‘‘No,’’ I said, almost sobbing as I pushed back from where Gabriel was peeling my clothing off. He’d gotten both the leather bodice and my shirt off without me being aware of it. I snatched up the shirt and hurriedly buttoned it, backing away from him as I did so.

‘‘What is it, sweet May—’’ he started to say.

‘‘Stop,’’ I interrupted. ‘‘Don’t call me that. Don’t ever call me that. He uses that word. It makes me feel . . . sick.’’

Gabriel watched me for a moment with eyes that seemed to see too much. I turned away, feeling soiled by the association with Magoth. What was I doing giving in to my base urges when I knew the outcome could only end in tragedy?

‘‘Which word is it that upsets you? Sweet?’’

I nodded, telling myself to stop being such a coward and face him. Slowly I turned back around, dreading the expression I knew would greet me.

To my surprise, he wasn’t even looking at me. Instead he frowned at the bottle of wine, wiping off dust with a hand towel from the bathroom. ‘‘Do you object to me calling you by your pet name?’’ he finally asked, glancing up at me with nothing in his face or eyes but interest in the question.

‘‘No, I don’t mind. Cyrene has called me Mayling for as long as I can remember.’’

He nodded. ‘‘Then I will do so as well. Will you sit and have some wine? I will move to the balcony if you do not wish for me to be near you.’’

Oh, gods, how had things come to this? I sagged down onto the edge of the bed and let myself slump into a ball of unhappiness. ‘‘I think we both know that I have no aversion to being near you. I nibbled all over you, if nothing else.’’

‘‘No,’’ he said, sitting beside me, close, but not so close that he touched me. I straightened up and looked at him. He was smiling a bit ruefully. ‘‘You did not nibble all over me, only my face. Which I enjoyed greatly, you understand. But as for all over?’’

He glanced downward. I followed the movement, swallowing hard at the sight of his delicious chest so close to me. He didn’t have a lot of chest hair, whether due to his mixed heritage or just by chance, but what there was looked as soft as silk. An intriguing little trail started below his belly button, leading down into the waistband of the pants, leaving me wanting to follow the trail with both my hands and mouth.

‘‘I have scared you. I apologize for that. I know that this must all seem overwhelming to you, and I will endeavor to move at a pace which will ensure your happiness.’’