Surrender to Love

by Rosemary Rogers

  In the end it was Nicholas who broke, almost compulsively, the strangely tautening silence between them. “Why are you really here, I wonder?” It sounded more like a question he asked of himself; and when Alexa did not answer immediately he gave an indifferent shrug and reached sideways to pour wine for himself first before directing an unreadable glance at her and refilling her glass too—handing it to her and almost forcing her to take it.

  She watched him suspiciously as he held his glass up to catch the light before he drank at least half its contents in one swallow and set it down with a sarcastic question. “Is there something wrong with the wine that makes you afraid to drink it?”

  Flushing angrily at the inference he had made, Alexa drank almost as much as he had before looking back at him defiantly; knowing, even as she did so, that she would be much better off to leave at once while she still retained some control over the anger he always seemed able to provoke her to. “There!” she said with as much coldness as she could muster, and could not stop herself from adding, “Although I cannot possibly imagine why you should suddenly imagine that your wine might be either poisoned or drugged. What a ridiculous thought!”

  “I must confess to being an inordinately suspicious and doubting individual,” he said with one of his twisted smiles that more closely resembled a sneer. “In fact, I was forced to realize quite early in my life that most people and things are not what they appear to be on the surface— and that hard-earned knowledge has even saved my life on occasion. But in spite of rather priding myself on being quite a good judge of human character and motivation, I have to admit that you succeed in puzzling me somewhat. Or was that your intention all along?”

  “And now you really are being ridiculous!” Alexa said heatedly as she replaced her glass on the table with such careless haste that she knocked over his glass as well as hers, breaking one of them and spilling wine everywhere while she felt like crying with vexation.

  “Oh! Oh, now look what you have made me do!” She would have leapt from the bed if he hadn’t restrained her with a swift movement that took her so completely by surprise that she sprawled almost on top of him, with her face far too close to his for her comfort.

  Alexa’s first and purely instinctive reaction was to escape, but the movement she made only made his arm tighten about her waist to keep her an unwilling prisoner while his voice said harshly: “You stupid, thoughtless female! There are splintered shards of glass everywhere and you are barefooted. Unless you meant to have your feet cut and bleeding as a form of penance?” And then he growled almost threateningly, “Stop your wriggling about, dammit! Unless of course it’s meant to be an inducement? Even if it is, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until I’ve had a few direct answers from you. I’ve made myself clear, I hope?”

  None of the angry retorts she had been aching to let fly at him would emerge from Alexa’s suddenly dry throat when she was forced to meet those hard green eyes of his by the deceptively gentle pressure of his fingers under her chin, fingers which then uncurled to cup her face and caress her cheek rather absently in a fashion that made her long to jerk her head away. “Good!” he said with infuriating satisfaction in a tone that indicated that he took her meek submission for granted, adding on a note of pretended solicitude, “But perhaps you are not quite comfortable as you are? I would not want your pretty neck to become stiff while we have our conversation, even if I am such a brute.” And then, without any warning, he changed positions, taking her with him as he moved, so that she lay helplessly on her back with one of his legs thrown over her to keep her so while his fingers touched her face again and he said softly, “I wonder that your husband gives you such freedom and allows you to keep such late hours! Unless you manage to keep him drugged when it’s convenient for you, the poor deluded man!”

  No, I will not humiliate myself by struggling against his superior strength in a vain effort to get free, Alexa thought before she said with as much contempt as she could muster, “I only wish you would ask me these questions of yours that will not wait, and then set me free! And I will not answer any I consider too personal, or no concern of yours, not even if you...”

  “Oh, but I can assure you that I have no intentions of resorting to torture, if that was what you were thinking of,” he broke in derisively. “And as for setting you free, I do not recall having invited you here in the first place, you fire-haired bruja! Nor do I remember begging you to stay when you left earlier. Which brings me to the same question you have cleverly managed to evade each time I’ve asked it so far. Why did you choose to find me tonight? And how did you know I was here? No, don’t look away like a cowardly bitch. Answer me, damn you; and then you can go, if that’s still what you want—to hell, for all I care!”

  His fingers were suddenly as cruel as his contemptuous words, as they twisted thick strands of her hair into a rope that kept her head still and almost forced a cry of pain from her before she remembered her pride and bit her lip instead, her eyes shooting sparks of hate at him. “And if I do not choose to give you any answers?” she flared defiantly, even while she wondered if he would tug the hair from her scalp in retaliation as his eyes narrowed in a wickedly speculative way that almost made her shudder.

  Bracing herself for the worst, Alexa sucked in her breath and instinctively squeezed her eyes shut without meaning to do so. What would he do to her now? The very last thing she had expected was to hear him laugh softly and (to her ears) dangerously. “Why, then, I suppose I will have to draw my own conclusions, and especially as to why you seem so afraid to answer a perfectly reasonable question. Why indeed are you here? In the first place, obviously because you wanted to be, although I don’t wish to sound too conceited. But since you persist in being stubborn—or could it be shyness by some chance?—perhaps there is another way of finding out...”

  Alexa felt his breath warmly against her face in the instant before he kissed her—unexpectedly, unfairly and quite ruthlessly, with no regard whatsoever for her feelings or the efforts she made to fend him off by pounding at his shoulders with her fists and trying to tear his hair out when that did not have any effect. Of course she must have struggled and fought against him until all her strength was expended! Why would she not have? Unless she had forced herself into calculated acquiescence when she remembered what she had meant to achieve by leading him on until he was all but driven crazy with desire for her, and then... Whatever it was she planned to do at that point, it seemed obvious that a pretended response to his kiss was quite in keeping with her plans and really much easier than continuing with a pointless struggle. Having made her decision with a feeling of relief, Alexa gave a sigh and allowed herself to yield, even going so far as to slip her hands under the embroidered Chinese robe he wore to touch his back and cling to his shoulders while his kiss, which had been relentlessly harsh and almost punishing at first, had suddenly turned into a whole barrage of kisses that explored her parted lips and every inch of her face— lingering over her temples and her ears and even her closed eyelids before concentrating on her mouth again, first lightly and then demandingly until she felt so strangely weak and breathless that she could not protest against anything he was doing—neither the kisses nor the way he tore her thin muslin gown apart from bodice to hem with a savage kind of impatience before his hand began its slow and almost teasing caressing of her flesh in a fashion she remembered only too well.

  How and when had he begun to control what was taking place between them? Why had she not been more assertive from the beginning, using every trick and stratagem that she had learned recently with deliberate calculation while remaining quite detached herself? Alexa tried almost desperately to cut herself off from feeling and reaction to the insidiously treacherous encroachment of his hands as they roved all too surely and familiarly over her body by forcing her own hands to explore with equal boldness the length of his back and from there along his smoothly muscled thighs until she found the proof she sought. He did desire her after all, in spite o
f everything he had said to the contrary. And he would want her even more desperately when she touched him in certain ways and held him as she did now. She became slightly less unsure of herself when she felt his immediate reaction and the tensing of his body against hers. Only for moments; and then, with a decisive moment that shocked her with its suddenness, he freed himself from her and sat up, caressing one of her breasts quite casually while he first drank wine straight from the bottle and then held it out to her with a questioning lift of an eyebrow. “No?” he said in an overly pleasant voice, adding almost on the heels of that, “But perhaps you prefer to enjoy your wine in a more imaginative and adventurous fashion? Lie still, mi querida. It’s only a little cold by now...”

  Alexa gasped when he tilted the bottle and she felt the chill liquid trickle from her navel down to the vee of her parted thighs; and she gasped again when he bent his head, and his lips and tongue traced the wetness left by the wine until they had found where she was most sensitive, lingering mere even when she cried out for him to stop...no...she didn’t want...she did not...

  “But you know that you do, little liar. Why continue to deny what you feel?” He looked up at her mockingly before he bent his head again; and this time, knowing she was completely lost to reason, Alexa pressed the back of one hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming out loud—or begging him quite shamelessly not to stop what he was doing, not now, not yet, while it was just starting to happen to her. When he did stop she heard herself moan and heard him laugh—a short, ragged laugh that was not a real laugh at all before he swung his body to lie along the length of hers and poured the last of the wine over himself, his harsh, whispered words to her both promise and threat at the same time.

  “I think you know already that this is only the first of the many times and the many ways in which I mean to have you, sea witch...for all that I wish I did not want you at all!”

  “And I too,” she whispered back before she caught him against herself and took him in the same way he was taking her again, without calculation or detachment, and in fact without making any attempt at all to force herself into thinking more rationally and sanely merely because that was what she should do. What she wanted, at this very moment, was exactly what was happening—the combined pleasures of both giving and receiving, heightening and intensifying every feeling and carrying her higher and higher still until she suddenly reached the highest pinnacle of all and stayed poised there for only moments before she let herself burst into a million star-fragments that floated very slowly and unwillingly back down to earth and the reality she did not want to wake up to yet. Oh please, not yet! Not until she’d had enough time to prepare herself for it! Still in a kind of daze, her eyes closed, Alexa was only half-aware of his movement of withdrawal until she felt the hard urgency of his hands on her thighs, parting them and holding them captive until he had positioned himself between them.

  And then, before she had quite realized what he was about, it was already too late for protests. Her eyes flying open and dilating, Alexa felt a sharp, stabbing sensation that made her hips jerk involuntarily as she tried to escape; and over her own choked cry of pain she heard him swear harshly before his hands moved up from her writhing hips to hold her wrists pinioned.

  “No! Stop it, you’re hurting me! You were not supposed to... I didn’t know it hurt this much! You brute, let me go!”

  Alexa glared up at him, eyes swimming with tears as she continued to struggle, until he brought his face down to hers and said between his teeth: “I’m in no mood to ask you for explanations now, you cheating little tease, but you might just as well get it through your head that since the damage is already done you might just as well decide to make the best of it! I certainly intend to!” And with that unfeeling pronouncement he continued to ignore both her abusive epithets and her entreaties as he took full advantage of her helplessness, his movements slow and deliberate at first and almost teasing until Alexa could have screamed aloud with frustration and hate.

  Afterwards she could not recall exactly when or how everything had changed. Was it at the time she suddenly realized that there was no more pain? Or after he had begun to kiss her breasts? Or when he slid one hand between their bodies to touch her in certain ways that made her catch her breath and arch herself even closer to him, beginning actually to want him even deeper inside her—to want him; meeting his kisses fiercely and moving with him until she felt it begin to happen for her again and her body began to shudder and she cried out without words at first and then his name, clasping him against herself even harder when she knew it was happening for him too.

  What did how or when matter in any case? Drowsily content, Alexa lay snuggled against him with her lips against his shoulder and one leg over his, making murmuring sounds in her throat that were almost like purrs as his fingers stroked the length of her back and her thighs. She had thought she hated him for a little while but she didn’t now. Ah, she didn’t even want to think at this moment, only to go on feeling, without words or thoughts getting in the way.

  Chapter 29

  Alexa had not meant to fall asleep. She remembered deciding that she would stay only as long as he did not destroy the new and strangely tenuous mood that held them both silent, and would leave quietly as soon as he slept. Hadn’t she been told, after all, that men usually tended to sleep heavily once they had expended themselves? Perhaps it had been the warmth of the room and his body next to hers, the strangely soothing, sweetish scent of incense smoke curling up from the braziers. Or had it been something other than incense that had lulled her into a sleep that was almost insensibility?

  “My lord, my lord, you know that I would not normally burst in on you in this fashion, but you must come at once, or there is likely to be a particularly ugly scandal that will certainly ruin us all! Only you might succeed in talking sense to the Marquess! Please, I beg you to hurry!”

  Orlanda? Could that possibly be Orlanda’s voice? And what on earth had she been talking of in such agitated tones? Alexa wanted to wake up to find out what it was all about, and yet at the same time she felt as if it was too much trouble and would rather have continued to dream her pleasant dreams in peace.

  She heard a harsh masculine voice she recognized all too well snarling oaths in Spanish and English and French as he demanded in turn where in hell his damned clothes were and why he was the only man who could stop Newbury from insanity? Newbury? Blinking her eyes determinedly, Alexa said in a sleep-fogged voice: “What on earth is happening and why is everyone making so much noise?‘” She wondered rather indignantly why he was already up and half-dressed when she was not and why he gave her such a darkly brooding, almost hateful kind of look before he ordered her to go back to sleep and wait for him because he had not finished with her yet, by any means!

  “And let me remind you again that if you’re foolish enough to try leaping out of bed in your usual impetuous fashion, you’ll probably cut your feet badly enough to bleed to death!”

  “But, Orlanda? Didn’t I hear you say...”

  Adding to her growing feelings of frustration and rage, Alexa saw that even Orlanda, whom she had considered a Mend and ally up to now, was acting as if she did not even exist. In fact, she was holding the door open in what appeared to be a veritable frenzy of impatience while she cried out, “For God’s sake! Even now it might be too late!” And then the door slammed heavily behind them, and Alexa found herself alone in the Chamber of True Dreams with only a man’s dragon-embroidered Chinese robe and an unfamiliar ache and stickiness between her thighs to remind her of the reality of what had taken place and how easily he had managed to turn the tables on her in spite of all her careful planning.

  It was only because he had been unscrupulous enough to use the advantage of his superior physical strength that he had managed to... No! She would not think of it yet; nor would she lie here on these silk sheets that were disgustingly stained now with her own blood. Go back to sleep and wait for him indeed! And what else had he
had the audacity to add? He wasn’t finished with her, indeed! Just as if she’d been some common prostitute he’d paid in advance for services he did not consider fully rendered yet! Well, she would make sure he received an unpleasant shock when he returned to an empty smoke-filled room, an empty blood-stained bed, and—an Accounting for the night which would include the extra charge that was normally asked for a virgin.

  If she had dared stay longer, how much she would have enjoyed doing so, if only in order to see his face when he received it! But the sky had already begun to turn pink and all the usual early morning clattering and creaking of farmers delivering their produce and tradesmen preparing to open their businesses had already begun, making Alexa feel relieved that she had thought to arrive at the Temple of Venus in one of the plainest unmarked carriages owned by her friends. And even so she was still running the risk of being seen and recognized in spite of her hat and veil— arriving at the villa at this hour of the morning. How Bridget would scold and shake her head dolefully; but perhaps there would be no one else awake to see her—and Perdita had already assured her that both the coachman and footman were perfectly discreet.

  In fact, they drove the small, closed carriage directly to the stables, from where a narrow, covered passageway led directly to one of the private side doors into the house. And Alexa had been given a key to that door....

  Within a very few minutes now she would be safely in her room, ordering her poor Bridget to draw her a hot bath in the sunken marble tub. And then she would allow herself to think about everything and to remember... particularly those half-heard words and phrases that still continued to nag at her mind. Had Nicholas’s abrupt departure, only half-dressed, and Orlanda’s unmistakable agitation, really anything to do with the Marquess of Newbury? And if so... Ah, it was easier to concentrate on some thoughts rather than others.