The Frenchman's Captive Wife

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The Frenchman's Captive Wife Page 12

by Chantelle Shaw

The gentle understanding in his tone was her undoing and she bit down hard on her lip. The bolster seemed as insurmountable as the Berlin Wall had once been, a symbol of division that she had put in place and he had vowed he would never remove. He had stuck firmly to his promise and every night climbed into his side of the bed, bade her goodnight in a tone that licked over her like thick honey before he doused the lamp and within minutes appeared to be fast asleep.

  Patently he was not tormented by the same aching desire that saw her toss and turn restlessly until the early hours. Even then her sleep was fractured by memories of his hands on her body, her dreams so wickedly erotic that she woke hot, flustered and desperate for him. It didn’t help matters, she thought dourly, when every night he stripped in front of her, his lack of inhibitions all the more noticeable when she could not walk from the bathroom to the bed without her armour of a thick, all-concealing robe, her face burning as she leapt between the sheets with more haste than dignity.

  Her one defence against her crumbling emotions was the knowledge that he only wanted her as his wife for the sake of their son. What other reason could there be? she wondered bitterly, when Sabine’s exquisitely beautiful face taunted her every time she passed the portrait that took pride of place at the top of the stairs?

  ‘Why didn’t you go for a ride this morning?’ she asked, desperate to break the silence between them. Her eyes widened as his face appeared over the bolster.

  ‘I decided to wait for you. I thought you might like to join me.’ With a night’s shadowy growth on his jaw and his black hair ruffled from sleep, he reminded her of a pirate, his raffish charm too much for her to deal with first thing in the morning.

  ‘Another time perhaps, although it was kind of you to ask,’ she replied stiltedly, and his low chuckle filled her with longing to fling the bolster to the far corner of the bedroom. She loved the sound of his laughter, loved him, she accepted bleakly, but his sudden friendliness was an illusion, a trick, Robyn had assured her, to lull her into a false sense of security while he planned how to win custody of Jean-Claude.

  ‘You’d be surprised at how kind I can be, ma petite,’ he teased, ‘and once you loved riding. In fact, you spent most of your time on Kasim.’

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ she whispered thickly as she curled up into a ball beneath the bedcovers. It was stupid to cry over a horse, she told herself angrily as her mind relived the day Kasim had been sold, along with all the other horses from the stud at Heston Grange. A cost-cutting exercise her father had explained impatiently, unable to cope with her misery when he’d dropped the bombshell. He had never understood that she had turned to her horse for the affection she had never received at home.

  Emily had fled to the stables, utterly distraught, and that was where Luc had later found her, pulling her firmly into his arms as he sank onto a hay bale and cradled her in his lap. His strong arms had offered comfort and she had clung to his wide shoulders as her tears had gradually subsided and she’d explained between hiccups that the deal had already been finalised. Kasim would be shipped out of the country by the end of the week, she had told him, her blue eyes filling once more. He had brushed an errant tear with his thumb pad before lowering his head to trace the same path with his lips.

  She couldn’t remember the exact moment the tenor of his caress changed, deepened to something that no longer offered comfort but instead revealed a burning passion that had been simmering beneath the surface. The first touch of his lips softly brushing over hers was a revelation and a fierce trembling started deep inside as his tongue traced the contours of her mouth. Hampered by her painful shyness, she’d had few boyfriends and her sexual experience was next to nothing, yet she knew instinctively what he wanted her to do and received a low murmur of approval when she tentatively parted her lips.

  Suddenly all remnants of restraint were blown away as he crushed her to him, his mouth an instrument of sensual pleasure as he teased and coaxed her response in a blatant seduction of her senses. She had no thought to deny him, no thoughts of anything but him. Even her heartbreak over Kasim faded, obliterated by the myriad new sensations Luc was evoking within her. When he tipped back into the hay, taking her with him, she made no demur, her excitement reaching fever pitch when he unbuttoned her shirt, his hands warm and deliciously male on her midriff.

  ‘You are exquisite, ma belle.’ His voice stroked over her skin with the same dedication as his hands and she heard him inhale sharply as he eased her bra cup over one breast, his fingers finding its rosy nub and inciting it to swell until it throbbed unbearably. It was so new, so gloriously exciting, and far from feeling shy she was impatient for more, her hips arching beneath him and her soft cries of rapture filling the barn when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

  Who knew what might have happened if voices from the yard had not intruded on their sensual world? Even then, knowing they could be caught at any moment, she was loath to end her first experience of sexual pleasure, and it was Luc who gently eased away from her, sliding her bra back into place and refastening her shirt buttons when it became obvious that her hands were shaking too much to be of any use.

  She had been like putty in his hands, Emily thought dismally, recalling his amused smile at her obvious disappointment that he was calling a halt to their love-making. She had been lost from the moment he’d first kissed her, a willing slave to his desires that more than matched her own. She had made the fatal mistake of confusing sexual attraction for love, because although he had undoubtedly fallen in lust, love had never entered his head or his heart.

  ‘Come with me this morning?’ His voice broke into her thoughts, a welcome interruption from memories that still haunted her and she dragged her gaze from the sculpted beauty of his body as he strolled towards the en suite with a nonchalant disregard for his nakedness. ‘We’ll show Jean-Claude the horses and there’s a quiet little mare who might be suitable for you.’

  ‘So what do you think of Mimi?’ Luc asked later as they stood in the yard, stroking the pretty bay mare the groom had led out from the stables. ‘I admit she’s getting on a bit but she’s gentle and safe for you to ride.’

  ‘Why don’t you just order me a mobility chair and be done with it? I’m not a geriatric and I don’t want to be safe,’ Emily argued. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful but neither did she want to plod around at the pace of a snail. ‘Riding is all about thrills and excitement, the burst of adrenalin I used to feel when I took Kasim on a cross-country hack and we approached a five-foot hedge. It was brilliant,’ she finished, her eyes shining, and Luc glanced at her, a curious expression on his face.

  ‘It was dangerous,’ he pointed out firmly. ‘I know you’re an excellent horsewoman, chérie, but I could never understand why your father allowed you to ride such a powerful animal.’

  ‘Dad was always too wrapped up in running the estate to care about what I got up to,’ Emily revealed cheerfully. ‘I was a lasting disappointment to my parents. I should have been a boy, you see, an heir for Heston, but instead I was a fourth daughter and not even a pretty or talented one, like the other three. Nobody really cared as long as I kept out of the way,’ she told him honestly, ‘and I was more than happy to spend all my time with Kasim.’

  Dear God, no wonder she suffered from such a crushing lack of self-confidence, Luc thought grimly as he stared at her upturned face. She had spent her life feeling second-rate and she had needed someone to put her at the centre of their world, not abandon her in the middle of a big city and promptly leave her for weeks on end. Suddenly the reason for her jealousy of Robyn became clear. She had felt threatened by the older woman’s sophistication, had perhaps compared herself unfavourably, as she had done with her sisters. But he had never once taken the time to reassure her that her innocence and gentle beauty were the reasons he had fallen in love with her. He had taken everything she had offered so freely and given nothing in return, not his time, his exclusive attention, and perhaps most damaging of all, not his trust.
He had never found the courage to share his emotions. Was it any wonder, then, that she had believed he didn’t care?

  ‘Well, I can see you’re not impressed with Mimi,’ he murmured huskily, a mixture of guilt and confusion making his throat raw. ‘There is one other horse you might be interested in,’ he told her as she began to push Jean-Claude’s buggy out of the yard. ‘The groom’s just bringing him in from the paddock.’

  Even from a distance the proud toss of the horse’s head was stomach-clenchingly familiar to Emily and she stiffened, disbelief draining the colour from her face. ‘Luc? It can’t be Kasim,’ she whispered faintly, as the horse came nearer, his hooves clattering on the tiled yard, his breath sounding in loud snorts as he tugged on the lead rein so that it took all the groom’s strength to control him. ‘Oh, my God!’ She stumbled forward, her eyes focused on Kasim, whose coat gleamed like polished ebony in the sunlight, his tail twitching restlessly as he stood, still trying to jerk the rein out of the groom’s hand.

  ‘Kasim, is it really you?’ she asked wonderingly, and the horse stopped tugging and lowered its head so that soulful brown eyes were on a level with her own. For a moment she thought her heart would burst. She’d forgotten just how much he had meant to her, or rather not forgotten. She’d just buried the memory of him deep in her subconscious because losing him had hurt so much. Now she pushed her face into his neck, trying vainly to hold back the tears as he nuzzled her. ‘My darling boy.’ Her voice cracked with the emotions she couldn’t hide and Luc swung away from the scene, feeling as though he was intruding. He wanted her to be happy, wanted it so much that he ached with it. She deserved so much more than he had ever given her but for so long he had failed her and her reaction to finding out about Sabine had brought home to him how cavalier he had been with her emotions.

  ‘Oh, Luc, I can’t believe he’s real,’ she whispered, and he blinked fiercely before turning to face her. He hadn’t cried since he’d been a boy, since he’d looked down at his mother’s shattered body and realised that his efforts to make her happy hadn’t been enough. Failing the people he cared about the most was a regular feature in his life, he thought bleakly, and the utter joy on Emily’s face pierced his soul. He didn’t want to fail her.

  ‘He must remember you. I haven’t seen him this calm since he arrived,’ he remarked diffidently. ‘Can I take it that your tears are of happiness?’

  ‘You know they are,’ she said, scrubbing her eyes with her knuckles. Her smile caused a sharp pain in his chest. ‘How did you find him? I thought he went abroad.’

  ‘He did, and his new owner was loath to part with him, but fortunately I was able to persuade him to sell.’ He did not add that it had taken all of his considerable charm and persuasive skills, not to mention a figure that was three times the value of the thoroughbred, before Sheik Hassan had agreed to a deal, but it was worth every penny to see the joy on Emily’s face.

  ‘But you can’t have bought him for me?’

  ‘Well, no one else can ride him, he’s too damned feisty. Why shouldn’t I buy him for you, ma petite?’ he asked gently. ‘I know how much you love him.’

  ‘Oh, Luc!’ Her heart was surely going to burst and with a cry she shot across the yard and threw herself against his chest, ‘I love you. I mean…’She broke off, her eyes suddenly shadowed and her cheeks flooding with colour. ‘Obviously not. What I meant was, I love what you’ve done…it was a lovely gesture.’ She stepped away from him, her embarrassment painful to witness, and his heart clenched.

  ‘You used to tell me all the time that you loved me,’ he murmured quietly, and she refused to meet his gaze.

  ‘Don’t remind me. You must have found my eagerness very…tiresome.’

  ‘Non,’ he replied honestly, ‘I found it very lovely. I liked to hear you say it.’

  ‘But you couldn’t say it to me.’ She stepped back from him and blinked hard, desperate to banish her tears. She’d made enough of a fool of herself without suffering the humiliation of breaking down in front of him. ‘It’s all right,’ she assured him when he reached out a hand to her. ‘I know why, and I understand.’ He couldn’t tell her he loved her when his heart was with Sabine. ‘Finding Kasim for me is the most wonderful thing you have ever done and I don’t know how I can ever thank you.’

  ‘Try,’ he suggested softly, and the warmth of his gaze stunned her before his lips claimed hers, his kiss so sweetly evocative that she was forced to blink back the tears. He explored her mouth with tender passion and she closed her eyes as he dismantled her defences with an ease that should have appalled her. She’d missed him, she acknowledged honestly. For the past month she’d only been half-alive, waiting, longing for him to break down the barriers she’d erected against him, and now she was in his arms she never wanted to leave. The gentle probing of his tongue between her lips took the kiss to a new dimension and when she opened her mouth fully she heard him mutter something beneath his breath before he hauled her up against the solid wall of his chest, ready to crush any signs of resistance. But he need not have worried, she was all his.

  ‘Your riding gear’s in the tack room,’ he murmured at last when he lifted his head to stare down at her, his body clenching as he studied her softly swollen lips. He was tempted to simply carry her off into the barn, lay her down on the sweet-smelling hay and make love to her until there could be no more doubts or mistrust between them. Instead, he reined in his desire and ignored the driving need that left a permanent ache in his guts. He had already blackmailed her into his bed once and although her resistance had been minimal, the next time he wanted her to come to him willingly, without duress and certainly not because she felt she owed him for her damned horse. ‘Are you ready to try Kasim out?’

  ‘Jean-Claude?’ Emily glanced around, guilt assailing her as she belatedly remembered her son. Fortunately he was sitting in his buggy, seemingly fascinated by Kasim, and with excellent timing Liz walked across the yard.

  There followed one of the most glorious hours of her life as she saddled up Kasim and joined Luc on his powerful palomino. Luc insisted they take it easy. Kasim was still unsettled by his new surroundings, he warned, and Emily was secretly surprised by the stallion’s strength. She hadn’t ridden for nearly two years, she consoled herself, and Kasim had always had a will of his own. It was one of the reasons she loved him, but her arms were aching by the time they returned to the stables.

  ‘I want you to promise me you won’t take him out alone,’ Luc demanded as he helped her to dismount. Where she was hot and breathless from the ride, he didn’t seem to have a hair out of place in tight jodhpurs that moulded his muscular thighs and a black lambswool jumper. ‘In all honesty, Kasim is too big and powerful for you and if it wasn’t for the fact that you love him so much, I would have bought you another horse.’ He had spent the last hour on tenterhooks that she would be thrown. In his mind he could envisage her lying broken and bloodied on the ground and he was bitterly regretting his decision to buy the horse. How could he live with himself if she was hurt? It would be his fault.

  ‘I’ll soon get used to him again,’ Emily began, and was subjected to a hard stare that brooked no argument.

  ‘I mean it, Emily. You’re only to ride him when either the groom or I can accompany you. Disobey me and I’ll have no option but to sell him,’ he finished grimly. ‘I won’t stand by and allow you to endanger your life.’

  ‘What do I have to do to prove that I’m not a six-year-old?’ she snapped in exasperation, her hands on her hips as she glared at him. His lips twitched.

  ‘You’ve done that admirably already, chérie,’ he murmured dulcetly, ‘but I won’t complain if you want to jog my memory!’

  Their new-found harmony lasted the length of the walk back to the château. The Loire region of France was so beautiful, Emily mused as they strolled hand in hand along the lanes. Suddenly the countryside appeared even lusher and more vibrantly green, the cloudless sky an even denser shade of blue. It was as if her
senses had gone into overdrive, the sound of birdsong sounding acutely sweet to her ears as her heart swelled with happiness. Luc had found Kasim for her. Not only that but he had hunted across several Middle Eastern states to find him and bring him to France. It had not been the action of a man who despised her. Perhaps he was starting to forgive her for keeping Jean-Claude from him and was even beginning to trust her. There was still a long way to go, she acknowledged as the memory of Sabine caused her heart to lurch. Maybe he would never love her the way he had his first wife, but suddenly the future seemed rosier than it had for a long while.

  Life had a curious way of refusing to run to plan, she decided a few minutes later when they climbed the steps of the château and were met by Philippe.

  ‘Monsieur Laroche is here to see you, Madame,’ he murmured. ‘The manager of the bank,’ he added when she stared at him in obvious confusion. ‘I asked him to wait in the salon.’

  ‘Curious,’ Luc murmured in her ear, his expression suddenly unfathomable, although the sexy smile had disappeared. ‘Is it a social call, do you think, or business?’

  ‘Business, I imagine,’ Emily replied, horribly aware that her cheeks were flaming, proclaiming her guilt. How could she have forgotten the appointment she had requested Philippe to arrange with the bank manager to discuss her plans for setting up her own business? Without access to a car she had been forced to ask Monsieur Laroche to visit the château and had prayed that Luc would be busy in the nursery with Jean-Claude. In her excitement over Kasim the meeting had completely slipped her mind, and with a swift glance at Luc’s furious face she pinned a smile on her lips and stepped into the salon to greet the dapper Frenchman.

  ‘I hope you haven’t been waiting long,’ she murmured, aware of Luc’s brooding presence by the fireplace as she offered Monsieur Laroche a seat. It was clear that Luc had no intention of awarding her privacy for her meeting and her baleful glare was met with a bland smile and a shrug of feigned misunderstanding that she wanted him to leave.

 

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