Katie Rose by A Hint of Mischief Page B

We may need to follow someone.”
    The cabbie nodded, pleased with the coin she’d given him. “I will that, miss.” He helped her down to the street.
    As the cab pulled away, Jennifer sprinted across the street, then stood before the door. She supposed she could just wait and see if he came out … Idly, she glanced down the road, but it was a residential area with no restaurants or places where she could watch. The wind blew ominously, and darkness was already threatening. Her eyes fell to the doorknob. She didn’t dare … surely, he had locked it anyway. Her hand slipped out of the cloak and she gently tried the knob, fully prepared to dodge the other way if he appeared. Unbelievably, the door opened, and she stepped inside.
    It was beautiful. Jennifer’s breath caught in her throatas she surveyed the lovely house, and she removed her bonnet to get a better look. The foyer floor where she stood was marble, from his shop, she surmised, and glowed with emerald green and white tiles. A framed watercolor of a seascape graced the wall, as well as a gilt looking glass that must have cost a considerable sum. A china cabinet filled with expensive Delft porcelain gleamed from the end of the corridor, and elegant swags graced the curved Georgian windows. A dark hallway led from there into the parlor, and a round staircase curved enticingly toward the bed chambers upstairs.
    Jennifer paused, her heart in her throat. She could see Gabriel’s walking stick tossed carelessly on the stairs, and knew that he had gone in that direction. Did she have the audacity to follow him into his private bedroom?
    Bracing herself, Jennifer started down the hall, hushing any sound she might possibly make. This was mad, she told herself, hopelessly mad, but she’d come this far and had too much gumption to stop. She took short, quiet breaths, stepping so carefully on each tile that even the touch of her boots didn’t give her away.
    Climbing the stairs was more difficult, but she was reassured as she heard him slamming a door somewhere above. The fifth step creaked and she paused, terrified. Her foot was poised to take the next step, and she held it in midair, her heart pounding so hard it seemed it would come out of her chest. Luck was with her, however, for no one appeared, and she made her way up the rest of the stairs undisturbed.
    Gabriel walked past the hallway, completely oblivious to his intruder. Jennifer quickly ducked into an adjoining bedroom. Her eyes closed with relief when he continued past, and he entered the room exactly next to her. She could, hear the metallic clanking of his toiletries, and the soft rush of water pouring into a basin. Unable to resist, she stepped closer to the doorway and peeked inside.
    What she saw took her breath away. Gabriel had stripped to the waist and was mixing his shaving cream in a mug, then applying the soft white foam to his face. Fascinated, she watched him lean closer to the looking glass, then slowly, carefully, inch his razor across his cheek. The blade pressed against the angles of his sharply chiseled features, curving around the sensuous mouth that she remembered so well. Every muscle in his back flexed as he proceeded with his task, and his arm lifted again and again until every last inch of cream was gone.
    Jennifer swallowed hard, unable to explain her own reaction. Although she’d never watched a man shave before, there was something about spying on him like this, and watching him pursue a strictly male occupation, that was incredibly exciting. Her eyes roamed over his bare back, and she wanted to touch those lean, dangerous muscles, feel their play beneath her fingers. Hot, unbidden thoughts rose within her, and she had to lean back inside the doorway, fanning herself in the still room.
    The movement cost her, however. Gabriel paused, instantly alert. He pulled on his shirt, then called out into the house.
    “Benton, is that you?”
    “Sir?”
    Jennifer swallowed her surprise