Cami’s next words shocked Fiona. “Yes, I suppose I did agree,” she said with only slight hesitation, all the while gazing up at Vic, her eyes dewy with longing.
“We have only to settle matters,” he replied, slipping his arm once more about Cami’s slender waist.
“You can’t be serious about this, Victoine,” Fiona hissed under her breath. “She’s a child. She doesn’t know what you’re proposing or what she wants.”
“I am not a child!” Cami protested. “And I told you what I wanted when I arrived in New Orleans, Fiona. I want love!”
“And you shall have it!” Vic’s dark eyes blazed as he stared down at Cami.
Stunned, Fiona motioned them to follow her downstairs to one of the empty card rooms. How had she lost control of this situation? What would become of Cami now? Perhaps she should put an end to this masquerade by telling Vic Cami’s true identity, by confessing to Cami that Vic was a married man. No, things had gone too far for that. Besides, she had the feeling that neither Vic nor Cami would back out, even if the truth were known. She could only hope that Camille would come to her senses before she allowed Victoine Navar to further soil her reputation and ruin her life. There was still time—the courting period.
Once they were seated at the table downstairs, Vic launched his campaign. “You know I have the house ready, Fiona. I would like to take Cami home this very night.”
“What?” Fiona cried. “No courting? No time for Cami to come to know you first?”
Vic smiled down at Cami. “We know each other well enough. You’re willing to come to my house tonight, aren’t you, my darling?”
Fiona tried to cover her shock gracefully. “A house is one thing, Victoine, but what of the rest of the settlement? Can you afford to keep my niece in style? What of clothes, jewels, a carriage, servants?”
Cami’s head was spinning as the two dickered back and forth. They talked as if she were not in the room, ignoring her presence as they bartered her flesh for gold. Somehow she had been sure earlier in the evening that it would never come to this. She’d been certain that Fiona would never allow it. But it seemed to Cami that her father’s former mistress had launched herself into this haggling with fierce enthusiasm.
After nearly an hour, Black Vic rose, smiling. “Then it’s all arranged. Now, may I take my darling home?”
“Home? Now?” Suddenly, Cami felt afraid once more.
Fiona thought she saw a slight ray of hope. Cami might still back out. “M’sieur Navar has settled handsomely for you, Cami, but it is not too late. Have you changed your mind?” Her golden eyes glittered as she pleaded silently with the girl. “We would both understand, child.”
“Speak for yourself, Fiona!”
At Vic’s angry tone, Cami turned to look at him. His face was a mask of manly determination. She had gone too far for him to allow her to turn back now.
“What about my clothes, my other things?” Cami asked, knowing her attempt to stall would most likely fail.
“I’ll send someone over to Love Street for your belongings the first thing tomorrow morning,” Vic answered.
“Fiona?” Cami turned her gaze on the woman, but it was obvious there was nothing more she could do. Cami had gotten herself into this. It was too late for second thoughts.
Vic slipped his arm about Cami’s trembling shoulders and hugged her close to his side. “Come to think of it, Fiona, don’t look for my servant to arrive first thing tomorrow. I expect Cami and I will be occupied through the morning.”
Everything was moving so fast. Cami’s head was spinning. She had imagined this moment for so long, but now that it was actually here, she wasn’t at all sure she was ready. What would she do when they arrived at Black Vic’s house and she found herself alone with a man for the first time in her life?
With a sorrowful shake of her head, Fiona said good night, kissed Cami’s cheeks, then left. Alone with Black Vic, Cami felt as awkward and tonguetied as she had been that night she first saw him at Mulgrove. And if she’d thought he looked at her that night as if he’d enjoy doing indecent things to her, right now he gazed down as if he meant to devour her whole, on the spot. Instead, he led her outside to his waiting coach.
They rode all the way in silence, Cami lost in her unsettling thoughts. Suddenly, Vic’s hand touched hers and she all but jumped out of her skin.
“We’re home,” he said softly.
Cami looked up. “Home?” she repeated tone-lessly.
“Yes, mine and yours, ma chère.” He pressed her hand. “Come. Let’s go in.”
“Wait!” Cami whispered, knowing that there was no way she could stall, but nervous at the thought of actually entering his house—his bedroom.
“Come, little love,” Vic said quietly. “It’s time for us to vacate this stuffy coach and get safely inside. I don’t trust the night air. I myself am immune to the city’s fevers, but I wouldn’t want you to breathe the miasmas for too long.” He slipped his hand into hers and squeezed. “You are far too precious to me, Cami dearest.”
Cami felt a little thrill run through her, yet she drew her hand away. “Very well, m’sieur. Whatever you say.”
Cami had to bite her lip to stay her tears once they were inside. Now she felt truly alone and at Black Vic’s mercy. She wasn’t ready, but how could she explain that to him?
“Well? Do you like it?” Vic asked. He seemed unaware of Cami’s trembling.
“Yes, m’sieur. It’s very nice.”
They were in the green and gold petite salon. Vic turned to Cami, he dark eyes pleading. “Won’t you please call me Vic? You sound so very formal—more like a servant than a…”
“Than a what, m’sieur?” she challenged.
“A lover.” When he said the word his voice was deep and warm and caressing. The sound sent a new kind of shiver through Cami.
She shied away from his direct gaze after a moment. So, there it was! She must face that fact. He wanted her not as a wife, but as a woman to do his bidding. Only one question remained: When would he strip the gown from her and demand that she bend to his will? She almost wished that he would force the moment so they could be done with it forever. It would serve her right, she reminded herself. After all, she was the one who had run away from her safe, dull life to find adventure and romance.
Suddenly, Cami remembered her conversation with her Cousin Lorenna the night she left Mulgrove. She had told ’Renna of her wish to find a man to love her. Well, now she had that wish and the very man she had set out to capture. Only the tables had turned. She was the prey now and he the pursuer. Very well, now that she knew her role, it was time they discussed the rules.
“Fiona told me exactly what will be expected of me,” Cami said with more courage than she thought she possessed. “I am to be at your beck and call, day and night. I am always to smile—even when I’m unhappy—to act in a pleasant manner, and to do your bidding, m’sieur. So what do you wish of me?”
Black Vic smiled at her pretty speech, but ignored her forthright question. Instead of answering, he handed her a small glass of wine. “Would you like something to eat before we retire? I’ve no servants here at present, but I’m sure I could manage a plate of fruit or some pastries from the pantry.”
Cami sipped her wine, staring at Vic over the delicate crystal rim. So, she mused, he had this all planned. No servants. How convenient! He had her all to himself, to ravish at his leisure, with no one to hear should she cry for help.
“No, thank you,” she answered, then allowed herself a ladylike yawn behind her hand.
“I’m rather tired tonight, too,” he confessed. “Why don’t I show you to the bedchamber? You can change and then…”
Cami’s blood froze in her veins when he let the sentence trail off unfinished.
And then what? As if she didn’t know!
Sure enough, a moment later he came toward her. She recognized that dark flame in his eyes. She had seen that same look on the balcony just before he assault
ed her with his tongue. She moved slightly away from him.
Setting his wine glass aside, Vic reached for Cami’s as well. Then he placed his hands on her waist. As he held her at arm’s length, his gaze traveled over her. She trembled when he looked at her breasts, straining at the filmy white fabric of her gown. This was the same lazy, bold perusal he had given her that night at Mulgrove. The sensation left her breathless and confused.
Finally, his eyes locked on hers and Vic said, “Cami, you’re so lovely. If I had my way, I would sweep you up in my arms this minute and carry you to my bed.”
Fear made Cami catch a ragged breath, but she determined not to let him know how much his words frightened her. She decided her best defense was to cast off her demure facade and match him shock for shock. If he meant to take her here and now, he would know that she was a woman of spirit, not some shy child who quaked at his touch even as she welcomed it.
Tossing her head so that her hair whipped back over one shoulder, she glared at him, smiling. “I hope you don’t intend to tear off my lovely new gown, ripping it from my breasts as your eyes seem to be stripping it away at this very moment.”
“Rip your gown?” He drew back, an expression of amusement and horror on his handsome face. “Of course I’d never do such a thing!”
“Ah!” She nodded as if she could read his every thought. “Then I suppose you will now show me to your chamber where you will lounge on the bed—hot and ready—while you command me to undress before your hungry eyes. Well, if that is your plan, m’sieur, do not expect me to tremble before you and plead for mercy. Although I appreciate my privacy, I am not ashamed of my body.”
Stunned at first by her outburst, Vic was now almost ready to burst out laughing. This girl was no shy violet as Fiona had claimed. She was a fiery-tempered minx who would no doubt make him pay far more than gold for her love.
“You have a body no woman would be ashamed of,” he fired back, still smiling. “And you’ve a fine flare for the bizarre as well. I certainly will not expect you to disrobe before my leering eyes.” He cocked a brow and looked thoughtful. “At least, I hadn’t planned it, but if you’re willing…”
Cami’s face went scarlet. At that moment, Vic realized she was merely putting on this feisty front. It dawned on him that she was truly terrified of what he might do to her.
Careful to keep his distance, Vic said, “Cami, what are you afraid of?”
The soft tone of his words crumbled her bold façade. She put her face in her hands with a long-suppressed sob.
“Please don’t,” Vic said almost coldly. “I’ve done nothing to make you weep, nor do I intend to. I thought you found me pleasing or I would never have brought you here. I had hoped, Cami, that in you I had finally found a woman who could love me. If I’m mistaken, then you have nothing to fear. I’ll never touch you again.”
Now a new kind of terror surged through her. She tried to stop the flow of tears, tried to find her voice to explain, but it was hopeless.
“Come,” Vic ordered. “I’ll show you to your room. I believe you’ll find anything you might need there—toilet items, night clothes. You needn’t worry about my invading your privacy tonight. You may even lock the door, if you wish. Tomorrow I’ll see that you return safe and sound and untouched to your Aunt Fiona.”
All of the things Fiona had told Cami about the proper conduct of a placée came back to her in a rush. “You must be at all times trusting, willing, giving, and loving if you expect happiness in return. A Creole man may be unfaithful to his wife, but never to his mistress. Theirs is a relationship more sacred even than marriage. With the right man I found perfect bliss. Perhaps in time you will, too, Camille.”
Time! Yes, time was the key, Cami realized.
“Please, Victoine!” Cami forced herself to use his name, her words only a bare whisper. “Don’t send me away. Only give me a little more time, won’t you?”
She reached out one trembling hand in a pleading gesture. When his fingertips touched hers, it seemed to Cami that something like a flow of life force passed between them. At that moment, in her mind’s eye she could see the two of them as if she were floating somewhere high above, the image caught forever of a man and a woman reaching out to each other. There was a vast sense of yearning, needing—a sense of longing to share pain and joy and love.
“Time?” he murmured quietly. “I would wait days, years, centuries to know your love, Cami. A chance is all I ask.”
Slowly, cautiously, Cami moved toward him. His words had touched her deeply. Somehow she must let him know that.
Sensing a change in her, Vic stood frozen to the spot, not daring to move. He couldn’t chance frightening her again. She would have her time—all she needed and more. God, how he ached to take her in his arms and make mad, passionate love to her this very minute! But he would guard himself well until she was ready and willing to come to him.
A moment later, Cami stood so close to Vic that she could feel his heat and hear the soft hiss of his breath. She stared up into his face. A nerve twitched in his square jaw, otherwise his features remained passive. Slowly, she went up on tiptoe, but she still could not reach his lips.
“A kiss to seal our bargain?” she begged, her velvety voice trembling with emotion.
Black Vic leaned down to her, his hands still at his sides. When their lips touched at last, Cami felt such a dizzy longing that she almost stumbled away. Instinctively, her hands went to his waist. At first, she meant only to steady herself, but a moment later her arms slid around him and she pressed her body close to his. Their kiss went on and on—a sweet, gentle pressure that first warmed Cami’s toes, then weakened her legs. Soon her whole body suffered the tender impact. She let her hands glide up and down the muscular contours of Vic’s back, pressing him more firmly to her breasts. She could tell Vic was holding back. His arms remained at his sides. All intimate contact between them was her doing. She gave him the kiss. She held him close. Only one part of him responded, seemingly with a will of its own.
By the time Cami released Vic, she felt as if a fever had gripped her. She knew she wanted more from him. Her mouth longed for the caress of his tongue. Her breasts ached for his touch. And something deep inside her burned for more of him than she cared to put a name to. After all she had been through in the past hours, would he now make her beg? No! She couldn’t!
Her indigo eyes pleaded as she gazed up at the placid mask of his face. Then something moved—the twitch of a muscle beside his mouth. Surely, he was about to say the very words Cami longed to hear.
Instead, Vic said, “It’s been a very long day. Come, Cami, I’ll show you to your room. And tomorrow…”
“Tomorrow?” she asked in an uncertain whisper, but Black Vic never finished the thought aloud.
Chapter Fourteen
Cami’s long day stretched on into a long night. Lying in the big empty bed in the room next to Vic’s, she went over everything that had happened in her mind a thousand times. She reviewed her fears, caused, she was certain, by the intimate things Fiona had told her that men did to women. Somehow, though, those things seemed far less frightening now, when she thought of sharing such experiences with Black Vic Navar.
She glanced across the room. He was sleeping in a chamber that connected to her own. A few steps, the turn of a doorknob, and she would be there with him. How great the temptation!
Just before dawn, Cami rose from the tester bed and tiptoed, barefoot, to the door that linked their chambers. Vic would be sleeping, of course. She wouldn’t wake him. She’d simply peek in to make sure he was still there.
The first faint pearly rays of dawn inched across the floor as Cami leaned against the door to listen. All was quiet on the other side. Summoning her courage, she slowly turned the knob. To her relief, the door opened silently. His room was filled with shadows, but she could clearly see his dark form on the big bed. He was sleeping on his back, his arms thrown over his head. A sheet covered him to the waist, but his ch
est was naked, darkly furred with man-hair.
Fascinated by the sight of him, Cami eased a few steps into the room. She gazed intently at him. He looked much younger with his facial muscles relaxed. His scarred cheek was turned away from her. His thick, black hair was rumpled, glistening with night-sweat. She had so many questions about Black Vic. What had his life been like when he was younger? What were his hopes and plans for the future? Then another thought crossed her mind—what would he think if he suddenly woke and found her staring at him? That question almost sent her running back to the safety of her own bed, but her curiosity was too keen to allow her to leave just yet.
Before Cami knew what was happening, she stood over Vic’s sleeping form, staring down into his handsome face, so peaceful in sleep. She let her gaze explore this awesome male, from the dark tousled hair pressed damply to his forehead, to the strong arms and broad chest. Vic shifted slightly and the sheet slipped down, an inch past his waist. Cami stared, fascinated by his lean, hard form. She could only imagine what lay hidden from her eyes.
Once more, she let her gaze travel to his face. In that instant, she could have died of shame.
His eyes wide, staring at her staring at him, Vic warned in a husky voice, “You’re treading dangerous territory, Cami love.”
She tried to think of some reply, but found there was simply no explanation for her being there. When she meant to turn and flee, she met with the same lack of success. She could only stand dumbly next to the bed, still staring down at Black Vic.
She watched a smile spread over his face. At the same time, something rose beneath the sheet to form a tent over his lower body. Realizing what it was, Cami gasped.
Vic reached out and placed his hand on her thinly-clad hip, caressing her until an ache burned through her lower body. She wanted so to run back to her room and hide there forevermore, but his touch held her mesmerized.
Whispers in Time Page 25
