Gabriel Knight: The Beast Within by Jane Jensen

Author:Jane Jensen
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 5

Munich

When Gabriel awoke it took him several seconds to remember where the hell he was. He was lying on red satin sheets and the room around his bed was wallpapered in a deep burgundy fleur-de-lis print. This was definitely not the Huber farm.

Ah! Last night.

He'd decided to go to von Glower's. Though he was a little nervous after what had happened at the club, he was even less interested in staying at the farm alone—particularly after that nasty feeling he'd had in the yard.

But von Glower was neither angry nor suspicious of him. They'd sat on the couch telling stories and drinking wine for several hours. Friedrich really had traveled all over the world, and he had some great stories to tell. And then the girl had shown up.

Gabriel couldn't even remember her name. He'd been about two and a half sheets gone when she'd arrived, and all he could remember was a tight red gown over an incredible body and shining gold hair.

She was on her way home from the opera, she'd said, or at least he thought he'd recognized the word opera in her German, though it was pronounced a little more like "Oprah." And then she was in Friedrich's lap and her lips locked with his and . . . * * *

Gabriel stood up from the couch, feeling awkward. "I'd better get goin'."

Friedrich pushed the girl back gently. "You don't have to go."

"Nah, I should go."

"Wait."

His host whispered something in the girl's ear. She looked at

Gabriel—a playful, appraising gleam in her eye—and nodded. She climbed off Friedrich's lap, grabbed Gabriel's hand, and pulled him back down into the sofa. Soft limbs and hands pushing him back—soft lips, warm tongue.

Gabriel felt his body move from zero to fifty in about two seconds flat. It had been a long stay in Rittersberg.

"I can't," he said when she finally released his lips. His voice held little conviction. The girl ignored him, nuzzling his neck.

"Why not? I didn't expect her tonight, and for some reason I don't find myself in that mood."

At Gabriel's expression, Friedrich smiled. "Don't worry, she doesn't speak English. Besides, she and I understand each other well enough."

"But . . . she's . . . she's yours."

Friedrich picked up his glass and laughed. "It's not an exclusive arrangement, I assure you. From what you've told me, you've been living like a monk down at that castle. Your body deserves some attention."

The baron smiled slowly as he leaned back. He seemed to find satisfaction in the spectacle before him and displayed not a trace of discomfort, but Gabriel felt awkward. He grabbed Detta's left hand, which was slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

"Detta, Zeige ihm sein Schlafzimmer," Friedrich said. It was amazing how commanding his voice could be, even when it was agreeably soft.

Detta stood and tugged on Gabriel's hand. He looked at Friedrich, questioning one last time. "Are you sure?"

"Enjoy your evening," Friedrich said. His eyes were warm and encouraging.

And Gabriel, who had protested as much as he could muster, went with Detta up the stairs and into oblivion.

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