Barbour, Carolina - Watch Me, Desire Me (Siren Publishing Allure)

by Watch Me, Desire Me

  * * * *

  Milo beckoned to her. “Come…come, my dear. I beg your forgiveness,” he cajoled, silkily smooth. “Fine then, call me a beast. I deserve such. A horrible, horrible, ghastly husband who can’t deal with the reality he can no longer please his wife. A destroyed human being who was frantic to figure out a way to keep his wife satisfied, so you would not leave me. I suggested an irrational thing. I believed I was making you happy. Then there was Lord Drackett to worry about... Who could keep you safe from the lecherous bastard except Juden?” He poured on the dramatic flair so convincingly he deserved applause. Milo forced himself from clapping his hands gleefully. He tempered his angst, softened his tone, and pleaded to the ungrateful bitch. “Can you ever forgive me, my dear? I know I don’t deserve to ask anything of you, I must, because the thought of losing you is what will make me a broken man. I would rather die,” he said with conviction. And almost forgot himself, and bowed awaiting the accolades a superb actor would expect when Saxby came toward him.

  She laid her cheek against his chest. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his arm around her throat and choke the life from her betraying body. Instead, with shaking hands, he stroked her hair. He whispered soft endearments, apologized profusely, and asked again for forgiveness he didn’t give a damn about receiving. He went on and on, droning endlessly, about how he was sorry until the sound of his own voice sickened him. He surmised begging anything of Saxby was necessary. How else could he seek what he wanted? One last coupe—the ultimate revenge, only then would he gain a measure of satisfaction.

  “Tell me you forgive me, Saxby. Release me from the torment rages in my heart that I hurt you so.”

  “Oh, Milo, how did we get to this point?”

  Milo suffocated the smile he felt surfacing. “Hush now, let us not regress into our unsavory past. Let us start fresh. Shall we?”

  Saxby readily agreed, so eagerly, and he enjoyed he could easily lead the lamb to slaughter.

  “I have a surprise for you. A peace offering.”

  Saxby looked up and searched his face that he kept placid.

  “Remember, you seemed so happy to please me before Juden arrived? I thought bringing those days back would make you excited.”

  “Milo what…what do you say?”

  He liked the frisson of apprehension on her face. “Look, my dear, what I have brought you.”

  Slowly, turning toward where Milo pointed to the enclosed glass frame, Saxby’s entire body became inflexible when she saw two men waiting in the chamber.

  Vigorously, she started shaking her head. “No, Milo, no…nooo.”

  He palmed her cheeks and forced her to look into his eyes. He hoped she didn’t see him gloating, but believed in his heart of heart his intentions were true. “Do this for me, Saxby. Show me you want to make me happy and repair our relationship. Even if it isn’t true, lie to me by giving yourself to those men. If you do, I will know you have not betrayed me with Juden. Prove you love me and not my brother who isn’t worthy of an ounce of your consideration.”

  “I…can’t.”

  Milo shoved her away. “Then ‘tis true. My worst nightmare has come to haunt me as I live and breathe. I have lost you forever,” he whispered. Appeared melancholy, and just as suddenly the dynamics of his temperament changed. The chilly, unyielding, person he morphed into earlier returned with vengeance.

  “You can love Juden. You will never have him. I will see him dead first.”

  * * * *

  To save Juden, she would willingly walk into the fires of damnation.

  As she dragged along the hallway to the chamber where the men waited, and knowing what she must do, she welcomed the thought of burning in hell.

  Saxby saw the two men waiting inside the room and pretended not to. She walked in a daze, slowly moving toward the men, and then stopped.

  She closed her eyes, withdrew into nothingness, as she felt them tug at her clothing. She heard them speaking to her, it was white noise inside her head.

  When she lay onto the bed and spread her legs, her only thought was of Juden. She did this for him, to keep Milo at bay, and to save her heart’s life. Nothing else mattered but that. Not what she allowed the men to do, she effectively blocked out everything accept the notion she gave of her body in sacrifice for Juden.

  The singular thought helped her survive the moment.

  Chapter 25

  Juden’s stance was as severe as the expression on his face as he stared into the windowpane. Seeing Saxby scandalously engaged and spread wide for one man while her lips sucked another, his heart stopped. Immediately, a rush of rage so powerful he couldn’t breathe overwhelmed him.

  Seized with fury, Juden was stagnant, and couldn’t move until he told himself to move, as if he needed to nudge himself from the motionless state. Even then, he forced his legs into motion or he feared he be glued to the same spot for an eternity. Forever, with the picture of Saxby sprawled nude and acting the whore branded in his brain.

  “I tried to warn you about my wife.” If Milo wasn’t confined to his bed, Juden would have sworn he slithered against his side. His voice rung out loudly in the disquiet and interrupted his sole thought to smash the hell out the glass pane and grab Saxby by her deceitful neck.

  He desisted and turned away from the sight that left his heart skipping beats and flashes of red streaking across his eyes.

  “So you did. Is there anything else?” The calmness of his voice alarmed him. Tormented, he felt venom frothing at the surface, dangerously close to combustive. He refused to give Milo the satisfaction of seeing him detonate.

  “I’m sorry you learned of Saxby’s whorish tendencies the hard way, Juden.” Milo sighed wistful, as if he didn’t rejoice in playing twisted games. “I did what I could to please her after the accident, as you see I’m not capable of giving my wife the endless sex she requires. She’s quite, spirited, insatiable, but then you know this.”

  Juden throttled his temper. “If there is nothing more, I must leave.”

  Milo flipped his wrist in the air indifferently. “Go, go…I wish you well on your travels.”

  Juden faced Milo. His expression granite, his tone lethal, he said, “I don’t travel, but go to hunt,” he said, and whirled around and stalked from the room.

  * * * *

  Saxby barely made it into her chambers, reached the basin, before she almost fainted in disgust. She splashed her face with cool water, gulped a swallow, and rinsed her mouth as if she could wash away her distasteful action.

  She whirled around frantic, eyes wide, searching for the small tub she kept handy. She wanted to bathe. She needed to scrub the men’s filth off and deceit from her body.

  A sudden movement in the darkened corner of the room caught her attention.

  The glint of silver that flashed through the dark startled her.

  “Juden?”

  “Who else were you expecting or wanting?” The harsh cut of his voice alarming, her acute sense quickly noticed the displeasure on the surface of his mild tone.

  “I didn’t expect to find anyone in my chamber. Suddenly realizing you are present shocked me. Why are you sitting in the dark… alone…waiting?”—like a lurking predator.

  “I prefer darkness,” he said, ultra low.

  Saxby lit a candle sconce and wished she hadn’t when she faced Juden. The menacing expression on his face reminded her he was a dangerous man, capable of killing with his bare hands…making her wonder why he bothered with weapons. As a variant, he was stronger and faster than a human, a walking destroyer if he wanted. Someone with keen vision and a heightened awareness of smells like an animal, which made her aware he could detect the aftermath of sex that reeked and knew of her treachery.

  She wished her thoughts hadn’t wandered in that direction. Thankfully, his slight shifting pulled her attention back to the uncomfortable present, and nervously she fidgeted with her gown.

  He sat rigid, and she noticed he struggled to maintain control.
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  Saxby gave him a faint sad look. “You know. Don’t you?”

  “What? You are the whore you feared.”

  The acrimony in his tone heavy, lashed through her. Saxby moved lightening quick, and in three quick strides, she was in his face. She slapped him.

  Juden didn’t blink.

  “How dare you stand in judgment about what I have done without knowing the reason?” She breathed harshly.

  “Frankly, I don’t really give a damn.”

  She pummeled his chest, striking him, beating her fist against his chest until her arms ached. “You’re insensitive, cold-hearted, and a bastard! You think I enjoyed myself and wanted to be with those men!” She struck him again, hard, dead in his chest with her balled fist. “I hate I thought you were worthy,” she shrieked, continuing to strike, wanting to hurt him as much as his selfish condemnation bruised her feelings.

  Juden remained sitting, motionless, and accepted the blows. He allowed Saxby to vent, rant, and take out her frustration on him. Saxby paused, chest heaving, all flushed, she was exhausted from the assault against Juden. She shouted. “Say something! Defend yourself! Don’t you sit there all sanctimonious!” She turned away, stormed across the room to put some space between them, fearing if she didn’t she’d lose it and attack him again.

  “There is really nothing to say. The truth of the matter is obvious,” he said quietly.

  She stared stonily at him. “You think you don’t have any culpability in all this?” He came to Dandelion and made a mockery of her life, feelings, and she foolishly fell in love with him and willing to give her soul for his survival. Only to realize Juden cared about Juden. So callous she believed him, if not wouldn’t he at least give her the consideration to ask why she acted stupidly.

  He didn’t care!

  Furious, she grabbed a metal picture frame and hurled it at his head.

  Juden ducked in time. When she reached for another weapon, he leaped from the chair and flew across the room, and grabbed her arm.

  He forced her to drop the candleholder. Saxby kicked out, tried to unman him, and slammed her foot into his thigh when Juden twisted his body just in time to avoid the vicious strike.

  She felt a blast of anger that hit her cheek when he spoke. “Don’t do that again,” he snarled.

  Her anger ripe, she convulsed, breathing hard. “You don’t tell me what to do. I can and will do as I please!”

  “Madame, that was plainly clear to me from the beginning. Albeit, it would behoove you to consider against whom you act your transgressions as all men aren’t as forgiving as Milo,” he said drily.

  “Go to hell.” She poked him in the chest. “You, Juden VanZandt can go straight to hell and forget you ever knew me.”

  “Is that what you want?”

  Saxby started pacing rather than answer his ridiculous question—she was devastated, crushed inside, didn’t he have the sense to know she’d say anything? His lack of response, any attempt to soothe her, he stood there like a steel fixture escalated the anger she felt inside, and yes the anguish. She lapsed into mumbling to herself and spoke without thinking or considering the consequences of her words. All coherent thought evaded her the moment she realized Juden did not intend to fight for her or to stay with her. “Yes. As far as I’m concerned, nothing else would be acceptable. I will not stand here and let you incriminate me without respecting me enough to inquire why I was with those men. Maybe I had a valid reason. Did you think of that? Oh, no, you just automatically assumed the worst, because you are too busy licking your own wounds.”

  By Oslei, she was nasty, striking out angrily, saying absurd things she didn’t mean. Why didn’t she just tell him she would have done anything to protect him from Milo?

  “If it is any consolation I wish I weren’t here to witness your perfidy.”

  If Saxby paid attention, she would have noticed his tone was grim rather than angry. “Why are you still here?” she snapped bitterly. She turned her back on him.

  When the door shut, the minimal sound vibrated in Saxby’s head as loud as if Juden torn down the rafters over his head. She waited a pulse which seemed longer before she ran to the balcony hearing the commotion below. She leaned over the railing and watched Juden mount his horse.

  She knew, he knew, she was standing there watching him. He didn’t look up, instead stared straight ahead, as still as a toy soldier.

  A scream caught in her throat and lodged there as heavy as a stone to keep her from calling out. Turmoil coiled around her, choking, and made her freeze, she refused to beg him to stay. Struggling against what she wanted and needed, she bit back the words she wanted to shout and stared as Juden rode through the gates of Dandelion.

  Her emotions where a kaleidoscope of thoughts, anguish, regret, and even a small part of relief knowing Juden was safely away from Milo’s madness.

  Chapter 26

  Good riddance.

  Milo lurked in the dim corridor, carefully hidden by the alcove walls that surrounded the rampart. He watched Juden leave, rejoicing in the rush of adrenaline spike surge through his body, enough to make him smile cheerfully with pleasure at seeing the bastard go.

  He rubbed his hands together in triumph, turned, and walked away. He hobbled back to his chamber laboriously, staying in the shadows to avoid detection. That would be a major fax paus. Slowly, dragging one stiff leg, he shuffled toward the hidden compartment. A secret passage beneath the manor his father built which allowed him to sneak to his whore’s room unbeknownst to his naïve mother.

  Thinking of Tanzenth VanZandt and his father tampered the elation he felt about Juden leaving, and it was replaced with derision and made him snarly. The vampire whore was a servant in their house during the day and his father’s concubine at night. The slut stayed right under the very nose of his trusting and stupid mother who was clueless or didn’t care. He cared then and now, and wondered how the bitch turned his father against his family. True bloods had the ability of mind control, if rumors were true, and she would have had to use something as ominous, because he couldn’t fathom how else his father would succumb to the jezebel.

  Milo used a heavy pole that resembled a walking stick more than a cane for balance, and as he made his way to the door leading below, it thumped over the stones.

  His movements required effort and left his body coated in sheen of sweat and aching under the exertion. He considered it a small price to pay to see Juden vacant the premise. He wanted to see Saxby’s face. From where he hid, it was too dark, and he could only view the outline of her form as she stood on the balcony.

  Having overheard Saxby and Juden’s argument offset the disappointment he felt at not being able to see every nuance of her features when Juden left. That gave him a small measure of pleasure.

  Quiet as a mouse, he stood outside in the cramped area connecting his and Saxby’s chambers, and listened. Saxby had been vicious, a first rate bitch, he would give her that. It surprised him that his wife had it in her, though. Apparently, she played the docile, submissive, and catering wife well before and after the accident to the point she convinced him, until now.

  Juden’s response to her attack surprised him, because his brother wasn’t known for his mild temperament. This disappointed him. Isla riled Juden once, and the result was murder.

  Milo hesitated, as memories of that night surfaced, and the grainy circumstances materialized with a fresh wave as if it happened yesterday. The night quiet, a storm just passed, and the distance sound of thunder rumbled as lightening streaked across the sky. He’d watched and listened at the chamber door where Isla and Juden were inside. He heard their voices, carnal mating sounds, and knew what transpired. The rage he felt equaled what he felt tonight, as betrayal ate at him like an infestation.

  Isla and Juden had sex, and then argued about something. He never knew about what, as their tones were audible. The actual words muffled and splotchy and he couldn’t make out what they said. He hadn’t really cared. The fact they were
in a bitter disagreement elated him.

  Then silence ensued for such a long time he assumed Juden left. He hadn’t seen him leave the room, Juden knew ways to exit an establishment if he didn’t want to be seen, like ‘fly the coop’, so to speak. Having variant blood, it was a valid possibility.

  Shortly, the guards would come on duty and servants would be about preparing the house for the night. Picking up his pace as much as he dared, he ignored the stinging pain shot up his spine, and quickly made his way to his room. He made it to his bed and eased into a sitting position, blew out air, inhaled and exhaled to calm the burning to a dull throb so he could focus pass the discomfort. Trembling, he reached for the cup of grainroot someone conveniently left beside his bed on the table. Shaking, he clutched the cup, and swallowed hard emptying the container in one gulp. Blessedly, the euphoric feeling came quickly. He reclined and rested against the pillow, and closed his eyes. He waited for the potion full effect to consume him, numb the pain, stop the shakes, and put his mind in a fog of forgetfulness that blended past and present.

  Murky images of Isla’s death surfaced vividly and mixed with his thoughts of wanting to strangle Saxby, as he lay there and considered how much Saxby and Isla were alike, conniving, deceitful whores. Both betrayed him with Juden, loved Juden, but Isla died for her transgression. Not by his hands, as he wished, but by Juden, and he wondered why Juden hadn’t killed Saxby too. His brother frustrated him from that respect.

  Milo’s eyes fluttered, the visions intensified to the point confusion surfaced strong, he saw Isla or was it Saxby covered in blood. The throat ripped open as if a savage animal tore into the flesh and left a gaping pulpy mess. It was surreal to see the body sprawled lifeless and more disconcerting when he found Judy lying beside the body.