A slight frown lined her brow. "I don't understand."
"It's quite simple. I'll stay, but only if you promise to do whatever I ask, without question, no matter how odd it might seem at the time."
"I promise."
"Then you must dismiss your maid from your employ."
"Babette?"
Gabriel nodded.
"Very well, but why?"
"Without question, cara, remember? Now," he said quietly, "put on your gown. It's late, and you need your rest."
"But..." Sara bit off the word. She would do whatever he asked, without question, just as she had promised. But not asking questions was far harder than she had anticipated.
"It's not too late to change your mind," Gabriel remarked.
Sara shook her head, and he turned away to don his own clothing. He heard the soft rustling of her gown as she slipped it on.
Only then did he turn to face her. "You're so young, Sara. I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't..."
He held up his hand, silencing her. "It's late. I want you to go to bed. I'll see you tomorrow night, at the theater."
"All right."
"Good night, cara. Sleep well."
"Good night, my angel. Will you dream of me?"
"As always," he replied, bending to kiss her cheek. "As always."
PART One Chapter Thirteen
He was waiting for her outside the theater the following night. Clad in evening clothes and a black cloak, he was quite the handsomest man she had ever seen, Sara thought. And he was waiting for her.
Cheeks flushed with anticipation, she ran to him, not caring who saw, or what anyone thought.
Gabriel crushed her close, as if he had been waiting his whole life for this moment, and then he placed her hand on his arm and led her away from the opera house.
"Your face looks ever so much better," Sara remarked, astonished at the miraculous improvement in his appearance. His skin, which had been badly discolored and puckered only the night before, showed little trace of the earlier damage.
"The burns were mostly superficial," Gabriel explained with a shrug.
"But..."
"We're here," he said, and guided her into a small restaurant that was dark and cozy. He asked for a table in the rear, away from the crowd, and smoothly steered their conversation to the night's performance.
Sara ordered something to eat, but Gabriel only asked for a glass of dry red wine.
"Don't you ever eat?" Sara asked.
"I dined earlier."
Sara studied him thoughtfully, then shrugged, too excited by his presence to fret over such a small thing.
Sara had finished eating, and they were discussing the company's upcoming production of Swan Lake when Maurice appeared at the table.
Sara looked up, startled. "Maurice, what are you doing here?"
"I wanted to meet your mysterious benefactor."
"Oh." She glanced at Gabriel. "Maurice, this is Gabriel..." She hesitated, realizing she didn't know Gabriel's last name. "Gabriel, this is Maurice Delacroix, a member of the company."
"Will you join us?" Gabriel asked.
"I'm sure Maurice has other plans," Sara said, pinning Maurice with a look that clearly said "go away."
"Not at all," Maurice replied. He slid into the booth beside Sara.
Gabriel ordered a glass of wine for Maurice and another for himself.
There was a moment of awkward silence as Gabriel stared at the younger man. Uncomfortable under Gabriel's probing gaze, Maurice quickly drained his glass.
"Sara tells me you've been most generous in your support," Maurice remarked. "Do you sponsor many dancers?"
"Just one."
"I see. Sara has told me very little about you. Have you always had a fondness for the ballet?"
"Yes," Gabriel replied, a small smile hovering at the corners of his mouth. "Always."
"How long will you be in Paris?"
"I'm not sure." Gabriel let his gaze move over Sara in a long, slow glance that could only be interpreted as possessive. "I've not been to Paris for many years. It's a beautiful city, don't you agree?"
Maurice glared at Gabriel, all too aware that the man wasn't talking about the city at all. "You seem a man of the world," he said, his voice harsh. "No doubt even a city as lovely as Paris will soon lose its appeal."
"Perhaps."
"I've asked Sara to marry me."
"It was my understanding she had refused your suit."
"For the moment, but I hope to change her mind. Perhaps she would be more willing to say yes if she knew she had your blessing."
Gabriel laughed softly. His blessing, indeed. "Sara doesn't need my permission to wed. I've already told her I will support whatever decision she makes."
Abruptly, Sara rose to her feet. "I'm tired of being discussed as if I weren't here," she declared. "I'm going home."