Phoebe laughed in delight and her eyes gleamed gold behind her golden mask. The glittering threads in her net twinkled in the light of the chandeliers. Gabriel looked down at her and wondered for an instant if he was holding a real woman or a sorceress.

He feared he was half bewitched. Desire pulsed in his veins. Instinctively he tightened his grasp on Phoebe. Most definitely she could not marry Kilbourne.

"My lord?" She tilted her head slightly, studying his masked face. "Is something wrong?"

"Let's go out into the gardens and get some fresh air," Gabriel muttered.

Phoebe did not resist as he swept her to a halt near the French windows. She lost her balance as he drew her out into the night.

"Not so fast, my lord." She grasped his arm to steady herself.

"I have you," he said quietly. He pulled her closer against his side. And I am going to keep you. he added silently. At least until I have finished my business with your family.

"The Brantley gardens are quite magnificent," Phoebe said conversationally as they walked along a graveled path. "Have you ever seen them?"

"No." Gabriel took a deep breath of the cool night air. He tried to quell the sensual need that was making his insides clench.

"They are quite extensive. There is an orangery and a maze and a pond with fish in it." Phoebe peered into the shadows. "One cannot see much at night, of course, but I have visited during the day and I was most impressed."

"Phoebe?"

"Yes, my lord?"

"I am not in the mood to discuss gardens."

"I knew it," Phoebe said with cheerful enthusiasm. "You have brought me out here to discuss your investigations, have you not? Tell me, sir, what have you learned? Are we any closer to our goal?"

"That depends on your point of view." Gabriel tugged her away from the lights of the house, deeper into the shadows of the large garden. "I think I can say with some certainty that success is probable."

"Excellent." Phoebe looked up at him. "What have you discovered? Have any of your bookshop contacts supplied you with new information? Have you learned anything in your clubs?"

"There are one or two avenues of inquiry which I intend to pursue." Gabriel realized they were out of sight of the mansion now. He slowed his pace.

Around them loomed great hedges cut into fanciful shapes. The moonlight revealed giant topiary figures in the form of mythical beasts. The graveled path wound through a night-shrouded forest of strange winged animals and snarling dragons.

"I am pleased to hear that, my lord." Phoebe hesitated, glancing around at the bizarre topiary. "This garden is truly spectacular, but it gives one chills at night, does it not?" She stepped closer to Gabriel. "During the day it is all very amusing, but in the darkness, one's imagination takes hold."

"Your imagination is more active than most," Gabriel said.

"You have no room to talk, sir. You are the one who makes a living writing imaginative books."

"Books that Kilbourne would no doubt try to prevent you from reading, were he your husband." Gabriel brought her to a halt in the deep shadows of a giant green Pegasus.

Phoebe smiled whimsically. "I have just explained that there is very little chance Kilbourne will ever become my husband. Why do you harp on the subject, my lord?"

"Damned if I know." Gabriel felt himself giving in to his hunger. The lady had followed him willingly enough out into the night. She had no sense of decorum. She was reckless and overbold and she was Clarington's daughter.

She deserved what she got.

Gabriel pulled her abruptly into his arms and kissed her.

Phoebe's soft cry of startled surprise was quickly muffled. She did not resist the embrace. Instead, she moved tentatively closer.

Gabriel felt her arms steal slowly up around his neck, and a sense of triumphant excitement washed through him. She wanted him. He cradled the nape of her neck in one hand and deliberately deepened the kiss. He bent his head to kiss her throat. She shivered in response.

"Gabriel." Phoebe's voice was infused with a womanly excitement that captivated him.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, tightening with unmistakable urgency. Gabriel felt his already swollen manhood start to throb.

"Do you like this?" Gabriel asked, his lips on the warm skin of her throat. "Tell me you like this."

"Oh, yes." Phoebe sucked in her breath as he closed his teeth carefully around her earlobe.

"Tell me how much you like it," he insisted. He was intoxicated with her response. She was trembling with it and her reaction made him shudder with his own need.

"I like it very much. I have never felt like this before, Gabriel."

He eased her deeper into the shadows of the looming hedges. His only thought now was to find as much privacy as possible. He could not wait to discover the treasures of her body.

Gabriel heard Phoebe's sharp little gasp of surprise when he lowered the sleeve of her gown. She turned her head into his shoulder, clutching at him as moonlight fell across her bared breast.

Gabriel looked down and thought he had never seen anything more lovely in his life. "Phoebe, you are perfect."

"Oh, Gabriel." She kept her face buried against his shoulder.

"Perfect." He cupped her sweet, apple-shaped breast in his hand and drew his thumb across the nipple. It budded instantly.

Gabriel bent his head and took the firm fruit into his mouth. Phoebe's reaction was immediate. She cried out softly and clung to him as if he were rescuing her from drowning.

Gabriel thought that he was the one who was drowning. He was lost in Phoebe's warmth and softness. Her scent filled his head, claiming his senses. He wanted to know the taste of her, the feel of her lying naked beside him. He ached to know what it would be like to be deep inside her. He longed to feel her shiver with release.

He had never wanted a woman the way he wanted Phoebe.

In the grip of a passion that he refused to deny, Gabriel pulled Phoebe deeper into the exotic greenery. He stopped, shrugged out of his cloak, and spread it on the grass.

Phoebe trembled, but she did not protest as he lowered her onto the cloak and came down beside her. She touched his face. His mask, like hers, concealed only his eyes. Her fingers were achingly gentle on his cheek.

"Gabriel, I think I must be dreaming."

"So am I. We will dream this dream together." He lowered his head and took her nipple gently between his teeth.

She arched herself against him, moaning softly. He stroked his hand down the length of her, reveling in the curve of her hip and thigh.

Gabriel found the hem of the turquoise and gold gown and raised it slowly. He moved his palm up the length of her leg, over her stockings, past the garter which was tied just above the knee. Then he explored farther, letting his fingers drift up the warm skin of her inner thigh. He could feel the heat of her and it nearly drove him mad.

Phoebe gave a small, muffled gasp when he closed his hand around the hot, damp place between her legs.

"Gabriel."

"Hush, love." He kissed her throat and then her breast again. "Let me touch you. You're already wet. I can feel your honey on my fingers."

"Oh, my God," she whispered. Her eyes were very wide in the moonlight and her lips were parted in wonder.

Gabriel raised his head to watch her masked face as he slowly and carefully opened the soft, plump folds that guarded her secrets. He saw her touch the tip of her tongue to the corner of her mouth. She clutched nervously at his shoulders.

When he gently eased one finger inside her, he almost lost what was left of his self-control. She was so tight. So hot. So ready for him.

Phoebe froze, her mouth open, her eyes glazed. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel knew for certain then that she had never been this intimate with a man. He felt a glorious thrill at the knowledge. Whatever Neil Baxter had meant to her, she had not allowed him to make love to her. He suddenly felt a fierce need to protect her even as he introduced her to her own passion.