“Yes it is still sore but getting better. I will be up and around causing trouble for you ooh very shortly I would say.”
“Good I look forward to it,’ he mocked. ‘I have to go away yet again on business for a couple of days,” he said. “Don’t get any ideas about escaping, Leon will be here to look after you and he isn’t as patient as me with indiscretions,’ he looked directly at Mara with hooded eyes that made her breathe hard and as she remembered the car, the scene of her last indiscretion and his punishment. There was a wicked look in his eyes as she hastily sipped her tea to hide from him.
“Now do I have your word that you won’t try anything I wouldn’t want to have to put you both under lock and key.”
Mara ran a hand through her hair noticing the billionaire was watching her intently. Every time she was near him she could feel him watching her and it was hard to keep her own from him. There was so much tension between them the air crackled and she was finding herself becoming more and more aroused by his presence.
“No, I can assure you no one will be trying to escape,’ she looked at Maxine as she spoke, the annoyance in her voice causing Maxine to turn away embarrassed.
“Good because we have made contact with Ryan and are trying to persuade him to bring Louise back. So this should all be over very soon. Right then I will leave you. Maxine make sure Mara rests on that lounger. See that she stays there all day and only gets off it to go to bed to rest. Is that clear?”
Maxine nodded in response and satisfied he left them to their devices.
“For someone who is holding you to ransom, he seems to care a lot about your welfare,” Maxine said with a grin. “I hope he is right and this is al over in a short while.”
“He just wants me to be healthy to enjoy a long prison sentence on a trumped up charge and the end of my career if Ryan doesn’t come through and runs with Louise again.’
“Mara,” Maxine reprimanded her with her sharp tone for her words.
“It’s true. I don’t know what he is up to. At least he will eventually let you go.”
Maxine shivered.
“I don’t want anything to happen to you, Mara.’
“Well, get over that wall,” she almost shouted.
Maxine ignored her and took another sip of her coffee.
A day later, on his return Stephane called Mara in to his study. He was sitting behind an ornate desk speaking to someone on the telephone his security chief Leon standing behind him like a faithful pet.
On her entrance into the room the billionaire stopped speaking on the phone and looked sternly at her.
“I’ve got Ryan on the line and I want you to speak to him. He doesn’t believe that I have kidnapped you.”
Mara’s face lit up and Stephane’s eyes narrowed in response. He handed her the phone.
“Ryan, is that you?”
“Oh thank god, Mara. He hasn’t hurt you has he? I’ll kill him.”
“No, no he hasn’t,” she answered nervously glancing at Stephane.
“I didn’t believe him. Don’t worry, darling, I am coming straight over there.”
“Don’t act as if nothing has happened between us,” Mara snapped forgetting there was an audience. “I don’t give a dam about you. I just want you over here to sort this mess out,” she shouted.
Stpehane motioned to Leon and instantly he snatched the phone from her hands, handing it back to her captor.
“You’ve heard enough, Ryan. Now get back here with my sister or the next time you see Mara she will be behind bars.”
He slammed the phone down and brusquely asked Mara to leave the room. There was anger in his eyes and she thought there was also something else, jealousy perhaps.
Chapter Six
Later that day they were informed a ball would be held the following evening. It was an annual ball, she told them crossly and they couldn’t cancel it, the offence in the French society circle would be too much too bear and would cause suspicion. There was no other way for it, they would both have to attend and appear as guests. That was the way Stephane wanted it and he had ordered the appropriate attire which had been left in their rooms. Mara had given the woman an impatient look as she had come bustling out into the gardens to give them the news and then begin to retreat from them as though they were lepers.
“I’m not going to any damn ball,” Mara said throwing her arms into the air. “I don’t believe him.”
“A ball will be fun.”
“Maxine this is not a game. I’m not going and neither are you. We have to make life as difficult as possible for him. I won’t pander to his whims and heaven knows what hideous outfits he is going to force us to wear. I’ve got a good mind to go to the ball in my jeans. Now that would bound to cause a stir and knock Madame off her perch.”
Maxine shook her head and ran to follow her hobbling back into the house. She stormed into her room to find the evidence of his cruel intentions and stopped short in her tracks.
“Oh, Mara its beautiful,’ Maxine approached the bed and bent to stroke a hand over the luxurious material of the dress that was tidily lain out on the bed.
Mara walked over too afraid to touch. The dress was exquisitely beautiful made of Clerici Duchess satin from Italy, the finest in the world Maxine told her as she picked up the dress undaunted. The color was scarlet with small straps that held up a fitting bodice in contrast to the full skirt. Maxine held the dress against Mara’s body and forced her to look in the mirror.
“You have to wear it.”
Mara smiled finding herself caught with the dress’s magic.
‘Try it on. Please,’ Maxine urged.
Mara gave her a wary look but capitulated without too much persuasion.
A few minutes later Maxine zipped the bodice up telling he that she would have to wear a corset underneath and pushed her back towards the mirror.
Mara twirled around feeling the tulle petticoat beneath the full skirt swish against the satin.
“Its fantastic,” she told Maxine stroking the satin. ‘But I can’t wear it.’
The statement was flat and final. Maxine frowned and started coming out with frustrated French expletives that Mara didn’t even want to try and understand. Instead she unzipped the dress and stepped out of it slipping her summer dress back on.
“Don’t be an idiot, Mara, of course you can wear it. Take what you can from Stephane Garreau. You deserve it. Anyway he will only be angry if you don’t and we can’t afford to upset him,” Maxine said raising her eyebrows, attempting to give her friend’s guilty conscience a reason to wear the dress.
Mara looked at the garment and bit her lip.
“It is beautiful and you are right he may be angry if I don’t. No. I’ll think about it,” she said stubbornly.
Maxine gave up and left the room to see what her what her own dress looked like.
Mara sat down at the dressing table and finished applying her make up. She was content to humor Maxine’s need to dress her as though she was playing with a living doll, secretly glad of the attention when feeling so low. She heard Maxine swear in French above her as she brushed Mara’s hair, annoyed that it wouldn’t stay behind her ears. She was actually looking forward to the ball even though caution told her to beware. They were not guests. She and Maxine were forced members of an exclusive party that could prove unpleasant at any time.
But maybe she would get lucky. Someone might be willing to help them. She didn’t care what Stephane said. There had to be someone who would believe their story, who wouldn’t believe his lies, who didn’t trust him, someone who was willing to risk going against him.
Mara had to admit she was clutching at straws but she had to hope. Well, if all else she could turn to tears she thought grimacing. Not many men were able to resist a woman crying, including Mr Garreau. She smiled gleefully at herself in the mirror.
“How did you get in here? Oh never mind. What do you want?’ she asked suddenly aware that Maxine had disappeared out of the room only
to be replaced by Stephane’s presence.
She was covered in nothing more than a towel which had an annoying tendency to loosen and slide down her body. Nervously she held the side and prayed it wouldn’t do it again deciding to stay put in the chair where it was safe.
“I came to . . . I want you to wear this tonight,” the billionaire sounded almost nervous.
Stephane stood to her side facing and talking to her image in the mirror. He opened the red velvet box he was carrying to reveal a diamond necklace encrusted with the rare black pearls. Mara turned and gave him a confused look. For once he held her speechless. He motioned for her to turn and face the mirror again.
“I thought it would compliment the dress,” he said stiffly.
He undid the catch and watched her lift her hair to allow him to lay it around her neck. He fastened the clasp and cupped her naked shoulders with his hands, bending down to see the reaction he hoped for in the mirror. She didn’t disappoint him.
“Are you sure? You really want me to wear this? I shouldn’t. It is gorgeous,” she frowned. “More bribes, Mr Garreau?”
He ignored the comment.
“It was my Grandmother’s. She left it to me for when . . .” he stopped. “Well it doesn’t matter. I just thought it might cheer you up. It fits really well. You are very like my father’s mother. I just wish she was here to see you in it. You would have liked her.”
He dipped his eyes to the floor.
“She wouldn’t be very happy with me for what I’ve done, neither would my father.”
“I take it that your Grandmother meant a lot to you?”
He gently stroked her shoulders.
“Yes an awful lot. I got on better with her than my mother.”
“I shouldn’t wear it. It’s not right I . . .” she stuttered suddenly uncomfortable.
Mara laughed. For all of their arguments and dueling Mara liked it when he laughed and when he smiled. That’s when he allowed her a glimpse of the real mischievous Stephane. The one she would like to get to know.
“Would it make you feel better if I told that you had to wear it, that I wasn’t giving you any choice?”
“Something like that,” she answered truthfully.
“You know, Ms Logan you are a very beautiful woman,” he whispered brushing against her neck and hair with the side of his face to inhale her scent.
Her eyes returned the appreciative glance and swept over him with words unspoken. There was an intoxicating smell of cedarwood and lemon inviting her to move nearer. He was so close, she wanted to wrap her body around his own and drink him in. Her thoughts shook her but however much she tried to deny it, she wanted him to make love to her right there and then and damn the consequences.
The shoulders that she had been holding stiff and erect loosened under his gentle touch and her skin softened and became supple. Her legs uncrossed and parted together with her moist lips. She was sending him a coded message, slipping into enemy hands betraying her cause with treason. He lowered his lips to her shoulder and trailed a path of warm kisses to her neck. She turned to face him, to object but his fingers against her lips silenced her protest before it was even spoken. He made her stand and then took her mouth, invading the soft inviting wetness and tugged at the towel that opened obediently at her back. The cool air of the room settled against her bare skin leaving her feeling vulnerable before him but strangely undeterred by the path of his fingers down her spine.
Stephane watched the progress of his hand over her shoulder in the mirror until it glided over her contours to rest on a firm rounded buttock that pouted at him. He allowed his hand to linger. The skin was so soft and fragile there, still pink from the shower. He had an urge to slap it make it quiver against his hand but chose instead to cup the flesh and grip it possessively. The effect was devastating. Her hips molded against his and rose to meet his arousal that was strong and ardent sheathed behind his trousers.
He heard Mara moan when he deepened his kiss once more after she’d whispered his name in a gasp of pleasure. He wanted to hear her gasp it again, make her scream it under him whilst he took her pleasure to new heights that she never would have felt with Ryan or would again. He supported her with his palm in the centre of her back and eased her back over it to remove the rest of the towel.
“Mara, have you finished. You have to get into your dress.”
Maxine was opening the door and barging through it. Mara gave a startled cry and moved away from Stephane’s hands and he was forced to let go of her. She scrabbled around for the towel which he gallantly helped her with before Maxine got through the door.
“Oh I see you are busy,” Maxine grinned noticing the flush of arousal on Mara’s cheeks and her state of undress.
“I will see you both downstairs,” Stephane announced formally lamenting the end of his intimate encounter with his captive and left the room.
Chapter Seven
Maxine rushed over to Mara who was sitting back down, frantically pretending to finish her makeup to hide her trembling hands. If Maxine hadn’t come in and stopped them she and Stephane would have been making love. How could she have been so stupid? She had no control of herself or her emotions anymore. Whenever he was near her, touching her, her body acted of its own accord. Her emotions turned and betrayed her determination not to surrender to him. Unexpectedly she began to cry.
“Mara, what’s wrong? Did he say something to you?”
She shook her head and turned into her friend’s embrace, resting her head on Maxine’s supportive shoulder.
“I’m so tired Maxine. I don’t know how long I can keep this constant warfare with Stephane and . . .”
“The fact that you are falling in love with him,” Maxine finished for her.
There was no answer just more tears. Maxine sought to distract her and quizzed her about the necklace marveling at the diamonds and pearls, speculating on their priceless value.
“It’s lovely isn’t it. It was his Grandmother’s. He told me I had to wear it.”
“Of course he did, cherie and you are quite rightly going to oblige him.”
Mara laughed at Maxine’s mischievous tone.
“Come on we have to get that corset on. The old housekeeper got me one for you this morning.”
Mara allowed Maxine to help her dress and squealed when she pulled the corset so tight she almost cut her circulation off.
“Are you going to try and eat something tonight, Mara. I am getting really worried. You are starting to look too thin. It isn’t good for you. You’ll lose your sexy curves.”
“I’ll try. It just seems that I have no appetite at the moment. I feel sick every time I eat. It started back in London along with the dizziness. I have too much on my mind.”
Mara stepped into the dress and waited for Maxine to zip it up.
“It fits,” she smiled swirling about in front of the full length mirror.
“Mara, don’t you know men? They have an eye for measurements, especially female ones. They devote much attention to it,” Maxine chastised fiddling with the skirt. “And Stephane certainly has an eye for what suits you. You look beautiful in that dress especially with those pearls and diamonds glittering. He won’t be able to resist you.”
Mara tightened her lip but declined to pass any comment.
“You look gorgeous in that dress, Maxine. As usual the men won’t be able to resist you.’
Her friend giggled admiring herself in the mirror. Mara began to walk to the door and stopped suddenly feeling her sore ankle wrench.
“I feel so helpless like this. I wish I could get over that wall. Please Maxine won’t you try?”
“Don’t start that again.”
“Lets just try and enjoy the evening. Maybe we can get someone to help us.”
Stephane was talking to some guests who had just arrived. The males in the party had suddenly become distracted watching something moving on the stairs. He turned to follow their eyes and took a breath. The vision of scarlet
satin so in tune with Mara’s fiery personality appeared before him.
He had spent a lot of time envisaging the moment. With a certain pride he was aware that every man in the room was watching Mara’s movement causing the women to frown and purr with disapproval. The two days he had spent away from the house in Rome he had seen her everywhere, in cafes, meetings and restaurants as though she had put a spell on him. Mara was always in his thoughts.
The billionaire watched her struggle on her own with her badly sprained ankle and holding the dress up. Maxine was too busy being distracted by Leon behind her and no longer gave her support. Stephane bounded up the stairs towards her slipping an arm around her tiny waist and taking her small slender hand in his own. He couldn’t help feeling triumphant as he clutched her towards him like his prize possession signaling she belonged to him to every man watching her.
The Art of Retaliation Page 8