenthorne. The way is blocked,” she shakily replied. To Robert, she hissed, “Now, see what you’ve done? Move away from the door before you are struck with—”

Before she could complete the warning, the door splintered apart, flying open and sending shards of wood sailing through the air. Celia wasn’t sure if Gabriel kicked it open with his booted foot or simply pounded one of his massive shoulders into it, but the door now hung crooked on its hinges, the wood shredded and in pieces.

A chunk of the wood had struck Robert’s arm, ripping a hole in his coat and leaving a bloody gash above his elbow. He stared stupidly at the wound and turned to see Gabriel coming through the mangled door.

“Look what you’ve done, you beastly bastard,” the younger lord accused while picking a shard of wood out of his hair. “You’ve ruined a perfectly fine suit coat and…”

The words trailed off as Gabriel strode quickly toward him. A huge hand clasped around Robert’s throat, strangling anything else he might have said.

Celia stared at her fiancé. A roiling thunderstorm of anger, possessiveness, and blood lust surrounded him as he held Robert aloft until the man’s toes barely grazed the floor.

“You fucking dared touch what is mine, Harvey?” Gabriel’s melodic voice came out in a low, guttural snarl. Then, as if she were an afterthought, he directed his next question at Celia. “Are you harmed, Celia? Did he hurt you in any way? Because if he did, I will kill him right here. This very second. And I will enjoy making him suffer.”

Gabriel obviously tightened his grip on Robert’s throat because the man began wheezing in the most horrible way. Celia shook herself from her stupor. If she didn’t do something, it was possible Lord Robert Harvey might die right before her eyes.

Rushing forward, she clutched Gabriel’s bicep. It was like grabbing a hunk of solid iron.

“I am unharmed. Please, Gabriel. Please let him go. You are choking him.”

Gabriel’s gaze swung to her, fixing on Celia’s concerned features with blazing intensity. “I warned you this would happen.”