by Janet Dailey
"What are going to do, then? Nothing?" His voice was nearer, signaling his approach.
"I don't know." A frustrated sigh broke from her lips. She whirled to face him, her expression angry and resentful "You could go ahead and help him with none of your impossible strings attached!"
"Out of the goodness of my heart?" Rolt murmured wryly. "I want you, Alanna, by fair means or foul."
She knew the appeal was wasted even when she said it. "Did it ever occur to you that if you helped my father without any conditions, I might be so grateful that I would change my opinion of you?"
"It occurred to me," he acknowledged. "But changing your opinion is not becoming my wife. And that's what I want. I would rather know before I helped your father how grateful you're going to be."
Alanna thought she saw a small opening. She looked away so he couldn't see what she was thinking. "But if I agree to marry you, you will help my father?"
"When you marry me, I will help your father." Rolt, closed the opening with mocking emphasis.
"If my father is ruined, Rolt Matthews, it will be your fault, because you could have saved him." She didn't attempt to mask her anger now.
"No," he denied calmly. "The fault will be yours because I made the offer and you refused. I'm not to blame for what happens—you are. l barely know your father. What difference does it make to me whether he eventually finds it difficult to hold his head up among old friends? If he was my father-in-law, I might be concerned. But as a mere acquaintance, hardly."
His arrogance filled her with rage. In a lightning arc the open palm of her hand struck at his complacently etched features. The needle-sharp sting of contact had barely occurred when the guilty hand was caught in the steel vice of his fingers. The line of his jaw was tight and ominous.
"You will marry me, Alanna. You have no choice," he said in a deadly quiet voice.
"Let go of me!" She strained against his hold, trying to twist her hand free.
The pressure increased by scant degrees until Alanna was drawn closer to him to escape the ensuing pain. His strength was such that she knew he could easily snap the slender bones of her wrist. Caution dictated that his streak of ruthlessness was so wide he might do it.
She stopped struggling, her breathing deep and agitated from anger and frustration. With a defiant toss of her head, she glared her bitter dislike of him into his face.
The roughly hewn features were very close as the enigmatic glitter of his gaze studied her expression. His grip on her wrists had arched her back, pressing her hips against the hardness of his thighs. The harsh line of his mouth thinned into a cruel smile.
"I won't let you go. In time, I think you won't want me to." Again, that low, arrogant voice carried the ring of prophecy.
"No!" Alanna gasped.
His mouth moved toward hers and she turned her head away, pushing her free hand against his chest. But there was still the pain of her captured wrist to contend with and she gained a little distance. The moist warmth of his breath hotly flamed her cheeks. The frantic turning and twisting of her head succeeded in eluding his kiss until her chin was caught by iron talons.
Her lips were ground against her teeth in savage possession. Alanna resisted, fighting his assault with every ounce of her strength. More pain shot through her arm as he twisted it behind her back, arching her against his length. Her pulse thundered in her ears.
As her strength was drained by the inescapability of his embrace, her resistance became less violent. She tried to simply endure the plundering of his mouth. The involuntary submission to his kiss brought a lethal tenderness that destroyed her defenses.
Rolt took advantage of the lowered barrier, expertly parting her lips and tasting the full sweetness of her mouth. A weakness assailed her muscles, some primitive core responding to his seductive mastery, His fingers no longer bit into her chin. His hand had drifted downward to caress her shoulder.
Long and deep, he kissed her, and a languor stole through her limbs. His mouth explored her eyelids, the sweeping curve of her lashes at the corners, burning her cheek as it moved to her earlobe, and blazed an evocative trail down the soft curve of her neck. An uncontrollable shudder quivered through her—born of desire, she discovered, instead of protest, and the realization rang a bell of alarm.
With a quick wrench, she twisted herself away from the undermining caress of his lips. She stood before him, her hands pushing against his chest, an arm's length away. He held her, not attempting to eliminate the distance between them, nor allowing her to completely break away. Alanna stared into the smoldering blue of his eyes, bewildered by the response a man she disliked had aroused, and angered that it should be so.
"Confused?" Rolt questioned in soft amusement. "Didn't you think this could happen? Didn't you realize the fire of hatred could just as quickly flame into the fire of passion?"
"No," she protested.
Quiet laughter sounded in his throat. Before she could think of anything to deny the accuracy of his taunting questions, he had closed the distance and was effortlessly sweeping her off her feet and into his arms.
"Put me down!" Alanna gasped in breathless indignation.
Rolt smiled lazily. "You aren't fully convinced yet."
Oblivious to her straining attempts to be free, he carried her to the sofa. Then Alanna was sitting across his lap, the bruising ardor of his kiss once again staking ownership to her lips. Her hands pushed futilely against his chest. One accidentally slipped inside his shirt, encountering the burning heat of his skin. Fire seared through her veins at the disturbing contact, and the fragmentary resistance melted. Her will seemed to have no control over the pagan responses of her flesh.
His fingers closed around the knot of the scarf around her throat, tugged it loose and stripped it away, exposing the full length of her slender neck for his exploration. His weight pressed her backward as he investigated the ridge of her collarbone and the hollow of her throat.
The sensuous storming of her body and mind seemed without end and a traitorous part of her didn't want it to stop. A hand moved over her waist and hip in a stimulating caress. Unfastening her blouse, he slid a hand beneath the silky material.
Through the haze of erotic sensations came the remembrance of Kurt, the man she loved. She was going to marry him. What despicable kind of a woman was she to let his brother make love to her this way? It was not only her own pride and self-respect she was betraying, but Kurt as well.
As the warm touch of Rolt's mouth moved over the rounded swell of her breast, Alanna nearly lost her newly regained sense of decency and morality in the overwhelming fire of his embrace. With a last, determined effort, she rolled free of his arms and stood beside the sofa. Her shaking limbs could carry her no farther.
Rolt held her gaze with mesmerizing ease. He sat there, his legs stretched over the cushions, his back resting against an arm of the sofa. Alanna stood above him, yet he was in command. Leisurely his hand reached out, curving around the back of her knee, stroking the sensitive skin absently. A jolting quiver of awareness trembled through her.
"Please, don't do this, Rolt," Alanna whispered, completely unnerved by the overpowering physical attraction he held for her.
Fluidly swinging his feet to the floor, Rolt straightened, his hand gliding upward, briefly catching the hem of her skirt to reveal the initial curve of her thigh before the material folds hung straight once more. When he towered above her, the hand rested on her waist. Her nerve ends throbbed at his closeness. She pivoted sharply, knowing she must get away.
But his hands gripped her waist, drawing her shoulders against his chest. He buried his face in the soft tawny curls about her neck. Alanna closed her eyes against the heady wine of desire. His hands slid across her stomach, molding her against the hardness of his frame. Her fingers pushed weakly at his hands.
"No," she protested huskily. "This is crazy. It's only a physical…an animal attraction.
"But isn't it better, Alanna," he murmured against the sensitive cord in
her neck, "to know that when we're married, you won't be revolted by my touch?"
"It isn't enough," she breathed, feeling herself being swamped again by his storm, and knowing a marriage couldn't be built on lust alone.
"To start with, it is." Rolt nibbled at her ear when she twisted her neck away from the disturbing exploration of his mouth. "We'll have children and gradually a genuine fondness will grow between us."
"I don't know," Alanna sighed in confusion. She couldn't think straight, not when he was holding and caressing her the way he was.
"Believe me," he commanded,
Exerting the slightest pressure, he turned her into his arms. Like a feather caught in a whirling wind, Alanna had not the ability to dictate her own direction. She let herself be drawn into the vortex of his deepening kiss, her hands clinging to his hard shoulders to keep some measure of equilibrium.
When he finally lifted his head, she could see the light of victory glittering in his eyes. Not by word but by deed, she had involuntarily given him the answer he wanted.
But it wasn't the answer she meant to give, she didn't want to marry him. He had forced her to choose between her father and Kurt. She wanted to take back her responses to Rolt's kisses. She didn't want to choose. She wanted them both—it wasn't too late. She could change her mind—it was a woman's prerogative.
Wrenching her gaze away from his, she broke free of his loose hold and stepped past him. She squared her. shoulders, preparing in her mind the words she would speak to deny again that she would marry Rolt.
As she lifted her head, she stared directly into Kurt's face, cold with contempt. Paralyzed by the sight of him standing in the opened doorway, she was barely aware of Rolt coming to her side and sliding a supporting arm around her waist.
Kurt's gaze raked her from head to foot, lingering on the gaping front of her blouse. Instinctively her hand reached up to cover it, a fiery warmth of shame burning her cheeks. It wasn't the only part of her disheveled appearance that bore signs of Rolt's lovemaking. She wanted to curl up in a little ball and die.
"I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Kurt," Rolt said quietly. "Alanna didn't know how to tell you, I guess."
Kurt's condemning gaze didn't waver from her face. "A family thing, you said." He bitterly reminded her of the reason she had given for being unable to see him tonight. "I never guessed you meant my family."
"Kurt, please." Alanna swallowed back a sob. "I—"
He broke in, not allowing her to finish. "I would have understood if you'd told me you were seeing Rolt. I would have been jealous as hell, but I would have understood."
"I wanted to tell you," she protested.
"But you wanted to be sure you had Rolt hooked. first, is that it?" he jeered. "Why settle for the poor younger brother if you could have the rich older brother? Did you agree to marry me to force Rolt into making a similar proposal if he really wanted you as much as he claimed? Was it only an affair that he wanted in the beginning?"
"Stop it!" she cried. His poisonous arrows were inaccurate, but it didn't lessen the venom in his tone.
A chilling sound of contempt came from his throat. "Tell me, older brother—" Kurt's gaze slashed to Rolt "—are congratulations in order, or should I say condolences?"
"I've asked Alanna to marry me," Rolt admitted.
Alanna breathed in sharply. "Don't you see he's maneuvering us again, Kurt?"
"You weren't exactly unwilling, Alanna, not when I opened the door. I doubt if you ever were," he accused tightly. "And to think I believed you when you said you would show Rolt the door. You did, all right—the door to your bedroom!"
"That's not true!" Her voice lacked conviction because she guessed that Kurt must have witnessed at least part of that last kiss if not more.
"If you haven't gotten around to buying the lady—" sarcasm underlined the word " —a ring, I have one for sale cheap. It's been tried on once and guaranteed to fit. There's no sense both of us wasting our money on the same broad!"
Alanna flinched visibly at the bitter scorn in his voice. Acid tears burned her eyes, but she had no right to cry. She knew that she deserved part of Kurt's obvious disgust. "Don't Kurt, please," she murmured in a trembling voice.
"I'll leave." His mouth twisted sardonically, his handsome features suddenly bearing a stronger resemblance to Rolt's bluntly chiseled lines. "I can guess how anxious you must be to go back into your lover's arms."
His gaze slid pointedly to the masculine hand resting possessively on the curve of her waist. Alanna hadn't been conscious of its silent support until that moment. As she moved forward to elude it, Kurt turned to leave.
"No, Kurt, wait!" She hurried after him. "Let me explain, please!"
He stopped, turning-slightly. The icy disdain in his blue eyes checked the hand she held extended to touch him, freezing it in mid-air.
"Explain what?" he demanded coldly. "That you're a liar and a cheat? I know that already! I only hope that my brother is aware of what a two-timing witch you are!"
Alanna recoiled as if he had slapped her. The words died in her throat. She stared at the floor, listening to Kurt's footsteps as he walked away. When not even their echo could be heard, she turned. She felt frozen and knew it was shock that numbed her.
Rolt was still standing beside the sofa. His alert gaze was watching her, yet not betraying a flicker of his thoughts. She lifted her chin a fraction, wide, pain-filled eyes meeting his look.
"You arrayed for Kurt to come here tonight, didn't you?" she accused in an emotionless voice.
"Yes."
"Why?" There was a slight break in her bland voice.
"I thought it would be the best way for him to find out you were going to marry me. It was a harsh way, but the best way in the end," Rolt said with remarkable unconcern.
"I'm going to marry you," she said. "You've succeeded in that goal." She walked to him, standing motionless as he gazed down at her.
"I'll keep my word about heaping your father."
"You'd better savor this moment," Alanna warned him coldly. "You have what you want, but I don't think you'll want it once it's really yours."
His brow flicked upward. "Which means?" he prompted dryly.
"Which means that I intend to make your life as miserable as you've made mine," she stated. "I will marry you, Rolt, but I'll make you pay for the rest of your life for what you did here tonight. You'll regret making me your wife."
Rolt looked at her for a long moment, then turned away. He didn't seem at all concerned about her prediction. "Get your bag. It's time we informed your parents of the glad tidings."
Chapter Six
THE BLACK MARK V followed Alanna's car like an ominous, dark shadow, Alanna wouldn't let herself think about what she'd done. There would be time enough for regrets and self-recrimination later. With her mind blank, mechanical reflexes guided her car into the driveway. Rolt was only seconds behind her.
Alanna stood beside her car, waiting for him to join her before entering the house. As he walked toward her with effortless, long strides, his forcefully masculine features were thrown into sharp relief by the angle of light from the setting sun.
Suddenly she could feel the hard length of his body molded against hers and the betraying clamoring of her senses in response. With a brief shake of her head, she chased the unnerving sensation away. This physical attraction was the one thing she must guard against at all costs.
"Shall we go in?" She anticipated an affirmative answer to her stiff inquiry and turned toward the house.
"In a minute," His had gripped her elbow to detain her, but immediately she jerked it free. "That's something you can't do when we're inside, Alanna," Rolt reminded her mockingly. "We're supposed to be madly in love. Isn't that what you want your parents to believe?"
"We're not inside yet," she said icily, and started again toward the house.
This time he didn't detain her, but followed a step behind. When his arm reached around her for the doorknob, Alann
a paused, waiting for him to open the door. Instead she found herself suddenly trapped between Rolt and the door. Her head jerked upward to remind him scathingly that they were not in the house, but the words never had a chance to leave her lips
With the graceful and deadly accurate swoop of an eagle, his mouth closed over hers. For a fleeting second Alanna was immobilized by searing surprise. When she would have twisted away from his hand kiss, he was already releasing her. She was so angry at herself for being caught unaware—and at him for taking advantage of it—that she couldn't speak.
The door opened under his hand. "We can go in now." He smiled arrogantly down at her and added,
"Now that there's a sparkle in your eye and a rather becoming blush to your cheeks. We can't be meeting your parents with you looking as if you've agreed to marry the hangman."
"It's much worse. I'm going to marry you," she hissed.
The taunting softness of his laughter heightened the pink in her cheeks as he followed her into the house. Knowing he was right didn't ease her anger. She must put on an act for her parents. She didn't want them suspecting that she had any motive other than love for marrying Rolt.
As they entered the living room, her father folded up the evening paper and rose to meet them, slipping his reading glasses into his shirt pocket.
"Hello, Rolt. Elinore said she thought it was your car that drove in behind Alanna," her father said with a smile of welcome. "Is it business or pleasure, I hope, that brings you here tonight?"
When the flat of his hand spread over the small of her back, Alanna couldn't help starting. Her gaze flew to his face, bright with resentment, telling him she would endure his touch but she didn't like it. Her heart turned over at the unbelievable warmth shining in his eyes that were regarding her so softly. She simply couldn't look away.
Careful, a voice warned, don't be taken in by his charm. Remember why you agreed to marry him. When you bring Rolt down, make certain you don't topple as well.
It was with an effort that she tore her gaze away from Rolt. A self-conscious light entered her violet eyes as she encountered the curious and puzzled expression of her father. She glanced swiftly at her mother sitting on the couch. Elinore Powell was eyeing the two of them with an expectant gleam.
