by Nina Lane
“It was you, wasn’t it?” she breathed. “You told my father where to find me.”
“Only after he agreed to help you. To clear your name.”
“But why?”
“Because of Preston. Kruin and I both knew he was too jealous of you from the start. I didn’t want to send you back to your father, but I thought if anyone might keep Preston away from you, it would be him.” Gabriel’s mouth twisted. “And while I’m grateful that your father did get the authorities off your trail, I apparently underestimated Preston once too often. I should have known he—”
“No.” Lydia crossed the room to him, her heart thumping. She looked up into his face, into his beautiful eyes. “Nothing that Preston does is your fault. I knew the kind of man he was when I first contacted him asking for help. I didn’t realize the extent of his… jealousy, but everything he’s done, even now… I’d endure it all over again if it meant I’d still find you.”
Gabriel’s mouth turned up into a smile. He threaded her hair through his fingers, cupped the back of her neck and brought her mouth to his.
Lydia melted into his kiss, warmed from the inside out by the new sensations blossoming inside her, the feeling of awakening in ways she’d never before imagined.
Gabriel guided her to the bed, and though Lydia was ready for whatever he would ask or demand of her, he only stretched out fully clothed beside her.
Lydia turned onto her side to look at him, breathing in the scent of his pillow, feeling the heat of his long body. She reached out a tentative hand and placed it on his chest. Beneath the solid wall of muscle, his heart beat steady and strong.
“How did you come to be here?” she whispered. “You’ve never told me.”
He stared at the ceiling, his mouth tightening. “My mother died when I was young. I told you that.”
“Yes.”
“So it was just my father and me,” Gabriel continued. “He was controlling and very ambitious, excessively so. Money and power were all that mattered to him. He pushed me hard, and he was always angry. I was never good enough for him, never smart enough or successful enough. Three years ago when I was working for a management consulting firm, I illegally traded securities in a pathetic, desperate attempt to prove to my father that I could bring in a windfall. Needless to say, it didn’t work.”
“Did he find out?” Lydia asked.
Gabriel nodded. “The SEC got on my trail for insider trading and conspiracy. After my father beat the crap out of me, he told me to contact a man named Preston Severine and go underground. As I’d done my entire life, I followed my father’s orders. And I’ve never once looked back.”
Silence fell as Lydia processed that revelation. She realized that if Gabriel’s father hadn’t done what he did, neither of them would be here today. The thought was oddly disquieting.
As if sensing her shift in mood, Gabriel reached up to cover her hand where it lay on his chest.
“Tomorrow I think I’ll go to Australia,” he said. “Travel the outback with a pack and a walking stick. See if I can finally learn what a wallaby is.”
Lydia smiled. “I’ll go to Peru. I’ve always wanted to see Machu Picchu, so I’ll trek the Inca Trail, sleep in a tent, and drink hot tea. I’ll see the fog lifting from the ruins at dawn and then remember the sight for the rest of my life.”
Gabriel shifted to face her, and they lay looking at each other for a long time.
“Funny, isn’t it?” Lydia whispered. “That I thought this plantation was my prison, when it turned out to be the only place in the world I’ve ever felt free.”
He lifted his arm in an invitation for her to move closer. She shifted to press her body against his, closing her eyes in pleasure at the sensation of warmth and safety he never failed to create.
“The world is big.” Gabriel brushed his knuckles against her cheek. “There are other places where you would feel free. Where you would be free.”
Lydia wanted to believe him. And so, for the moment at least, she did.
CHAPTER TEN
NOT UNTIL NOW did Lydia realize how lonely, how alone, she had been. Though she was not so naïve to think she could simply hide away at La Nouvelle Vie forever, she had a new reserve of strength knowing that Gabriel had declared his allegiance to her. That he had been the one to try and protect her and, even now, would not leave her to fend for herself.
While she knew her time at La Nouvelle Vie was limited, she eased back into the rhythm of the plantation with a welcoming sense of relief. Though Gabriel hadn’t issued any direct orders since her return, she continued to keep herself shaved, slept naked, wore no underclothes beneath her billowy, soft dresses, and kept her legs parted whenever she was in his presence. She spent her time tending to her plants in the garden, reading in the book-lined library, or riding her beloved Sugarfoot, sometimes with Gabriel astride Pirate and sometimes by herself.
The wounds Preston had inflicted began to heal, and while the man himself was always in the back of her mind—all sharp, handsome features, cruel smile, cold blue eyes—as the hours passed Lydia’s fear of him lessened a bit.
On her third day, Gabriel informed her they needed to leave the following morning before Kruin was due to return. Lydia didn’t bother asking what Kruin might do if he discovered she was here. She had a sinking feeling she didn’t want to know.
She walked through the silent house, enjoying the sensation of the smooth wooden floor beneath her bare feet. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. She hadn’t often ventured into the kitchen at La Nouvelle Vie. She knew a cook prepared their meals, though in all her time there she had no idea what the woman even looked like. The kitchen door was locked at certain times of the day, during which Lydia assumed the woman was busy cooking, though she didn’t reside at the plantation.
Groceries were delivered each morning before dawn, and the cupboards and refrigerator were always stocked with sweet, ripe fruits and tempting snacks like salted nuts, chocolate-dipped pretzels, artisan cheeses, and wafer crackers laced with rosemary and olive oil.
Today Lydia hadn’t seen Gabriel since breakfast, but the wrinkled newspaper on the front table and his jacket hanging on the rack in the foyer were comforting evidence of his presence.
She opened the refrigerator and removed a block of cheddar cheese and a little pot of apricot preserves, then rummaged in the cupboard for a box of crackers. After slicing the cheese, she fixed herself a plate and added a few Swiss chocolate truffles. She decided to bring her snack to the library so she could finish the novel she was reading.
Pleased at the prospect of reading and nibbling on little delicacies, she turned to the door.
The plate slipped from her fingers and crashed to the floor.
Kruin stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders almost reaching either side of the frame, his dark eyes watching her with the precision of a laser.
Lydia brought a shaking hand to her chest. She stumbled back, shock and fear flooding her. She looked over her shoulder as if frantically seeking a means of escape. The door to the back veranda was closed and locked with a chain. If she moved fast, she might be able to…
“Stop.”
Kruin’s voice lashed her to the spot. She stared at him, her heart hammering wildly, fear mushrooming inside her as he began to approach with slow, measured steps. His hard features lacked expression, but anger burned like coal in his black eyes.
“What are you doing here?” he snapped.
“I…” Lydia’s words dried in her throat. She swallowed hard and struggled to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“I… Preston was so cruel… he… I had to get away from him.”
Kruin frowned, deep grooves appearing at the sides of his mouth. “Does your father know you’ve left?”
Lydia shook her head. “He’s away at the moment. On a… a trip to the capitol.”
His eyes narrowed. “And when he returns? What do you think he’ll do?”
&n
bsp; Lydia couldn’t respond. A knot bound her throat. They all knew exactly what her father would do. And when he came storming back to the plantation again, this time he might very well not be alone.
She closed her eyes, bringing her hands to her hot cheeks. “I’m so sorry.”
“Where is Gabriel?”
“I… I don’t know. In the stables, perhaps. Don’t… please don’t blame him. Please. He had nothing to do with me being here. I ran from my father’s house only because I found the address in his study. I… I wanted to come back.”
“And you didn’t think that Preston would be here?”
“I didn’t think at all. I just wanted to come back.”
Kruin’s gaze lashed her to the spot. A thousand thoughts swept through Lydia’s mind of all the time she’d both simultaneously feared and trusted him, craved his approval, longed to feel the certain safety of his presence.
Now she no longer knew if she was safe with him.
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Go upstairs. Now.”
An image of Gabriel flashed in Lydia’s mind. She didn’t move.
“What… what are you going to do?” she whispered.
“Go.”
The note of menace in his voice jolted her into action. Though anxiety twisted her belly at the mere thought of his intentions, she hurried past him and returned upstairs. She went to her bedroom window and pushed aside the curtain, peering out toward the stables in the distance. Through the open window, she heard the porch door bang shut, then Kruin strode through the garden toward the stables.
Lydia let the curtain fall back into place. She pressed a hand to her tight chest. Tears stung her eyes.
She could just leave again, she thought recklessly. She’d known what a risk she was taking returning to the plantation at all. But even if she left now, she likely wouldn’t spare Gabriel any of Kruin’s anger. And she had no idea how to appease Kruin herself.
Or did she?
Lydia bit her thumbnail and sat down on the edge of the bed. She couldn’t do anything until one of them came for her, but she’d learned that none of the men, not even Preston, could ever control her thoughts and ideas. They could command her obedience, her supplication, her surrender… but her mind would remain forever her own.
She waited until the sun began to sink into the horizon and paint the sky red. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that she’d been rather thwarted in her attempt to have a snack this afternoon.
Finally, a knock came at the door. Her heart leapt as Gabriel entered, pausing only to hold the door open for her. His features were uncharacteristically tense and shuttered.
“Is everything all right?” Lydia asked, her own tension ratcheting up a notch.
“He hasn’t contacted Preston yet, as far as I know,” Gabriel replied. She passed him in the doorway. He slid his hand down her lower back. “But we won’t wait around for him to do so.”
We again. Lydia’s tension eased a bit as she preceded him down the stairs.
Kruin was in the solarium, standing and looking out the windows with his broad back to the door. The table was beautifully set with white china plates and crystal, but the food hadn’t been brought out yet. Lydia paused by her chair. Kruin turned.
Lydia met his gaze steadily, even though her heart quickened in pace. Though the sense of uncertainty and fear disrupted her equilibrium, part of her rather liked the way adrenaline surged through her blood, sparking new awareness of her own body. She waited, as she always did, for Gabriel to pull her chair out for her, but he stopped on the opposite side of the table.
What…?
“Lydia.” Gabriel tilted his head toward the kitchen. “The cook has been dismissed for the evening. Would you please serve dinner?”
“Serve dinner?” Lydia swung her gaze to Kruin, who gave a short nod.
Well. This was new.
Lydia went around to the swinging door leading to the kitchen. Delicious scents swirled through the air, causing her belly to rumble anew with longing. A roasted chicken, still sizzling and popping, rested in a serving dish on the central island, accompanied by baby potatoes, asparagus spears, and buttermilk biscuits. Lydia started to lift the platter of chicken when her gaze fell on the red checkered apron lying on the counter.
Her heart flip-flopped. The apron hadn’t been left there carelessly. It was spread out neatly, the skirt folded at the edges, the strings coiled. A white ruffle lined the hem and scooped bodice.
Lydia knew.
She knew exactly what Kruin wanted her to do. And perhaps, if she did so to his rigorous standards, she might forestall any intentions he had to inform Preston or her father of her whereabouts. At least, she could try. And hope.
Still, her hands trembled as she picked up the apron and went to a corner of the kitchen. She took off her shoes and dress, casting a quick glance at the closed kitchen door. Her naked body tingled at the brush of air. Her pulse beat a heavy, hot rhythm through her blood. She slipped the apron over her head and tied the strings around her back. The scalloped hem fell to mid-thigh, providing her with some degree of modesty, but the small, ruffled bodice barely concealed the swell of her generous breasts. And she didn’t need a mirror to know her bottom was completely bare.
She yanked at the bodice, suddenly doubting her ability to carry through with this. She would never become accustomed to such acts of audacious provocation, unable as always to prevent the burn of embarrassment from flushing her pale skin. Her stomach roiled with nervousness at the thought of the two men seeing her like this. She couldn’t possibly…
“Lydia.” Kruin’s deep voice echoed through the walls.
With a start, she hurried to fetch the chicken platter, painfully aware of the caress of the dangling ribbons against her backside and the undeniable dampness collecting between her legs. She hurried to the door on bare feet, her belly tightening with anxiety. Leaning her shoulder against the door, she pushed it open.
She felt the weight of the men’s gazes. All the breath escaped her lungs. Her blush deepened to crimson. She balanced the platter with one hand and tugged at her bodice with the other, the swells of her breasts rising like pillows from the top and overflowing from the sides. Already her nipples were taut, tenting the heavy cotton, and the cooler air of the solarium caused gooseflesh to rise on her skin.
Gripping the platter, she moved to place it on the table, unable to look at either man as she backed toward the kitchen again.
When Gabriel cleared his throat, she glanced at him from beneath lowered lashes. He made a gesture with his hand that was unmistakable in its command. Lydia swallowed hard, forcing herself to look at Kruin. He was still standing beside the window, his arms crossed across his broad chest, his eyes hot as coals.
Her heart thumped as she turned, displaying the little red bow perched atop her rounded buttocks, the folds of the apron skirt framing her shapely legs and the curves of her hips. A shiver rippled over her skin. She felt their masculine gazes sweeping across her half-naked body, felt herself responding with the unstoppable rhythm of an ocean tide.
Gabriel moved closer, his breath heavier, and then his hand skimmed across the curve where her bottom met her lower back. The now-familiar touch of his palm eased some of her anxiety, but Kruin’s presence alone was enough to keep her on edge. She curled her fingers into her palms and willed herself to do everything within her power to please him.
And she knew, deep in the core of her being, that if there was anything Kruin respected, it was obedience.
She gathered her courage and looked over her shoulder at him. Her knees went weak at the sight of his burning dark eyes, the coiled strength of his powerful body, the huge bulge pressing against the front of his trousers.
Lydia turned and went back into the kitchen, trembling all over as she returned with the serving bowls filled with potatoes and asparagus, then the plate of steaming biscuits. Once she had everything on the table, she took the utensils and began distributing the food onto the
men’s plates.
She was painfully, shockingly aware of how the little apron barely contained her curves. Her breasts swayed with every movement, and her legs rubbed together whenever she took the slightest step. At least the apron skirt was long enough to cover her mons, but when she leaned across the table for Gabriel’s plate, it flared out and exposed her anew.
Flushing, Lydia yanked down the skirt with one hand and spooned a large portion of potatoes onto the plate. When both plates had been sufficiently filled, she stepped back, still fidgeting with her skirt.
“Um… will there be anything else?” she whispered.
“Your plate,” Kruin said, nodding toward her own empty plate.
Lydia moved to fill her plate with small portions and then, at Kruin’s order, took her seat. Her bare behind made contact with the soft cushion of her chair. She winced a little. Though her face still flamed, her embarrassment lacked the unpleasant edge of humiliation she always experienced at Preston’s hands. This was disconcerting, to be sure, but there was no denying the firefly-flickers of heat and excitement burning low in her belly.
Though her hunger for food had dissipated, she managed to eat a few bites and drink a glass of wine that Gabriel poured for her. The warmth of his occasional glances from across the table eased any lingering fear, for she knew that no matter what Kruin intended to subject her to, Gabriel would never allow him to cross a certain line. And despite not knowing Kruin’s intentions, Lydia still held to some thread of trust in him, the knowledge that he wouldn’t hurt her the way Preston had.
When the men had finished their dinner, Lydia pushed back her chair so she could rise and bring their plates to the kitchen.
“You needn’t do that right now,” Kruin said, his voice both gruff and edged with burgeoning lust.
Lydia’s breath caught as she watched him move to a wing-backed chair by the window. A rush of anticipation swept over her so suddenly that she was caught off-guard. All these weeks, all those horrible days with Preston… It had been so natural and easy to think of Gabriel as a source of longing and comfort, but her memories of Kruin had often been laced with apprehension.
