by Jackie Ivie
Linna nodded.
“You’ve nothing to say on the matter?”
Moss green eyes hadn’t moved from watching her. She wondered briefly what the love act with him would be like, and then sent the thought away. It might be horrid. It might not. It wasn’t her choice anymore, anyway.
Linna closed her eyes. She was selling herself but she was getting her price. It was nearly perfect. She was going to be Madame Larroquette. She’d be free of Ryan Daniels. She’d be free of the stigma of having a murderer for a father. She’d be free of Luthor. She’d be free. It wasn’t how she’d wanted it, but it was what she wanted.
She sent every emotion as far away as possible. It wasn’t easy. One night? She could do it. She opened her eyes. He hadn’t moved.
“Very well, Monsieur Raoul. I accept your terms. Wait!”
She held up one hand to stop him, and in the back of her mind it registered just how closely he resembled a cat coiled to spring. He was probably as amazed when he halted mid-stride as she was. Linna licked her lips to wet them. “It’s to be tonight then. One night. I’ll give myself to you tonight. All of tonight. But....” She let her voice trail off.
“But what?” he asked, in an ugly tone.
“But, then...never again. Never.”
“What? Are you crazed?”
Linna forced herself to shrug as if she weren’t facing a man capable of taking everything she was withholding. She met his look as squarely as possible, every bit of her alert to the threat. Her voice was warbling but that couldn’t be helped. It was the best she could do. “Those are my terms. Take it or leave it.”
Raoul took a step backward and then another. He was stopped by a chair and he flung it aside. Linna’s eyes couldn’t shut on the sight as wood splintered against the wall. His hair wasn’t very long, but he yanked it from the queue he’d worn to the ball. It made him look even wilder than before. She scooted into the center of the table and pulled her knees to her chin. It wasn’t much, but she felt safer.
“Are you really that cold?” he asked, surprising her with the quiet tone.
“C–cold?” The whisper was the best she could manage. Her voice was failing her.
“You’ve never felt it, have you? The heat? The intensity? The passion. You know nothing of the pleasure either. Am I right?”
She didn’t answer. Linna watched as he turned one of his oil lamps down before walking to the next.
“Well?” He stopped at the next to last lamp and looked over at her. Linna was having a difficult time seeing him. She blinked.
“I don’t see what that—” she began, but he interrupted her.
“You can’t deny yourself what you don’t know.”
“I know I won’t like it,” she responded as coolly as possible.
“How can you know that?”
“Men take. Women do the giving. What else is there to know?”
Her answer was a tight chuckle before the last lamp dimmed. Linna couldn’t see him since the largest pool of light was directly above her head.
“You’ve never been with a man obviously. Or if you were, he wasn’t much of a man. You’ll learn. I’ll teach you.”
“Wh—what...does that mean?” The entire question didn’t make sound, but he seemed to know what it was.
“That I’m adding a term to yours. That’s what it means.”
“What is it?”
“Tonight. All of it. All of you. Every response is mine. Every part of you that I can reach, I get. You give. Willingly. Completely. All night. Every minute, every hour, every breath. You hold nothing back. Nothing.”
Linna trembled. She couldn’t hide it. “And then...never again?”
He came back into the light, making Linna’s every conscious thought flee right out of her head. He’d shed his ruffled shirt, and the expanse of chest he’d bared was indescribable. She licked her lips to stall for time, roaming her eyes over every lump, every amazing bulge at his abdomen, and the large muscles of his upper chest. Despite herself, her own breasts tightened at the sight. She’d known what a man looked like, yet nothing would have prepared her for him. Her lower lip dropped. She could only hope he didn’t know why.
“Never again? I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement after all, Miss Linna.”
Her raised eyebrows answered for her.
“Unless you want it. Only then. You have to open your mouth to ask for it. I’ll not touch you again unless you do that. You understand what I’m agreeing to?”
She nodded. He took a step nearer. She slid a corresponding distance away. He smiled and the shadows widened it into a grin.
“Know this much, too. I’ll not alter the terms. If I sense less than complete and total surrender to me tonight, the deal is off. You have no wedding ring and no promise. Nothing. You understand?”
“Yes,” she said, although her mouth was too dry to make the sound.
“I’m afraid I didn’t hear that,” he replied.
There wasn’t enough moisture in her mouth to swallow. She was forced to nod.
Raoul reached for her champagne glass and downed the contents with one long draught. Then he set the goblet back with such studied precision, it settled right back into its own moisture ring. He put both hands on the table edge and leaned toward her. He pinned his gaze on her legs, before it traveled over her entwined arms, then he met her open-eyed stare. The solid wood beneath her might as well have been bubbles. Despite herself, Linna swayed backward.
“You do realize what this means?” he asked, lifting his brows.
Linna was having a hard time concentrating. Raoul Larroquette must know what a picture he was presenting, yet he acted like it was nothing. One small line furrowed his brow, a lock of dark hair carved to the top of his nose, and eyes that held only a hint of moisture glinted from the shadow created by his eyelashes.
It was her turn to scan. Massive shoulders and chest flowed into slender hips, and from there to the muscular thighs she’d felt earlier while they’d danced. His old-fashioned breeches weren’t hiding one bit of him. They were defining instead. Everywhere. Her entire body felt flushed and hot.
“Well?” he asked, when the silence just kept growing.
“I know what it means,” she answered softly. She had to look away. He was stealing her breath and bringing flutters of nervousness into existence deep in her belly at the same time.
“I warn you, you’re to find satisfaction with no one else. No one. There is no betraying to be done. You wants, your desires, your release come only from me. You understand that much, too?”
Satisfaction? Release? There was nothing like that about the love act. It was brutal, animalistic, and harsh. It was, wasn’t it? There wasn’t anyone she could ask. Rhea never spoke about it, and their own mother had betrayed them all over it. That’s why she’d been shot.
Linna stopped that thought. A quick flash of what her own mother had done went through her consciousness, but she thrust it aside, just as she’d done since it had first happened. She wasn’t going to deal with it. Ever. It was getting easier each time, too.
She looked back at him. “I’ll never be a faithless wife. Never!”
He tipped his head and looked her over. Then, he nodded. Her lips thinned. “What of you, Raoul?” she asked.
“What about me?” he asked, leaning in and emphasizing each word.
“Will you hold to the same standard?” Linna couldn’t believe she’d found enough voice to utter it. He was so close to her now, he was stealing every breath the moment it left her body and inhaling it for his own. And then he was keeping her from gaining the next.
“What? Never to touch another woman?”
The breath from the words reached her first, since she couldn’t hear a thing over the pounding in her own ears. She nodded.
“Christ.”
He pushed himself away with a shove from his shoulders and stepped back. Linna undulated slightly at being released. She hadn’t known how tautly she’d been
holding herself. She only hoped he wouldn’t notice how unsteady she was now. She couldn’t even find her voice as he speared her with another piercing look.
“You dare to ask such a thing of me?”
“I...uh—” Neither word made sound.
“You think such a thing is possible?”
“I—” she tried again, but he interrupted her.
“You’d shackle me in such a fashion? Deny me husbandly rights then torture me with what I’m missing? Are you that heartless?”
“I...wouldn’t...torture you,” she whispered.
“You’d be with me. At my side. Flaunting each and every part of your body. It would be torture. I guarantee it.”
He was pacing the floor in front of the table, stopping at each end to dart a look her way. Then, he’d turn back. Linna wasn’t capable of moving her eyes from the sight.
“Well, you’re demanding it of me,” she finally replied.
“You don’t know what you’d be missing. I do. There’s a world of difference.”
“So? I wouldn’t like being betrayed either.” She said with a toss of her head.
He spun around to face her. “You’d deny me? When you won’t let me touch you?”
His scowl was making her heart beat faster. Yet when she opened her mouth to reply he interrupted. “Think before you speak, miss. I want you, I’ve not had a woman in weeks and look at me! Does this look like I can stop it?”
Linna rocked in place. She knew exactly what he was referring to. He couldn’t hide his arousal. It wasn’t possible he was of the same species as Luthor Evans or even Drake. He was much too immense...in every sense of the word.
He was going to have her, by force if necessary. He was going to finish what they’d begun this night. If she didn’t give him permission to see others, she was going to lose the bargain before it was made as well as her innocence.
“Very well, Raoul.” She said it with a throat that choked the words off. “I agree. You may visit other women...when you—you...the um...need...becomes too great.”
“What?”
His lips had curled into a semi-snarl. Linna’s head pulled back despite her every effort to the contrary.
“If you need a—a...well, that sort of thing...with a-another woman, then...I’ll not stop you.” She almost got all of it out before he reacted.
His hissed curse was especially loud as he launched across the tabletop at her, sending them both over the other side.
Raoul swiveled just before they hit, taking the brunt of the fall. The jolt still jarred her as much as the man beneath her did, mauling her neck and chin with his mouth. Linna had hers open to scream then remembered that she couldn’t. She couldn’t struggle. She couldn’t react. She’d made a pact. She tried to shut her mind to it. She slammed her eyes shut and vowed to keep them that way. Then she was searching for that numb state she’d found when her perfectly ordered and structured life had first started falling apart.
It didn’t work.
Harsh breathing filled her ears and the heat grew apace with it. Large hands moved down her back, past her buttocks, separating her thighs and moving her into a position he must want then making certain of it by propping her into a sitting position. Linna was swaying in place and had to lock her knees to keep from keeling over. She wasn’t touching the floor. She didn’t even know where it was. She was straddling his waist to stay astride him, bearing the intense fire of him through her petticoat and the fine linen of her pantaloons; reeling with that sensation, stunned by the intimacy, and doing her best to ignore how her palms were tingling from being in contact with his chest.
He started moving his hands again, shifting them in spurts of motion up her arms...to her shoulders, while her heartbeat accompanied each gesture as if bidding him onward. Linna barely kept from shoving him away when as he reached the little bustles of her sleeves. And then he was trying to force them down.
She slit her eyes open and froze. There was a snarl across his face, a glint of moisture coating what she could see of his eyes, and nothing else. He might as well be an animal. Linna’s eyes went wider. Her back stiffened and nothing on her felt anything except locked into position. He was still pulling at her sleeves, not realizing he had to untie the bow between her shoulder blades. She felt the ribbon raise a welt across her back as he kept stretching it until it ripped free.
Linna heard the sound, felt the air, and started shaking. Realms of shivers flew down her, coating her skin with what she recognized was fear. She turned her face away, clenched her teeth, and fought the emotion. Linna Daniels feared no man! She never had and she wasn’t starting now. She’d bargained for what he wanted. And that was all he was going to get.
“What is it?” The voice matched the snarl.
Linna shook her head.
“Avoidance isn’t what we bargained for, lady,” he rasped.
“And...ravishment is?” she whispered the answer.
He sucked in air so viciously, she fell into the well of his abdomen with it. And then he let it out, making her rise again. Linna kept her hands right where they were on his upper chest, where she could feel parts of him tensing and shifting. Still. Her palms were itching from the contact. That was odd. She’d committed herself to numbness and was usually very good at reaching it.
He went to a sitting position, moving more ribbons of muscle against her inner thighs, then he was standing and taking her with him. Linna kept her face averted, her jaw tightly clenched, and chased the numb feeling back into existence. She knew he had her in his arms, felt the strange sensation of being carried as he walked, moving soundlessly, but with a slight sway to each step. She knew where he was taking her, too...his bed. She barely felt it when she reached the mattress. She didn’t open her eyes to see any of it. She wasn’t about to face anything or anyone. No one could make her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Cord sighed heavily. The mattress moved with his weight as he joined her on it. He blew gently on the skin of her throat, watched the quick rise and fall of her bared breasts and the satisfactory tightening of their crests. He wasn’t a rapist. A soulless wretch, destined for hell - yes. That he was. But a ravisher of women? Never. Cord Larket was famous for the satisfaction he gave. Wasn’t that why he’d agreed to this in the first place?
“Linna?” He whispered it at her ear and nuzzled the skin just below her lobe. “Linna? It’s Raoul. Your lover. The man who will be your husband. The man who would never harm you. Ever. Such perfection should be tasted, relished, savored. Never taken and harmed. Linna?”
He said more nonsensical things to her until she reacted, jerking a little in response to the words. Or his breath. He made sure she felt it, as he gave each word more breath than necessary, and watched the response as it slid over temptingly bare flesh. He didn’t know which was affecting her and he didn’t care. He got the bit of satisfaction from it and put it aside until the next one. He went to his haunches beside her, reached out to move the wealth of reddish-brown hair away from her temples as he waited for her to look at him again.
She had whiskey-colored eyes just meant for getting lost in; dark, swirling, mysterious, whiskey-brown eyes. Sometimes they were a golden hue and sometimes they were dark...dark enough to drag his thoughts to a stand-still with the mesmerizing quality of them. He didn’t think she knew the power of her own gaze yet. If she did, she’d have used it already.
“As you’ve no maid at your disposal, may I be allowed to assume the position for this eve, Mademoiselle?”
Raoul asked her a question as he lifted himself from the bed. Linna watched his lips and knew he moved from the sway the mattress made as it recovered from his bulk. She just couldn’t feel anything nor hear his words.
“What?” she asked.
“You need a lady’s maid. To grant assistance. With your clothing. I’ve been told I’m a fair replacement if the need arises.”
She turned her head away. All she had to do was get through this one night - regardless of how
horrid it became, and he’d promised her freedom. Freedom from her father. Freedom from him. She’d made certain of it. That was a strengthening thought. She smiled slightly, turned back, and answered his chin.
“Very well. If you won’t…take liberties again, I’ll allow it.”
Raoul’s eyebrows rose. He executed a perfect bow, made extremely visual by the lack of upper body attire and held out his hand. She watched the play of movement beneath the skin of his chest and caught her lip between her teeth.
“I cannot undo hooks if you are lying on them, you know.” He smiled, making small creases appear beside his eyes. She swiveled away from him and lifted her hair out of his way.
Then warm fingers were playing up and down the length of her garment, seeming to fumble much more than was necessary before stilling altogether. Linna looked over her shoulder and caught the gasp. Raoul had his eyes closed and the strangest expression on his face. A half-smile hovered on his lips, showing a dimple in his cheek. Then he opened his eyes, bringing the moss-green of his into direct contact with hers. The connection stunned. Electrified. Took her breath.
“You are tres belle, Mademoiselle, but of course you already know that. Your skin resembles silk to the touch. Warm...perfectly woven silk.”
Linna flushed at the words and bowed her head to keep the hair out of his way. She had only one petticoat, her pantaloons, and a chemise beneath the dress. It was exactly what she needed for her original plan and nothing more. She had to help him remove the dress, since she was lying on it, and he wasn’t helping. In fact, his fingers were sliding over every bit of her with little intent at clothing removal.
“You wear no stays?” he asked as he rolled the petticoat into large snakes of material as he removed it from her.
“I’ve no need of them.” She thought she’d kept the note of pride from her voice, but knew she hadn’t succeeded when he chuckled. She never wore a corset. She didn’t need one. Ever. All of the Daniels maids knew it.
“Is that proper?” he asked.
She shrugged slightly. “It’s efficient and comfortable. I don’t need one, so I don’t wear one.”