Finding Gabriel (39 page)

Silence trickled by. Heart thudding against her ribs, Ariah struggled to regulate her breathing. Geoffrey responded with another smirk that sent chills crawling up and down her spine.

“Don’t you know, monsieur? Ari here came from the gutter, just like myself.”

Emmaline squirmed in his hold. Tears ran down her pale cheeks as she pleaded to be freed.

“Ah, yes.” The next words were directed at Emmaline. He tugged on her hair, arched her slim neck backward, and whispered in a menacing voice: “We were quite the pair, your mother and I. Cut from the same cheap fabric.”

Ariah’s throat plummeted into her chest. Trembling, she swung around Gabriel’s body and surged forward.

Gabriel followed after, only a whisper away. “Ariah. Wait. Don’t – ” Uttering a curse, he charged around her body again – now meters away from Geoffrey and Emmaline.

Geoffrey stumbled backward until he was dangerously close to the rooftop’s edge. One of his hands freed Emmaline’s hair. In a swift movement, he retrieved the dagger from his belt and aligned it to Emmaline’s throat. “Not another move from either of you.” His hand shook, and tears glistened in his wild, bloodshot eyes. A potent blend of revulsion, fear, and the slightest bit of empathy swept through Ariah. From head to toe, her body trembled like tin cymbals. She peered into Geoffrey’s eyes and sought whatever remained of his tattered soul.

“Geoffrey! Please! If you ever held any love for me – if you care for me, as you claim you do – I beg you – find it in your heart to let her go. I’m the one who betrayed you! I left you alone in the world! Emmaline is an innocent, sweet little girl. She doesn’t deserve this. I do.”

Geoffrey’s hand fiercely shook, vibrating against Emmaline’s slender throat. Ariah felt Gabriel tense beside her … felt as he edged forward, moving with the grace of a panther. His marred features twisted with sheer rage, appearing truly frightening. Then a sharp gust of wind billowed his greatcoat and transformed the material into a pair of colossal wings.

Geoffrey stammered and wiped his brow with the back of his knuckles. “I said keep away.” Ariah’s skin crawled as Geoffrey locked eyes with her. “Keep your fuckin’ guard dog restrained, or by God, I will gut our daughter like a fish.”

Tears burned Ariah’s cheeks as they flowed down her skin. She had loved this man once. She had trusted him with every fiber of her being. But she’d been blinded. The hole in her heart that’d been left by Geoffrey all those years ago expanded, consuming her very soul. Gripping onto Jacques’s ring, her entire body quaked with choked sobs.

“Geoffrey, please! What do you want from me? Just tell me, and I swear, it shall be yours! You want us to be together again? Then I am yours – I swear it. Just let her go.”

Gabriel continued to creep forward, every movement steady and calculated.

“I want you to keep him away from me,” Geoffrey spat. “That’s what I fuckin’ want. Or I will indeed
let go
.”

She watched in horror and helplessness as Gabriel’s eyes bore into Geoffrey’s. When Gabriel at last spoke, the words seethed with pure venom.

“You tried to break her. You killed Jacques – one of the finest men to ever live. And now you threaten her daughter? You deserve to die just as you are now: stinking drunk, broken, and entirely, utterly alone.”

•

Gabriel’s hand slid beneath the material of his greatcoat and slid over the concealed pistol lurking within. It was Napoleon’s pistol – cocked, primed, and loaded. His consciousness was momentarily suspended as he reflected on his conversation with the emperor.

And yet I have never known you to miss a shot.

Gabriel grasped the stock, allowing the words to fuel his mind and body. Ariah stood beside him, desperately pleading with Geoffrey. But Gabriel knew that he was already far gone from reach. He was a pitiful, suffering mongrel – and there was only one thing left to be done. A strange sense of betrayal speared through Gabriel. The stranger from the café … the broken soul who’d inspired him to chase his destiny was Geoffrey Lucier.

Emmaline cried out as the dagger nicked her neck. A drop of blood slipped down her pale skin, barely visible beneath the dim lighting.

“Maman!”

It happened in a flash – though Gabriel perceived the moment as an eternity.

Tears flowing from his eyes, Geoffrey staggered dangerously close to the edge of the rooftop. His heels hung over the ledge, and his fingers coiled in Emmaline’s curls. Ariah leapt forward as she realized his morbid intention.

“Just let go …” Geoffrey whispered, speaking more to himself.

Weightlessness descended. Gabriel and Ariah locked gazes. A shudder passed through him as his eyes dropped to her silver cross.

Time slowed to a crawl. Everything merged together in a surreal blur. The past and the future fused together as one …

Gabriel unsheathed the pistol at lightning speed, extended his arm, and aimed directly for the center of Geoffrey’s forehead. Emmaline’s blond curls transformed into ones of jet-black; her blue eyes changed to an emerald hue. Lisette stood in her place – and it was Etienne who grasped her hair, his forearms branded with countless burn marks. Gabriel fairly lost his breath as his hand quivered. He fought to steady his aim and propel those thoughts – but everything had spun full circle.

He whispered his daughter’s name, uttering each syllable with the reverence of a prayer. In spite of the cold, beads of sweat poured from his brow and blurred his vision. Memories bombarded his consciousness – him and Lisette at the Tuileries Garden, Lisette learning how to ride a horse for the first time … all those late nights, untold bedtime stories, and shattered promises –

Bang!

Dead center, the bullet embedded itself in Geoffrey’s forehead. A single line of blood flowed from the hole and divided his features into two equal halves. His hands relaxed, setting Emmaline free, as his lifeless body spiraled off the rooftop – down, down, down – into the impenetrable, gaping darkness below.

Then a high-pitched scream echoed; Emmaline collapsed in a heap of grubby skirts and pressed both palms against her ears. In the same breath, Ariah sailed forward, toppled to her knees with a sob, and engulfed Emmaline in her arms.

Gabriel hastily wiped the sweat from his brow, pocketed the firearm, and fell beside Ariah and Emmaline. Exhaling rigid breaths, he spread both arms and held them tight. And he vowed to never again let them go.

They were a family now.

“Ariah … I’d given up hope that I’d ever find anyone like you,” he whispered against her temple. “I can’t believe I ever managed to survive without you by my side. You, Ariah Larochelle, are my guiding light. With you, I shall never lose my way again."

Ariah shuddered against him while joyful tears streaked her cheeks. Forever laying claim, he seized her mouth in a searing kiss and breathed the eternal vow: “It’s us now. Today, tomorrow, always.”

Le Havre was coined the “Door to the Ocean” for great reason. Nestled within the sea’s breathtaking cliffs, it offered all the beauty of the land: iridescent French beaches, pristine waters, and inspiring sunsets. Ariah often lost herself within the vivid surroundings, dedicating hours each day to capturing Le Havre’s soul on paper. Her hand would adopt a life of its own as the blank canvas erupted into artful curves and brilliant swashes of color. She’d sold quite a few pieces and was quickly establishing herself as one of the city’s talented, up-and-coming artists.

Picturesque and brimming with tranquility, Le Havre presented an ideal and romantic atmosphere for raising a family. A flawless combination of high culture, industrialization, and seclusion transformed the port into a truly magical place.

Arms linked together, Ariah strolled the paved walkway with Miriam at her side. The British no longer plagued the open sea, and Le Havre had blossomed into one of France’s wealthiest ports over the past decade. On this morning, the docks buzzed with life, activity, and overlapping conversation as merchants saw to their loyal clientele. Traders from distant lands unloaded their wares from large wooden crates. Vendors balanced baskets atop their heads while a lively group of children played with toy tops along the water. The melodic clatter of heels and boots against the wooden docks resounded. In the distance, boats of all shapes and sizes glided across the glassy surface as they entered the Door to the Ocean.

Ariah turned her face into the warm spring breeze, and her sister’s chatter vanished into the background noise. Remnants of the early morning sun glittered across the port’s immaculate water, setting it aglow. Transfixed, Ariah stared at the spectacle as the entire world seemed to fall away. Clasping onto her parasol, she breathed a deep sigh while her consciousness faded into the memories of her childhood.

While traveling along the coast, Ariah and her father had often visited the vast beaches. He’d wander toward the water, lost in a sort of trance, playing his melancholy tunes for the waves; they would crash against the shore, and the nostalgic violinist often pretended they were applauding. Perched on a nearby rock and silent as a sentry, Ariah would observe as her father abandoned himself within his music. Then all would fall silent and still. She’d wipe away her tears as the humble concert came to a finish.

“Ariah? Why, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.” Ariah jolted back into present time and turned to her sister. Miriam’s eyes enlarged with concern. She laid a delicate hand upon Ariah’s forearm and gently squeezed; the opposite hand rested across her abdomen, where it sheltered the telling bump in an unconscious gesture. “Is something a-amiss?”

Ariah felt a smile stretch across her lips. Inhaling the warm, damp air, she mutely shook her head. “
Non.
Not at all.”

A gust of wind mussed her curls. She swept the ringlets behind each ear and clasped Miriam’s hand. Then she gazed down at their united grip – examining the wedding rings on their fingers side by side.

•

Wavering shafts of afternoon light danced across the intricate cobblestone walkways. The stones glittered beautifully, disrupted only by the moss wedged between the crevices. The cobblestones appeared to go on forever – resembling a breathtaking parquet floor of intricate design. White marble statues lined the walkways, reminding Ariah of Paris’s immaculate Tuileries Garden.

In the nearby distance, Chateau de Laurent proudly jutted against the periwinkle blue skyline, appearing regal and aristocratic. The mansion’s smooth slates of stone towered into eternity as they scraped against a blanket of low-hanging, plush clouds.

It was a balmy day, and the world whispered of fresh beginnings. Birds twittered, playfully diving in and out of the trees and bushes. Ariah wandered through the twisting hedges, each hand occupied by one of her children. Emmaline clasped onto her right, while Jacques held tightly to her left. Behind them tracked his twin brother. Five years old, Jacques’s and Manuel’s personalities were as different as day and night. They were handsome as could be, boasting their father’s stubborn chin, dark, lush waves of hair, and prominent brows that framed eyes of rich cognac. Indeed, they’d be the toast of the town. As for Emmaline … well, she grew more beautiful with each passing day.

Gabriella led the way. Her back curved into a determined arch while her twitching nose skimmed the pavement. She was no longer the puffball of six years ago; with each passing year, she’d developed into a slender, athletic creature, a boon companion, and an integral part of the de Laurent household.

At the end of the pathway, Gabriel peered from behind a hedge, a warm smile illuminating his features. Ariah felt the air gush from her lungs. He never failed to take her breath away. They briefly met gazes, and tears stung the back of her eyes. A whole conversation seemed to transpire between them – as tangible as the very air they breathed.

Then Jacques extended his pointer finger and erratically leapt up and down. Ariah jolted out of her daze and turned her attention to her son. “There he is! I see him, I see him! There’s Papa!” With a wicked, playful grin, Gabriel vanished from sight and disappeared behind the hedge.

Resounding laughter bubbled inside Ariah’s throat. Her chest vibrated from the sheer force of it. Manuel surged in front of them, Gabriella close at his heels, and took off in his father’s direction. He was named after his grandfather – and his fiery spirit showed it well. “Easy now. Watch yourself,
mon chéri
.” Emmaline released her hand and followed suit, yelling, “Oh, wait for me, wait for me!” at every step.

Jacques – much more timid and worlds less adventurous than his brother – clung hard to Ariah’s hand. “Go on, darling!” she encouraged, awarding his bottom with a gentle pat. “Go along with your brother and sister. I shall be right behind you.” He angled his chin at a defiant angle, released her hand, and took off at a determined sprint.

Overcome with love, Ariah momentarily paused. She brushed away a loose tendril as she observed her three beloved children at play. Carried by a mild breeze, the fine material of her walking dress billowed around her in the shape of a halo. She sighed to herself and leaned against one of the towering hedges. Apparently they’d abandoned chasing their father. Indeed, Gabriella had scooped an errant stick from the cobblestones – which resulted in an epic game of tug-of-war. Ariah continued to stroll forward, her eyes fixed affectionately on the scene before her.

Suddenly a wall of masculine flesh pressed against her back, emerging seemingly from nowhere. Ariah gasped as Gabriel’s strong arms engulfed her waist. One hand slid up the length of her side in leisurely perusal. She shuddered in anticipation and melted into his solid arms.

His fingers surged with strength as they traced over her ribs one by one … they glided up and over the curve of her shoulder before tangling in her elegant coiffure. Her heart pounded at full force. Her chest rapidly rose and fell beneath the weight of his hand. Sweeping away her curls, the uneven flesh of Gabriel’s lips ghosted across her nape. Ariah’s knees grew heavy with each tentative ministration. Her head lolled backward against the security of his chest. She inhaled his unique scent and allowed it to flood her spirit. His fingers continued to sift through her coiffure, removing the pins one by one. He whispered into her ear, and her spine tingled from the pressure of his voice. How she loved the guttural, sultry rumble of his vocals … a voice so strong, so commanding, and so arousing it could send her to climax without any assistance from his hands or mouth. The sounds of their children at play swirled all around. In spite of herself, Ariah felt tears prick her eyes again. Never parting from his embrace, she rotated her body full circle. His gaze deepened at the appearance of her tears. Then a small smile creased his lips.

“Is the sight of me really so abhorrent?” A teasing note laced the words, though Ariah heard the uncertainty in his tone. Years had passed, yet he’d never fully recovered from his scars – both the external and internal. She returned his smile and wiped at her damp cheeks. Then she cupped his face and smoothed her thumbs over his skin. One side was smooth and taut – the other marred and twisted. And yet she perceived Gabriel as perfect and whole.

She drew him into a heated kiss. His lips parted beneath the pressure of her own. Their heads simultaneously tilted to opposite sides, and he feasted on her mouth with the fervor of a starved man. She gasped as his strong, masterful hands ran over the rise of her breasts and possessively kneaded the flesh. Her nipples sprang to life while his thumb rubbed against her, teasing the bud into a firm point. In a fluid movement, he spun her body and eased her against a towering hedge. Then Emmaline’s robust laughter cut through her hazy mind, snapping her back into the moment.

“Gabriel! The children – they shall – ”

“Shh,” he whispered into her mouth. He cocked his head back and caressed the curve of her cheek with his scarred thumb. His gaze bore into hers, drugging in its power. “They are keeping themselves entertained. Allow us to do the same, hmm?”

He swallowed the last of her protests with an urgent sweep of his tongue. Both hands tangled in her curls and urged her body closer. Ariah smoothed her palms over his chest, marveling at his size and strength, brushing the elegant folds of his coat aside. His muscles contracted beneath her fingertips. Hot breaths of air passed through his lips and warmed her cheeks. She inhaled his aroma and filled her senses with sandalwood and springtime.

An enthusiastic bark jolted Ariah and Gabriel from their intimate embrace. The sound of chattering voices and approaching footfall followed after. Ariah smoothed down her rumpled skirts, glanced down at Gabriella, and scooted back from her husband several steps. Gabriel’s penetrating gaze mated with her own – and an unspoken, wicked vow filled their depths.

•

Dusk descended upon the home. Inhaling the crisp spring air, Gabriel stood on the balcony outside of his and Ariah’s bedchamber. The fresh scent of the sea was invigorating. In the distance, Le Havre’s pristine waters were clearly visible. They shimmered and rippled, alive with vivid shades of orange and red – a luminous canvas of metallic color.

Gabriel leaned against the stone banister, folded both hands atop the railing, and examined the sunset with haunting intensity. He recalled that morning’s walk along the shore with his cousins, children, Ariah, Miriam, and Marius … the majestic way in which those same waters had come to life with light and hope … and he reflected that sunrises and sunsets were not so different. What appeared at first glance to be polar opposites contained much of the same beauty.

He ran his fingers over his facial scars – something that had become a bit of a habit – and smiled to himself. The past few years with Ariah at his side had transformed his entire spirit. Wherever he looked, he found purpose, beauty, and an abundance of light.

The fragrant scents of rosewater and nectar flooded his senses. A soft, gentle pressure followed after. His wife’s slender arms wrapped around his waist, enveloping him completely.

“This is always my favorite moment of the day,” Ariah whispered into his ear. “When the world falls fast asleep, and it feels as though we are the only ones here.” Squeezing his body, she paused and surrendered to a lighthearted laugh. “Not that I don’t cherish every moment with our loved ones. But when it’s just you and I – ”

“The world seems to hold its breath.” Gabriel turned in her arms and gazed down, losing himself within the lustrous beauty of her eyes. Her hair cascaded down and over her curves, framing them with the elegance of a golden mantle. A natural flush brightened her cheeks, and her gaze was alive with unmistakable passion. Her night rail was a delicate crème color, set off with intricate lace and charming details. Small flowered swags decorated the neckline to perfection. The train flowed behind her, spilling across the balcony floor like a queen’s regal gown. Emotion pressed hard on his chest.

He latched onto her waist, unable to suppress his burning desire. Her body jolted against the banister, completely wedged between the stone railing and his abdomen. She returned his hunger tenfold and swung both arms around his neck. Their lips crashed together, sensually moving in flawless synchronization. It was an age-old song – one they’d both mastered over the past six years. He murmured low in his throat while her fingertips frantically worked at his coat buttons. Her resounding moan echoed off the stone as he undid the ties of her night rail and shoved the fabric aside.

Then Gabriel simply held his breath and drank in the immaculate vision of his wife. Her breasts were completely bare beneath the silk. Streams of moonlight lit her flesh aglow. She silently parted her lips, which were bruised a blood red from his kisses. His heart thudded against his rib cage, its rhythm strong and sure. She resembled an angel.

Gabriel incoherently muttered words of appreciation, wrapped both arms around the curve of her bottom, and elevated her body against the banister. The night air tightened her breasts into two firm peaks. In a decadent swoop, he caught a pebbled nipple between his lips and suckled. An invigorating chain of moans and muffled sighs fell from her lips. His erection grew to painful proportions, swelling behind the confines of his trousers. Her fingertips wound in the waves of his hair and applied pressure to his scalp. She held him in place as he drew her nipple into the cavern of his mouth, wordlessly begging for more.

Gabriel lifted her up and carried her beneath the archway into their chamber. His lips never left her skin. They tracked across her neck, gently tracing the fine cartilage. She tasted like nectar from the honeycomb … achingly sweet.

Moonlight trickled through the balcony’s double doors and illuminated their bedchamber with long, wavering shafts. The room was very dark, save for the moonlight, but Gabriel navigated the large space with ease.

He laid Ariah across the mattress as he felt a smile stretch the right side of his mouth. She reached for him and traced her fingertips over his disfigurement, not leaving a portion of him untouched. Then she leaned forward and twisted the oil lamp’s knob. The illumination mingled with the moonlight and chased away the shadows.