The Frenchman's Captive Wife

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by Chantelle Shaw


  ‘Go to hell,’ she snapped, tears of mortification stinging her eyelids. How dared he look at her like that, as if she was some cheap tart and he was considering sampling her wares? ‘I’m surprised you even remember. It’s a long time since you chose to share my bed but, then, you didn’t need to did you, Luc? You were busy elsewhere.’ She broke off abruptly, twin spots of colour staining her cheeks. Now was not the time to reveal the depths of the clawing jealousy she’d experienced on those long, lonely nights when she’d waited in vain for him to come home.

  ‘As soon as I arrive in London, I’ll have my lawyers contact yours to arrange suitable access to Jean-Claude,’ she told him briskly as she looked towards the farmhouse. No doubt Laura was struggling to give her guests a guided tour of the kitchens with Jean-Claude clamped to her hip. The sooner she held her son in her arms the happier she would be, she decided after risking another peep at Luc’s inscrutable face. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to go and find him,’ she murmured awkwardly. She supposed she should invite Luc into the farmhouse to meet his son and her conscience prickled uncomfortably as he continued to stare down at her with those laser-beam eyes that she was sure could read her mind.

  She didn’t want to take him inside, she acknowledged as a faint edge of apprehension gripped her once more. San Antonia was her territory, and for some reason she would prefer Luc’s first meeting with his son to take place on the neutral ground of her solicitor’s office. Time was getting on, she realised with a glance at her watch. The coach driver was looking impatient and if she wasn’t careful she would miss her flight.

  ‘Are you in the habit of losing my son?’ Luc enquired, his brows raised sardonically, and she flushed.

  ‘Of course not. I haven’t lost him, just mislaid him,’ she added, her vain attempt to lighten the situation, receiving no flicker of response from him. ‘So, I’ll see you in London.’ She needed to walk away from him but it seemed as if her feet were trapped in quicksand and she couldn’t move as her eyes greedily absorbed every detail of his beloved face. Not that she loved him any more, her mind hastily pointed out, but he possessed a magnetism that even now was wrapping itself around her, making coherent thought impossible.

  ‘As you wish.’ The curtness of Luc’s tone broke the spell and she became aware of his sudden impatience as he flicked back the sleeve of his jacket to read his watch. The brief glimpse of his tanned wrist, dusted with a sprinkling of fine black hairs, caused her tummy to lurch and she inhaled sharply. ‘We need to make a move anyway.’

  His words puzzled her and she gave a harsh laugh. ‘Let me guess. Robyn is waiting in the car for you. I can’t fault her dedication to duty,’ she said sarcastically.

  He was already walking away from her and paused briefly to glance over his shoulder. ‘Oui, Robyn’s behaviour and attitude are exemplary,’ he replied in a tone that clearly indicated her own failing in both departments. ‘But she is not with me this time. Jean-Claude is in the car and, no doubt, growing restless. Au revoir, chérie.’

  Incredibly he had already dipped his head prior to sliding into the car and her feet suddenly grew wings. ‘Luc! Wait, what do you mean, he’s in the car? Jean-Claude is in the house with Laura—isn’t he?’ she finished uncertainly, and the blandness of his expression only served to increase her fear.

  ‘I took the liberty of stowing my son safely in the car while your attention was…’ He paused fractionally. ‘Elsewhere. Tell me, chérie, are you always so careless about leaving him unattended and in the full glare of the sun?’

  ‘He was shaded by the parasol,’ Emily defended herself fiercely, ‘and I did not leave him unattended. He was asleep and I was…’She was going to explain how she had taken advantage of Jean-Claude’s brief nap to load her luggage onto the coach, but the scathing disgust in Luc’s eyes made her want to crawl away.

  ‘You were too busy to watch over him. Anyone could have taken him.’ He pushed home the point by glancing into the car and she flushed. It was true that her attention had been focused on the trip back to London, but she had regularly checked on the baby and, besides, the farmhouse was miles from anywhere. A person would have to have been extremely determined, not to mention devious, to snatch him and unfortunately the description fitted Jean-Luc Vaillon to the letter.

  She had reached the car and her shocked glance revealed that Jean-Claude was indeed inside, strapped into a baby seat and happily absorbed playing with the brightly coloured toys in front of him. ‘But you can’t just take him,’ she faltered, her shock giving way to stark fury. ‘How dare you try to take him from me? I’m his mother.’ She rounded on him, her voice bristling with outrage as her fingers fumbled with the door-handle.

  Instantly his hand closed over hers, his grip bruising as he surveyed her steadily from beneath his ridiculously long, black lashes. ‘And I am his father, yet you thought nothing of keeping him from me. You deliberately hid yourself away and if it hadn’t been for your greed, it’s possible that I still wouldn’t have found you or, more importantly, my son.’

  ‘My greed?’ Emily echoed faintly.

  ‘I assume you were banking on a hefty divorce settlement to keep you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed,’ he mocked, his disdainful glance taking in the rambling farmhouse and various outbuildings, ‘although I’m not sure why you need money in this God-forsaken spot. Perhaps you want it for other reasons than providing a secure environment for Jean-Claude?’

  ‘Such as?’ She glared at him, one hand on her hip while the other was still trapped beneath his.

  ‘Drugs?’ he suggested with a nonchalant shrug that belied the gleam of anger in his eyes. ‘Who knows what goes on inside your hippy commune? All I care is that it is not a suitable place to bring up a small child, certainly not my child.’

  ‘Because, of course, you are such a caring parent.’ She could hardly speak as her anger choked her. ‘San Antonia is not some sort of drugs den. It’s a thriving community where everyone works together and where my friend Laura runs a cookery school for middle-aged ladies. The only drugs you’ll find here are for rheumatism or the menopause!’

  ‘I have never been given the opportunity to prove my worth as a parent,’ Luc snapped, ‘but that’s about to change. My son is coming with me.’

  ‘The hell he is!’ From the corner of her eye Emily saw the coach driver lean out of his window.

  ‘Señorita, we have to go.’

  ‘Yes, I won’t be a minute.’ She tried to open the car door but Luc’s hand tightened around her fingers until she was sure they would break. ‘For God’s sake, Luc!’ Tears brought on through a mixture of pain and fear filled her eyes. ‘You can’t have him.’

  ‘On the contrary, chérie, I already have him. It’s up to you whether you come, too. Personally speaking, you can rot in hell,’ he told her savagely. ‘I would enjoy watching you burn in the eternal flames, but for his sake I suggest you get in the car.’ Abruptly he released the catch and opened the door while she stared wildly around the courtyard, searching for someone to help her.

  ‘There’s no way I’d allow you to take him without me,’ she vowed fiercely, and then gave a despairing cry as the coach began to move. ‘My luggage is on the coach. Enzo, wait!’

  Enzo must have caught sight of her frantic waving in his mirror and braked, but it took Emily precious minutes to drag her cases from the luggage compartment, and when she looked round, the limousine was already rolling forward.

  ‘You bastard, you knew I was coming,’ she sobbed as she yanked open the rear door and threw her cases into the footwell while Luc made no attempt to ask his chauffeur to halt. She was panting as she scrambled into the car and pulled the door shut after her. ‘I’ve a good mind to have you charged with kidnap,’ she snapped, and his sardonic smile told her he was as aware as she that she stood no chance of carrying out her threat. The trap was sprung. She was entirely at his mercy, she realised and trepidation filled her as, with a barely discernible snick, the door lock was
activated.

  ‘Not kidnap,’ he murmured coolly as his gaze settled on her flushed face, ‘I prefer repossession. And I promise you, chérie, this time you will not escape!’

  CHAPTER TWO

  THE ATMOSPHERE INSIDE the car crackled with antagonism. Jean-Claude suddenly lost interest in his toys, stared unblinkingly at Luc and then back at Emily, his bottom lip wobbling.

  ‘It’s all right, Mama’s here. No one’s going to hurt you,’ she reassured him softly, stroking his cheek, and he turned his enormous, velvet grey eyes on her, his tears drying as his face broke into a smile that revealed his one solitary tooth. Luc was sitting on the other side of the baby seat and he stiffened at her words, outrage and bitter, corrosive anger filling him.

  ‘Of course I’m not going to hurt him,’ he snarled, aware of the necessity of keeping his voice low so that he did not frighten Jean-Claude. ‘What kind of barbarian do you think I am to suggest I would hurt my own son?’

  ‘You don’t want to know my opinion of you,’ Emily returned, her smile solely for Jean-Claude’s benefit, belying the venom in her voice. ‘You tried to drive off without me. Don’t you think that wrenching a young baby from his mother’s arms would hurt him?’

  ‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Luc snapped impatiently. ‘You weren’t even with him. You’d abandoned him. What kind of mother does that make you?’

  ‘A damn good one, and I did not abandon him.’ Emily ran a shaky hand over her face as reaction set in. ‘He’s eleven months old, for heaven’s sake. How do you think he would cope without me? He needs me.’

  Luc surveyed her silently, his eyes raking disparagingly over her slender figure and she cringed, wishing she’d worn anything but her bright orange gypsy skirt and yellow strap top. With her hair caught up in a ponytail secured with a livid yellow band and the long, beaded earrings and necklace that one of the artists had made for her, she looked funky and modern, a complete antithesis of the sophisticated, elegant women Luc admired. Women like his PA Robyn Blake.

  ‘You’re not as indispensable as you like to think,’ he said icily. ‘He’d soon forget you and instead of a mother he will have a father. However,’ he continued, ignoring her fearful gasp, ‘I accept that it is in Jean-Claude’s best interests that you play a part in his life, for now at least.’

  ‘Meaning what exactly?’

  ‘Meaning that the situation is likely to change as he grows older but at the moment he is a baby and naturally depends on you. It is for that reason alone that I have decided to take you back,’ he informed her in his cold, clipped tones, and Emily’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

  ‘Well, pardon me for not jumping for joy, but I don’t want to be taken back. I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is—without you in it. In fact,’ she stressed, ‘I’ve never been happier.’ As she spoke she made the mistake of looking at him and her face flamed as she felt her body’s involuntary reaction to his seductive charm. She didn’t want to feel like this. She didn’t want to be pierced by this overwhelming, almost obsessive sexual attraction, and the worst of it was, he was aware of his power over her.

  ‘I’m sure I can come up with a few ideas to keep you content,’ he drawled with an arrogant smile that made her want to scream or hit him, or both. ‘I don’t remember having any problems satisfying you when we were first married. In fact, chérie, after a night in my bed, you used to remind me of a cat who’d gorged on cream.’

  The last thing she needed was to be reminded of her total and utter weakness where he was concerned. One look from those flashing grey eyes and she had been putty in his hands, her body desperate to experience the ecstasy of his full possession. She had been little better than a sex slave, she thought disgustedly, and he had exerted his power over her ruthlessly, subjugating her to his will with shameful ease.

  Luc had to be playing a cruel game with her, she thought desperately. His insinuation that he knew he could keep her happy by sleeping with her was his despicable way of reminding her of her vulnerability where he was concerned. But she had changed during the year they had spent apart. She had grown up and taken charge of her emotions. With his incredible looks and raw, sexual magnetism, it wasn’t surprising that he had once had such a strong hold over her but she had broken free of his spell and she refused to be bewitched again.

  Jean-Claude was watching her and the beauty of his smile tore at her heart. He was innocently unaware of the bitterness that existed between his parents, a bitterness that would only fester if they were forced together again. At the moment he was just a baby, but as he grew older he would detect the signs that his parents detested one another and would surely be damaged by their antagonism.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ she whispered huskily. ‘For our son’s sake, can’t we call a truce and aim for an amicable divorce instead of fighting over him? Surely the most important thing is to give Jean-Claude the best upbringing we can?’

  ‘I agree,’ Luc replied, his gaze clashing with hers, ‘which is why there will be no divorce. Our son deserves to be brought up by two parents who love him, even if they do not love each other,’ he continued, ignoring Emily’s shocked gasp. ‘You will remain my wife, chérie, for better or worse. And make no mistake,’ he warned her in a tone that gave some indication of his determination, ‘it will be a proper marriage, in every sense of the word.’

  ‘You can’t really expect me to…to sleep with you,’ Emily spluttered, outrage rendering her temporarily speechless as the full meaning of his words sank in.

  ‘Why not? Our marriage may have had its problems, but the sex was always good. You were the most responsive lover I’ve ever known,’ he told her, and she died a little at the way he could discuss something that had been so precious to her with such clinical detachment.

  ‘Well, you’ve known a lot so I’ll take your word for it but I’m afraid it’s not an experience I want to repeat.’

  ‘Is that so, ma petite?’ The sudden amusement in his voice fuelled her anger and she curled her fingers into fists so that her nails bit into her palms. ‘Time will tell, although not too much time, I hope. Patience isn’t one of my finer virtues.’

  ‘I’d rather kill myself than bear your touch again,’ she snapped with a shudder as she contemplated the certain humiliation that would follow if she ever lowered her guard against him. He inhaled sharply, a nerve jumping in his cheek as he stared at her.

  ‘Don’t joke about such things, especially as we both know that you’re lying,’ he ground out, and she jerked her head round, startled by the bitterness in his eyes. ‘You might have wrapped that cloak of virginal shyness around you like a nun’s habit but you were a whore in the bedroom. Not that I’m complaining,’ he added silkily when she turned her stunned, pain-filled eyes on him. ‘I may be willing to put up with your presence in my life for Jean-Claude’s sake, but I think I’m entitled to some compensations!’

  He swung away to stare out of the window and in the ragged silence that followed his shocking statement she could only stare at his harsh profile. He really hated her, she realised as a combination of pain and panic washed over her. During the brief months they’d spent together after their marriage, she’d glimpsed his ruthless streak in his business dealings. Beneath his charismatic charm lurked a merciless disregard for anyone who dared cross him, and despite his insistence that their marriage would continue, he viewed her as the enemy. For a moment she quailed but from somewhere her pride came to the rescue and she lifted her chin.

  ‘You don’t really want me back, any more than you want to play happy families with Jean-Claude. I intend to seek a divorce, Luc, and I’ll fight you tooth and nail for my baby. You never wanted him and I can prove that while I was pregnant you were too busy sleeping with your bloody secretary to give a damn about your unborn child or me. This has nothing to do with wanting Jean-Claude, has it?’ She pressed on, ignoring the ominous tightening of his jaw that gave some indication of his fury. ‘This is about your obsession to win, the need t
o exert your power. You didn’t want me and perhaps when you were good and ready you’d have divorced me, but you can’t bear the fact that I was the one to walk away. I defied you and now you want to punish me by claiming the child you never even wanted to be born.’

  ‘Enough!’ His voice stung like the crack of a whip as he jerked his head round to face her and Emily visibly flinched, although she refused to drop her gaze. Once she had been in awe of him, her painful lack of self-confidence no match for his brilliant mind and acerbic wit, but she had Jean-Claude to fight for now and she glared across the car, determined not be cowed. ‘Mon Dieu! You have developed the tongue of a viper. I am trying very hard to be fair, which is more than you deserve when you never once gave me the same consideration. You stole my son, and like a thief in the night you hid him from me. Let me set something straight once and for all Emily,’ he growled. ‘I always wanted our child. I longed to hold our baby in my arms, but for all these months you denied me even the knowledge of his existence. Now, finally, I have found him and nothing in this world will ever make me let him go. If you insist on filing for divorce I can’t stop you, but I will fight you for Jean-Claude with all the means at my disposal, and financially those means are considerable. If you want there to be war between us rather than peace, go ahead, but I hope you have the stomach for it because it is a war I will win.’

  The car was speeding along the road, the locked doors preventing her escape even if it had been possible to jump out. The plush leather upholstery, the uniformed chauffeur and the discreet but well-stocked bar all indicated a level of wealth that would render any legal fight between them a waste of time. Luc could afford the best lawyers and if he chose to seek custody of Jean-Claude she would stand no chance against him. For the moment at least, she was out of options. Luc had won as usual and she seethed silently. ‘I hate you,’ she spat at him, and he shrugged indifferently.

 

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