He smiled ruefully. "You think not?"

"Let me put it this way. I was not certain if Neil was the victim of a misunderstanding, but I have never doubted you, Gabriel. I knew which man to trust tonight when I found myself suspended between you and Neil."

Gabriel was exultant. "What gave you the clue?"

Phoebe brushed her lips lightly against his. "Neil made the mistake of playing the chivalrous, gallant knight right to the very end."

"I heard him," Gabriel muttered.

"You, on the other hand, were acting much more like a genuinely frantic husband trying to save his wife. In that moment you did not even try to charm me. You were far too desperate to think of such a ruse."

Gabriel eyed her with a disgruntled expression. "I suppose that is true enough."

Phoebe laughed softly and reached up to frame his face between her soft hands. "I believe, my lord, that in all the ways that truly count, we do trust each other."

At the sight of the tender warmth in her eyes, an aching hunger seized Gabriel. "Yes. God, yes, Phoebe."

With a low exclamation he scooped her up and carried her over to the bed. The crimson skirts of her tawdry gown billowed around his boots as he covered her body with his own.

Phoebe's eyes were brilliant as she looked up at him through her lashes. Gabriel thought he would drown in that gaze. He kissed her with a desperate passion. His tongue surged into her mouth in an act of possession that presaged the even more intimate one that would soon follow.

"I will never be able to get enough of you," he whispered thickly. He lowered his head to taste one rosy nipple that had been revealed by a shifting black lace flower.

Phoebe arched herself against him with a sensual generosity that seared Gabriel's already inflamed senses. He tugged the bright crimson gown down to her waist so that he could savor the sight and feel of her breasts. Phoebe opened his shirt and twisted her fingers gently in the hair on his chest.

"I love you," she said against the side of his face.

"For God's sake, don't ever stop loving me," Gabriel heard himself plead in a tortured voice he hardly recognized. "I could not bear it."

He pushed the red skirts up over her thighs so that they bunched at her waist. The cheap satinet gleamed as richly as Italian silk in the candlelight. He looked down at the soft curls that shielded her softness and closed a hand over them for a moment. She was already damp.

Phoebe shivered at his touch. He could feel the rising heat in her. He could also feel his manhood straining against his breeches. He reached down to unfasten his clothing, freeing his shaft.

"Gabriel? Aren't you even going to take off your boots?"

"I cannot wait that long for you." He moved between her soft thighs and fitted himself to her. "Hold me and do not let go. Ever."

He eased himself carefully into her hot, snug passage. He felt her tighten around him as he lowered his head to recapture her mouth. Her arms wrapped him close and her legs gripped him. She gave herself up to him and Gabriel was overwhelmed by the gift.

He drove himself deeply into her as if he could somehow become a part of her.

And for that moment out of time, he was.

Phoebe stirred a long while later. She was conscious of Gabriel's strong, warm thigh lying alongside hers. His arm curved around her. She realized he was awake.

"Gabriel?"

"Ummm?"

"What are you thinking about?"

He squeezed her gently. " 'Tis nothing, sweet. Go back to sleep."

"There is not a chance of that." She sat up abruptly. The crushed satinet of her crimson gown made a rustling noise. She glanced down in horror. "Oh, no, Gabriel, look at my beautiful dress. I hope it is not ruined."

He folded his arms behind his head on the pillow and eyed the gown with amusement. "I imagine it was constructed to withstand rough treatment."

"Do you think it will be all right?" Phoebe scrambled off the bed and slipped the gown down over her hips. She stepped out of it, shook out the folds of the crumpled satinet, and studied the dress with an anxious gaze.

"I think it will survive. If it does not, I shall buy you another."

"I doubt if we shall find another one in this beautiful shade of red," Phoebe said wistfully. She spread the gown out carefully on the foot of the bed. "It's a little rumpled, but otherwise intact."

Gabriel's gaze slipped over her body, which was clad only in her thin chemise. "Do not concern yourself about the dress, Phoebe."

She straightened and glanced at him, her eyes searching his face. "What were you thinking about, Gabriel?"

"It isn't important. Come back to bed."

She sat down on the edge of the bed instead. "Tell me. Now that we have declared our trust in each other, we must tell each other everything,"

Gabriel winced. "Everything?"

"Absolutely."

He smiled. "Very well. I suppose you will find out sooner or later, anyway. I was thinking about the best way of setting a trap for Baxter."

Phoebe stilled. "The way you did the last time?"

"Not quite." Gabriel's mouth hardened and his eyes went cold. "This time he will not escape."

A tiny shiver went through Phoebe. "How will you do it?"

"He does not know we have discovered the necklace inside The Lady in the Tower" Gabriel said slowly. "I have no doubt but that he will make another try to get his hands on the book. I am thinking of making it easy for him."

"You intend to capture him when he makes his next try?"

"Yes."

"I see. How do you plan to lure him into this trap?"

"That's the difficulty."

Phoebe brightened as a thought struck her. "I know how we could lure him into this trap of yours."

Gabriel cocked a brow. "Yes?"

"Use me as bait." Phoebe smiled triumphantly.

Gabriel stared at her. "Have you gone mad? That is absolutely out of the question."

"But it would work, Gabriel. I know it would."

He sat up, swung his booted feet to the floor, and stood. Hands on his hips, his shirt hanging open, he leaned over her with an expression as forbidding as midnight. "I said," he repeated evenly, "that using you as bait is absolutely out of the question. I meant it."

"But Gabriel—"

"I do not want to hear another word on the subject."

She glared up at him. "Really, Gabriel. That is going a bit too far. It was only a suggestion."

"A damned ridiculous suggestion. Don't even think of mentioning it again." He walked over to the table and stood gazing down at The Lady in the Tower. "I need to find a way to make Baxter believe the book is vulnerable."

Phoebe considered that. "You could arrange for it to be sold."

"What did you say?"

"If Neil thought we had sold the book, he might try for it when it was transferred to its new owner. It would be vulnerable then."

Gabriel's smile was slow and wicked. "My dearest wife, allow me to tell you that you would have done very well hunting pirates in the South Seas. That is a truly brilliant notion."

Phoebe was filled with an elated warmth. "Thank you, my lord."

Gabriel began to pace the room, his face intent. "I suppose we could arrange to sell the book to our old friend Nash. His insistence on doing business in the middle of the night might be extremely useful. If Baxter thought the book was being taken by carriage along a lonely country lane at midnight to be delivered to an eccentric collector, he might try his hand at a little road piracy."

"You mean he might try to waylay the carriage?"

"Precisely. We would, of course, be ready for him."

"Yes, indeed." Phoebe was filled with enthusiasm for the project. "I could wear men's clothing and pretend to be the agent hired to take the book to Nash. You could be disguised as the coachman. When he stopped the carriage, we would be ready for him."