Gabriel did not respond to that immediately. "Because you are afraid to be alone tonight?" he finally asked.

Phoebe was incensed. "Certainly not." She raised her head swiftly, colliding with Gabriel's chin in the process. She ignored his muffled groan. "How dare you imply that I would invite you to exercise your husbandly rights simply because I was afraid to stay by myself? You may leave at once, my lord."

"I don't think I can do that." Gabriel gingerly-massaged his jaw. "If I try to stand up, I shall probably collapse. I vow I am dazed from that facer you just gave me. Have you been taking lessons from Gentleman Jackson, by any chance?"

Phoebe was alarmed. She touched his jaw lightly. "Did I really hurt you?"

"I shall recover." He reached for her, bearing her back against the pillows. His smile was wicked with sensual promise as he loomed over her. "And with any luck, I shall do so in time to teach you a very important lesson."

Phoebe smiled tremulously. "What lesson would that be, my lord?"

"That a wife can enjoy exercising her rights just as much as a husband can enjoy his."

Phoebe twined her arms around his neck. "I shall pay close attention, my lord."

"Don't worry. If you do not grasp the basic concepts this time, we shall keep practicing until you do."

Gabriel took her mouth in a slow, lingering kiss that seared Phoebe's senses. She responded with complete abandon, hungry for the deep intimacy she longed to share again with Gabriel. It did not matter if he could not yet love her, she told herself. He gave her a part of himself when he took her in his arms. She could work with that, build on it until the tiny flame blossomed into love. The thought made her clutch at him.

Gabriel chuckled softly against her cheek. "Not so fast, my sweet. This time we are going to get it right."

"I do not understand. Have we not been doing it right?"

"Only bits and pieces." He eased her nightgown open, baring her breasts. "This time we shall put it all together."

Phoebe gasped as she felt his tongue touch her nipple. Instinctively she tightened her hands in his hair.

"Do you like this, Phoebe?"

"Yes."

"You must be certain to tell me precisely what you like at every point along the way."

She licked her lips as he suckled gently. A delicious tension began to build deep inside her. "This … this is very nice."

"I agree." He lifted himself slightly away from her and shrugged out of his dressing gown. His hard, muscled body gleamed in the moonlight.

Phoebe stroked his powerful shoulders, aware of a sense of joyous delight. "You are very handsome, my lord."

"No, love, I'm not. But if you are under the illusion that I am, who am I to complain?" Gabriel slid slowly down the length of her, gently easing her gown off, dropping hot kisses over her breasts and across her soft stomach. "You, however, are definitely very beautiful."

She wanted to laugh at that bit of outrageousness, but her senses were rapidly falling into complete disarray. The laughter turned into a soft sigh of desire. "I am glad you think so, Gabriel. When you kiss me, I feel very beautiful."

"Then I shall be certain to kiss you frequently." Gabriel parted her legs and settled himself between them.

Phoebe trembled when she felt his mouth on the inside of her thigh. When his lips traveled higher, she gasped.

"Gabriel, wait, what are you doing?"

"Remember, you must tell me if you like this." He dropped a kiss into the thatch of curls that shielded her secrets.

Phoebe recoiled in shock. "Gabriel, stop that." She reached down and grabbed fistfuls of his hair. "What on earth do you think you are about?"

"Don't you like this?" He touched his tongue to the sensitive little nub of flesh.

Phoebe shrieked. "Good heavens, no. Stop that at once." She yanked hard on his hair.

"Ouch. First a severe blow to my chin, and now you would tear out my hair. Making love to you is definitely a challenge, my dear."

"You said you would stop if I told you I did not enjoy something," she gasped.

"No, I did not. I said you must tell me what you like along the way."

"Well, I certainly cannot like this sort of thing. It is far too … " Phoebe broke off as she felt his tongue on the bud of delicate female flesh. Another soft cry tore through her. Unable to resist, she arched against him, seeking more of the incredible sensations. "Oh, my God, Gabriel."

"Tell me you like it, sweet." He continued the relentless assault on her most intimate secrets. He began to stroke his finger in and out of her passage as his tongue rasped her swollen flesh.

"Gabriel, stop, I cannot—"

"Tell me you like it." He sucked her gently between his teeth.

Phoebe could hardly breathe. "I cannot bear it."

"Yes, you can. You are a very adventurous woman." He inserted another ringer into her, stretching her tenderly.

Phoebe twisted beneath him as the unbearable kisses continued to devastate her. She was beyond protest now. All she could do was surrender to the flood tide of passion.

"Tell me you like this, Phoebe."

"Gabriel, I cannot … I cannot … Yes. Yes, I like it. Very much. Dear heaven, you are driving me mad." She clutched at him, this time holding him to her as she lifted herself for the hot kisses. She felt his fingers slide into her once more and then she felt the sensual tension in her lower body reach a critical point.

"Gabriel."

"Yes," he whispered. "Now. Just like that. Give yourself up to it. I'll keep you safe."

He kissed her again and Phoebe came apart into a thousand little pieces. She was hardly aware of Gabriel's triumphant groan. She felt him slide up along the length of her. She was startled at the taste of herself on his mouth as he covered her lips with his own. And then she felt his engorged shaft forge deeply into her tight, convulsing body.

Even as she adjusted to the invasion, the tiny ripples of excitement seemed to intensify. Phoebe clung to Gabriel as tightly as she had clung to the surf-lashed rock that afternoon.

She was safe.

The gray light of dawn was reflecting off the sea and pouring in through the window when Gabriel woke. He instinctively tightened his arm around Phoebe, assuring himself that she was still safely tucked against him.

She was exactly where she was supposed to be. The sweet, ripe curve of her bottom was cuddled against his hip and her small, shapely foot was lying alongside his leg. His fingers cupped her gently rounded breast.

Gabriel savored the simple, newfound pleasure of awakening in the early morning light with his wife in his arms. The unfamiliar sense of intimacy was deeply satisfying.

She was truly his at last, he thought. In the middle of the night she had given him the surrender he had been seeking. Her response had been complete and uninhibited. Except for one niggling little detail, Gabriel realized, he finally had everything he wanted.

The tiny, unimportant detail was that she had not told him she loved him. Even in the heat of her passion when she had shivered mindlessly in his arms and cried out his name, she had not said the words.

Not that it mattered, Gabriel assured himself. After all, she had confessed her love in a thousand different ways last night. He remembered how she had touched him, tentatively at first, and then with growing confidence. She had stroked him gently as she learned the shape and feel of him. He felt himself growing hard again at the memory.

"Gabriel?"

"Mmm?" He turned on his side and tugged the quilt down until her rose-tipped breasts peaked up at him.

Phoebe wriggled impatiently and yanked at the quilt. "I'm cold."

"I'll keep you warm." He kissed one soft breast and then the other.