Flame
Women Betrayed Series
Book 3
By
Award Winning, Best Selling Author
Margaret Tanner
Flame
Women Betrayed Series
Copyright © 2018 Margaret Tanner
Thank you for downloading this e-book. It remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial use without permission from the author and publisher. Quotes used in reviews are the exception. No alteration of content is allowed. If you enjoy this book, then please encourage your friends to purchase their own copy.
This story is a work of fiction, and some literary license has been taken regarding setting. All characters are a figment of the author’s imagination.
Please Note: This story was previously part of The Soiled Doves series, which, by mutual consent of the authors involved, has been disbanded. I have revised Tess and she now forms part of my Women Betrayed Series.
Cover Art by Susan Horsnell
Acknowledgement: Thank you Susan Horsnell and Cheryl Wright for your on-going help and support.
Heat Level: Adult themes, mild sexual content.
Chapter One
South Dakota 1870’s
Present time, Mason Falls, ten miles from Yankton.
“You harlot.” The strident tones of the woman as much as the words stopped Laura Prentice in her tracks. She nearly dropped a tray of cakes on the floor of Ye Old English Tea House.
Her hands flew to her face and she gasped in shock as pieces of rotten fruit splattered down the front of her gown. The faces in the crowd were contorted with hatred, and Laura nearly collapsed in fear. She gritted her teeth to stop from falling into a shivering heap in the doorway. Frantically she gazed around for help, none was forthcoming.
“She’s not fit to mix with God fearing folk,” screamed a woman dressed in brown.
“We should tar and feather her. Run her out of town,” screeched another.
The crowd was growing, pushing to get inside the shop. Laura knew she couldn’t show fear or they would be on her like a pack of rabid dogs.
Thank goodness. She almost collapsed with relief as the sheriff strode up, his badge glistening in the sunlight, his spurs clinking. His young deputy scurried along a few paces behind him.
“What in tarnation is going on?” He pushed his way through the crowd. “Who started this ruckus?”
“She did, Flame, the filthy harlot. Even the name is an abomination,” the woman in brown yelled.
“Move on,” the sheriff ordered. “See that they do,” he instructed his deputy who immediately complied.
“Now, miss.” He followed a trembling Laura into the dining area of the tea house and slammed the door. “What’s this all about?”
“I don’t know, Sheriff, they just came up and started screaming abuse.” She blinked back tears. Dare she tell him the whole sordid tale?
“Those sanctimonious old biddies from the Temperance Society have appointed themselves the keepers of the town’s morality. What in tarnation did you do to get them so riled up?”
“I don’t really know any of them, a couple may have come in here for tea and cake when my mother was here, but I’m not sure. What are you going to do?”
“They haven’t really done anything, so all I can do is disperse them.”
“What about the rotten fruit they threw at me?” She glanced at her stained gown.
“Did you see who actually threw it?”
“No.”
“Well, I’m sorry. My advice is close your shop up for a couple of days until they get rid of the burrs under their saddle blankets.
“Thank you.” Weak with shock she staggered back as he took a couple of paces toward the door before swinging around.
“Make sure you lock everything up. I’ll keep an eye on the place when I do my nightly rounds.”
“Thank you.” She waited until he strode off then did as he instructed, checked the windows and securely bolted the front door. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She and her mother had lived in rooms at the back of the shop, and now her mother had left she had thought to make a comfortable living for herself. Would have, had the hand of fate not been raised against her.
Her life lay in ruins. She had to get out of town. Go far away. Someone must have recognized her as Flame, a whore from the Gold Anchor. A customer maybe? Alex? If only she had ordinary colored hair she could have melded in with everyone, but her ginger curls stood out like a beacon.
She slumped on a chair, folded her arms across her chest and rocked from side to side. Flame, she had never thought to ever hear that name again. Why didn’t she pack up and go the moment she arrived home, which had been her original plan? Obviously, she hadn’t got far enough away from Alex’s reach.
****
Three months earlier - Yankton
Laura wandered to a narrow foot bridge and stared into the fast flowing Missouri River. She should be sad because her mother and her new husband had departed on the paddle steamer on the first leg of their journey back to England. She had invited Laura along, so as not to look bad in the eyes of her new husband. Behind his back, Mother mouthed the words, “I don’t want you coming with us; you can have the shop.”
She much preferred to stay here and continue running the English tea house Mother had started after deserting Pa and her when she was eight years old. After Pa died when she was fifteen, her mother, Eliza Prentice, had turned up for the funeral and ordered Laura to leave the ranch and return to Yankton with her. As it turned out she hadn’t done it out of love, but for free labor. They made an adequate, rather than rich living baking English pies and pastries from secret recipes handed down through generations on her mother’s side.
I should be more upset about Mother leaving, but I’m not, and it would be hypocritical to pretend I was.
Eliza had been a cold, haughty woman. Never cruel, unless leaving your husband and child for no good reason, and grudgingly taking that child in when her father died, was cruelty.
At seventeen, Laura was well and truly able to continue cooking and serving their customers on her own. The only decent thing her mother did do, was pass on all her baking skills and recipes. She leaned on the railing and peered into the water. How dark it looked even in the afternoon sun.
A drunken man stumbled along singing loudly. Glancing around, she didn’t see anyone else. It had been foolish daydreaming out here alone, instead of returning to the cheap hotel room she had booked for the night. The drunk swayed, lurched forward and she felt a sudden, hard push in the back. Screaming, she tumbled into the river. Water filled her mouth as she surfaced spluttering and choking.
“Help! Help!” Her desperate pleas echoed hollowly in her ears as she struggled to make it back to shore. The current was strong and kept pushing her along as she fought to survive, no easy task with a skirt and petticoats weighing her down, pressing her deeper into the murky depths.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, she grabbed at an overhanging tree branch, the shock of taking the weight of her body almost ripping her arms out of their sockets. “Help! Help!”
****
Where the hell had Samuel been all this time? And how dare a mere servant yell out like that. Alex Trembath strode from his study. He skidded to a halt in the vaulted hallway. His man was dripping wet and he carried a girl in his arms. She was drenched also.
“I pulled her out of the river, boss.”
The girl was fully clothed, her gown ripped and dirty. Like liquid fire, her long red hair trailed over Samuel’s arm.
“Take her to the kitchen,” he ordered. If she hadn’t been such a beauty he wouldn’t have bothered following them, but he couldn’t resist
the urge to gaze upon this beauty’s naked body.
Samuel laid the girl on the scrubbed kitchen table. “Get your own clothes off before you catch a chill,” Alex ordered. As Samuel stripped off his sodden jacket and bent down to pull off his pants, Alex glanced at his back, the criss-crossing scars and puckered skin bore testament to the numerous severe whippings he had received as a plantation slave many years ago.
“Get something to dry her with.”
The girl was unconscious, little wonder with a huge bump on her forehead. Her gown and undergarments were ruined so Alex ripped them off and tossed them on the floor. Her skin was white, smooth as the finest porcelain, her breasts high and tight, crowned with dusky pink nipples.
Samuel returned with towels, he snatched them out of his servant’s hands and started drying the girl. Not a girl, she was a young woman, seventeen or so, if he was any judge. She whimpered and her eyes flickered open. He had never seen such a brilliant green before.
It had been a long time since he’d seen such an exquisite young woman. He dried her hair first, lifting the gossamer strands up before dropping them. They tumbled over her shoulders and splayed out over her chest. Carefully he patted her body dry with the towel, lifting up her breasts, rubbing the nipples until the pale ruby buds burst forth from their dusky areolas. Squatting down he slid the towel up her legs. He was shocked to notice a tremor in his hands by the time he reached her inner thigh.
She was awake now, glancing around with fear filled eyes.
“What’s your name?”
He got a blank green eyed stare. “I…I don’t know,” she said in a soft melodic voice.
“What!”
“Where am I?”
“At my home, I’m Alex Trembath.” Bastard son of Lord Trengowey and an English tavern wench, he could have said, but didn’t. Hatred rose up in his breast every time he thought of the injustice perpetrated on his mother.
“I’ll call you Flame, because of your beautiful red hair.” He had never seen such a color before. It looked as if it was on fire. Alex chuckled at his own ingenuity.
Taking one last look at Flame’s naked loveliness he wrapped a blanket around her trembling body before lifting her off the table. She looked so little and fragile something from deep within him, some latent spark of decency, stopped him from treating her like the whore she probably was.
“Would you like something to drink?” He snapped his fingers at Samuel, who hurried over with a mug of hot milk.
“You get about your chores now then you’re free for the rest of the evening,” Alex said. “I’ll look after her now.”
“Yes, boss.”
Alex swung the girl up into his arms, grabbed a lantern and strode upstairs to his bedroom and dropped her naked on to the large double bed.
She made no move to cover herself, and by the lamplight he feasted on her unblemished nakedness.
She lay on her back with her hair spilling out like liquid fire across his pillow. Her thighs were parted, her auburn curls burnished in the lamplight. He got a tantalizing glimpse of a rosy bud shyly peeping out from her womanly hood. He leaned over to claim her lips, something he would not normally do with a whore, however, this girl was different; to save his life he could not have denied himself.
“No.” She shook her head from side to side. “Please, no.”
Alex didn’t know why he pulled back. She was a prize too precious to lose by being impatient. What an asset she would be to his Gold Anchor saloon. His patrons would go crazy for her.
She had no experience he quickly realized, but once he trained her in the art of pleasuring men, Flame would bring in many customers and a lot of money.
Curb your impatience, man, win her trust and affection then you can mold her into anything you want.
He didn’t know why women found him attractive, really didn’t care. Perhaps it was the upper-class English accent he had cultivated. He had never let his days as a sailor show in the way he spoke. Women quickly fell for the English gentleman pose, which he had perfected.
No, the prize of Flame’s virginity was too precious to ruin by being impatient. A few days of cosseting and pampering and she would fall into his hands like ripe fruit.
****
Alex put his plans into action immediately. She was shivering, so he stripped off his clothes and climbed into bed with her. She baulked as he gathered her in his arms.
“Don’t be afraid, I would never hurt anyone as beautiful as you. The heat from my body will warm you up.”
He stroked her back with gentle fingers until the trembling subsided. “Tell me what you can remember about your life.”
“I can’t remember who I am,” her voice wavered, “or why I was in the water.”
“Never mind, my sweet, your memory will return once the shock wears off.”
****
For three days, Alex spent nearly every minute with Flame, day and night. When he had to leave, he ordered Samuel to watch over her. No-one else knew she was here and that’s the way he wanted it. He needed her to become dependent on him, relying on him and only him. It was working too. He watched the way her eyes followed him. How her sweet mouth curved in a smile for him.
She curled her body trustingly into his now as he held her naked in his arms each night. He hadn’t let her dress except for a diaphanous, almost see-through gown when they shared a meal.
****
Flame was sitting in Alex’s parlor, when he strode in. “Well, my pet, how are you feeling now?”
Alex looked so grand, a real English gentleman, in dark pants with a braided side seam, his white shirt covered by a blue cutaway coat. He wore twin holsters with ebony handled guns.
“Tomorrow if you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you shopping for a complete new wardrobe of clothes. I can’t let any other man see you in this flimsy garment, it shows off too much of your beautiful body. I’ll get Samuel to borrow a gown for you to wear when we go out. His sister is about your size.”
“You’ve been so kind to me Alex, I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, I enjoyed doing things for you. I think I’m in love with you.” He played his trump card. “I never thought I’d ever find a woman I wanted to wed.”
“Oh, Alex.” She jumped up from the chair and flung herself in his arms. “I love you so much.”
“That’s good. Maybe later you can show me how much?”
She gave him a puzzled glance, then delicate red tinged her cheeks.
Like taking candy from a baby he thought. His charm offensive had obviously worked. After tonight she would be his in every sense of the word, body and soul, she would belong to him.
****
That night in bed, her lips were soft and tremulous as he forced them apart with his thrusting impatient tongue. Her body stiffened, so he calmed her with soft words. His mouth worked against hers, his hand went to her breast; he pinched her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and gently laved it into a flowering peak. He started suckling her other nipple, drawing it deep into his mouth. She tasted so good he was reluctant to move his lips further down her porcelain skin.
Denying himself, building up his need until he teetered on the brink, he licked and suckled, stroked and caressed his way down her body. Finally, he nudged her thighs apart.
“No! No!” she cried out.
It was too late, he was already inside her. Having bedded many women in his thirty-five years on earth, he had never seen or tasted such perfection. He moved slowly, rhythmically, letting her take him into this cave of pleasure a little at a time, until his desire built up to a mighty crescendo of need and pure unadulterated lust. Suddenly, his control snapped and he drove into her deepest recesses. Her body shuddered and he heard a cry of pain as he took Flame’s virginity.
He glanced into her face. Her cheeks were damp with tears, her eyes dark and shattered. For the first time in his life he almost felt remorse for something he had done.
>
Rocking her gently, he licked her tears away. She rested a damp cheek against his bare chest, curling her body so trustingly into his he despised himself for the rampant desire raging through him once more.
“You hurt me,” she said in a soft wavering voice, as she stroked his chin with a smooth, dainty hand.
“There’ll be no pain next time, my pet, only rapture.” What a pleasure it was going to be to teach her all the delights of the flesh.
****
Alex awoke next morning and propped himself up on one elbow to gaze into the face of the girl lying beside him. An ugly bruise on her forehead from her fall into the river had faded. Her long golden lashes rested on cheeks that were now grazed from the roughness of his beard stubble, because he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days. There were sooty smudges under her eyes, and the skin, stretched over her cheekbones, had the texture of polished white marble.
He flung the bed covers back and shook her awake.
Dazed from sleep, she gazed at him with beautiful, haunted eyes.
“I want you again.” With a feral growl, he reached for her. Once his passion was spent, he pushed himself away and climbed out of bed.
Even before he reached down and rolled her over he knew she was crying and upset with the savage, contemptuous way he had taken her.
“Why?” she asked brokenly.
“Because my little whore, you’re here to pleasure me, and when I’m finished with you, you’ll be servicing men at the Gold Anchor saloon.”
No! No! Only you.”
He dragged on his clothes and strode out of the room. She would have to get used to being treated with contempt by his customers. They paid high prices for women and expected their money’s worth.
In the kitchen Samuel was preparing breakfast.
“Good morning, boss. You hungry?”
Alex sat down, leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. He didn’t care whether Flame got her memory back or not. It suited him better if she didn’t, easier to manipulate her.
Flame Page 1
