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around the table. "I expect that it would only be fair," she finished with a dainty hand pressed to her remarkable bosom.
    "Hmm," Drummond pondered. "What shall it be? Something intimate enough to cause you caution, I should think."
    "Yes, of course," Gabriella replied gazing at each man in turn.
    "Then let us retire to the gaming salon for cigars and perhaps a brandy to bolster our lady's courage," Harrison suggested.
    "Yes," Drummond replied, watching Gabriella's eyes widen at the suggestion that she should join gentlemen in that most sacred ritual of port, cigars, and conversation after a meal. "I for one, enjoy saving my dessert for a much later hour," Drummond added to Gabriella's blush as they all rose.

Chapter Eight
    A few moments later and only partially down the hallway in the presumed direction of the gaming salon, Gabriella found herself whisked into a narrow, darkened hallway. This one split off from the main corridor she, Drummond, and the others had been following.
    "Drummond, what is it-?" she gasped in a near squeal. Finding her back pressed into the hallway wall by the hard, lean length of Drummond's tall frame blanketing hers. Her breasts were plumped into his rib cage and he cradled her hips warmly between his thighs as his hands closed hard around her waist on each side.
    "Why is my passion pearl not affecting you, madame?" he asked with his warm lips hovering over her ear.
    "How could you possibly tell?" she appealed in a whisper directed into his shoulder, he was so close.
    "Your nipples are relaxed, madame, and this would not be the case if my pearl was placed properly."
    "Gracious," she breathed, trying to call forth the proper amount of indignation, however, succeeding only halfheartedly with the whirl of sensations she was experiencing. Gabriella found her hands placed flat on the well-toned muscles of Drummond's chest with her long crimson nails sliding downward over the shape of his abundantly formed mounds of sinew. Not in a gesture of warding him off as one would hope that she would attempt to do . . . Oh but, he felt so wonderful.
    "Do you scratch, madame?" Drummond asked warmly into her ear as his hands slid downward from her waist to clasp both sides of her bottom.
    "Oh my . . . I, ah– do not know," she whispered with a sighing gasp.
    Drummond chuckled, then his fingers spread wide clasping the cheeks of her flesh, until she could feel the long ridged outline of his manhood pressing into her lower-lowest belly.
    "I believe that you do," Drummond purred with the tip of his hot tongue tracing her earlobe making her shiver more as she clutched his broad shoulders for balance. "Like a sensuous little kitten with her claws extended. Shall I call you kitten, madame? My kitten?"
    "Oh." Gabriella puffed a breath into Drummond's ear with her lips grazing the cool ice of his ruby stud, while he rocked her against him . . . breathlessly . . . indecently along the outline of his turgid sex. The length was breathtaking and the outline seduced her with a poignant urge to rub, or-or grind back!
    "I believe that I have deduced your ploy, madame," Drummond announced as the warmth of his body, abruptly left hers. And as quick, Gabriella found herself bodily twirled around to face the wall with Drummond's hands clamped to the back of her waist. She fought the illusory need for balance with her hands pressed into the cream-colored wall.
    "Drummond, what are you doing?" she whispered with a slight frantic hissing sound, wondering when they would be spied by a passing servant or the return of one of the Archangels to discover what had become of them. "Someone shall see us," she exclaimed on a final hopeless note in what she prayed was a voice tinted with outrage, but which sounded suspiciously husky to her ears.
    "Hmm," Drummond ignored Gabriella's half-hearted protests as he bent his knee to the floor behind her flowing silk skirts. He kept her efforts to move away from him, firmly at bay with his hands now