The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart By Eva Gale Romance Novel Free

The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart By Eva Gale Romance Novel Free

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Download and read online best romance English novel The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart By Eva Gale. It was published in a book form. Download This Romantic love story free from below download links.

Eva Gale’s Romantic English Novel The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart

Portia Stewart loves her husband while most couples virtually tolerate each other and he or she’ll do whatever to make her marriage intimate.

A evaluate with the aid of Moriah Jovan- “the seduction of Gabriel Stewart” became awesome and part of what i need to study, as both a spiritual and sexual lady: a easy meld of the erotic and the faithful.

Some Plot from the story The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart

Portia Stewart closed her lace parasol with a snap and turned to watch the throng of people shove their way into the shade of The Egyptian Theater building. Perspiration pooled at the base of her back, soaking into her chemise as she waited for her husband, Gabriel, to return with the tickets.

People shouted, pushing their way in. What were they clamoring about? It would be hotter in the building than in the ninety-degree sun. Despite the heat, the crowd was enticing, it was gathered for a reason, and she was about to find out.

Gabriel elbowed his way to her and cupping her elbow, handed the tickets over and propelled her to the stage where a straw hut and enormous clay urns stood to the side.

The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart By Eva Gale Romance Novel Free
The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart By Eva Gale Romance Novel Free

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Book Name : The Seduction of Gabriel Stewart

Author : Eva Gale

Formats : Epub, Pdf, Mobi, Txt

Language : English

Price : Free

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Chapter 1

Chicago Worlds Fair, 1893

Portia Stewart closed her lace parasol with a snap and turned to watch the throng of people shove their way into the shade of The Egyptian Theater building. Perspiration pooled at the base of her back, soaking into her chemise as she waited for her husband, Gabriel, to return with the tickets.

People shouted, pushing their way in. What were they clamoring about? It would be hotter in the building than in the ninety-degree sun. Despite the heat, the crowd was enticing, it was gathered for a reason, and she was about to find out.

Gabriel elbowed his way to her and cupping her elbow, handed the tickets over and propelled her to the stage where a straw hut and enormous clay urns stood to the side.

She heard the woman standing next to her whisper ‘naked’ and then something about scandalous movements.

Drumming and some eerie stringed instrument played by a turbaned man started off to the left of the stage but the shocked gasp of the crowd brought her head snapping back to the platform.

Portia’s breath caught in her throat. She should have at least closed her eyes, but she was riveted. A woman with sallow skin holding veils tiptoed out into the center. At first glance it looked as if she wore no clothes; her top was a small-strapped top with hanging coins and the stomach that looked bare was covered with nude fabric. Her skirt was up to her mid calf, her stockings made to look like skin, and her hair, unbound, flowed down to her bottom and swayed with every step. Even her hairpiece sparkled with golden coins.

The building sign had shouted in painted red letters that Little Egypt, African Performer was dancing. But Portia had no idea that this…display…this must be what the crowds were about.

Drums sounded as if they were far off and as they became louder, the woman closed her eyes and began to dance while other similarly clad women formed a line behind her.

It was not a waltz, or any other acceptable ballroom dance, but slow rhythmic undulation of hips, side to side, her arms spread wide as she held the brilliant veils, framing her torso.

Portia was horrified. Appalled. It was all she could do to keep from hiding her eyes with her lace-gloved hands. But as repelled as she was, she was equally spellbound. The woman’s stomach, although still covered with a nude colored cloth, rolled, the movements puckering the thin fabric she wore, and in and instant Portia understood. The woman wore no corset. Not the new pouter style that went down to the mid-thigh or even an older style. No, she wore none at all.

She was all but naked, up on a stage in front of hundreds of people. She knew she should be repulsed, but Little Egypt was too beautiful and alluring. The dance sensual and erotic, so different than anything Portia had ever seen before, that its exoticness was like a swim on a humid day. Even though she wanted to watch, Portia was respected in the community, and it would be shameful for her to be seen here. She had her husband’s reputation to think of. Gabriel would be disgusted; he was far too moral a man to sanction watching this. They must leave.

“Gabriel, this is most improper.” She tugged on his sleeve to get his attention.

“Huh? What?” He ripped his gaze away. “What?”

“This is improper. We should leave.”

He glanced behind them and turned back to watch the stage. “There’s no way we can leave now, there’s too many people pushed to the front.”

She scanned the rapt faces, and looked back to the stage. The woman was making slow circles, her feet barely moving, but her hips rocking as she wove herself around and around.

Portia stared at her husband’s profile, his straight nose and thick golden brown hair. His broad shoulders filled out his cream linen suit so smartly, but her admiration stopped there. His hazel eyes were transfixed on the woman, Little Egypt, his irises eaten up in black.

Pain squeezed her chest.

This is what it had come to. She never thought jealousy would hurt so much, or be so angry.

She would give anything to go back in time to meet him before he joined the Seminary. Maybe then she could have saved their marriage, even though they had not yet met. What was her husband like before he wanted to become a priest? Did they have a chance at all for the marriage she longed for? One where they were intimate partners and loving mates, not two houseguests who were never more than cordial?

She had done everything she could think of to make him look at her the way he stared at the performer. She asked, she even tried to be seductive, but her nervousness made her actions come off stilted, like a bad play where the actors were forever trying to remember their lines.

She even went as far as to ask for another child. She knew that procreation brooked no argument, and to do so, he had to touch her. Even though he was quick and regretful, those few moments of his weight on her were bliss. Enough to make her pleasure herself on the nights she spent alone in her bed, while he lay on the other side of the wall. Maybe if she didn’t get pregnant right away she could beg more time together. On those nights at least he slept in her bed.

With the same intensity he stared at the woman, Portia watched him. His face was flushed, and disapproval wrinkled his brow, but his eyes were still fevered and black with lust.

She was coming to the point of doing anything, and maybe this was the answer she was looking for. The fair would still be open for a few days more. Tuesday, while Gabriel was at work she would have the nurse watch Daniel and Ethan, and she would come back and find this woman who had captured her husband’s lust with a few moves of her hips. She would ask for private lessons, just a few. Maybe she could somehow lure him the same way.

She knew Gabriel had never been unfaithful, but she would be damned if she settled for second best for the rest of their lives, and regardless, she loved him too much to not try.

“I demand this foul sinful show stop immediately!” The booming voice snapped everyone’s head to the speaker.

“Stop this licentious display I say!” The shouter elbowed his way forward, his straw hat knocked off is head and he snatched it back from the woman that caught it.

The musicians stopped with broken notes and loud whispers overtook the room.

The man was at the base of the stage now, pounding it with a fist and Little Egypt and the woman who formed the troupe behind her shrank back to the door of the hut.

His gray hair, once a shiny helmet had skewed with the force of his shouting and pounding, and his portly figure stretched the buttons on his vest.

“Sol Bloom, you hear me?” He shouted to the back of the stage. “This is Anthony Comstock, President of the Society of the Suppression of Vice, and we demand that this wanton display of immorality cease!” His face, before red, now was mottled and purple in places.

A dark haired man wearing a fine summer weight suit and gold timepiece chain swagged over his vest strolled out to the center stage, a smirk on his face. “And how would you make me?”

“Make you? We demand you stop this show right now, refund these people their money, and close this building.”

Sol slapped is thigh and laughed then took his time stopping, a chuckle still escaping. “Like I said, how are you going to make me?”

Mr. Comstock straightened and speared the air with is finger. “I will rally the Society to protest and hold a march in front of the building.”

“Well then, I’ll have to thank you for the free advertising.” Sol nodded.

Mr. Comstock sputtered. “The people who are moral will not stand for this debasement of their fine city. Heaven will prevail!”

“Amen!” A man shouted from the back.

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