by Lora Leigh
Dear God, where was Joe? His secretary had said he would come for her, that he would get her out of there. Why wasn’t he there yet?
Panic welled in her chest, made her stomach roil in waves of fear as a cold sweat began to cover her body. For a moment, just a moment, the image of Luc Jardin flashed in her head. Luc Jardin who had come to her parents’ home, fury throbbing through every inch of his body as he stared into her eyes, thinking she was Maria, and swore she would pay. Swore she would spend as much time incarcerated as he could manage.
But it was her sister, her cold, deceptive sister, who had made certain Melina was locked up in her place. Not Luc. Handsome, strong Luc. Oh God. She was going to die, Melina thought.
She would die and never know the chance to make up for what her sister had done to him. And she would die by the hands of the female rapist now staring back at her.
“Thought you’d get away from us, didn’t you, pretty thing?” Bertha Saks was a towering woman, built like a man with long black hair and faintly almond-shaped eyes. Her lips were twisted in a sneer as three other inmates crowded into the room.
“Let’s see if we can’t teach you better than to run tattling to the nice warden next time I decide I want a little kiss from those sweet lips,” Bertha chuckled. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, it only hurts if you fight it.”
Melina shuddered in distaste. The thought of giving the woman what she wanted nearly caused her to throw up.
“Bertha, leave me alone.” She tried to keep her voice firm, reasonable. “You don’t want to do this. My family can help you…”
A short, vicious laugh sounded from Bertha’s lips. “Your family?” she sneered. “Darlin’, haven’t you figured it out yet? You don’t have no family. They left you here all alone to my tender mercies. And I can be tender, sweet thing. You just lie back and spread those pretty legs and I’ll show you how tender I can be.”
Melina pushed herself deeper into the corner of the bunk, pulling her legs up in front of her, shaking, knowing there was no way to escape the other woman now. There were no guards, no sounds of movement outside the cells; there was only the echo of her own heart in her ears.
“I won’t do it.” She swallowed tightly.
“Oh, you will, bitch,” Bertha assured her. “Before this night is over, you’ll do that and more.”
“Oh God. No.” Melina tried to escape the suddenly grasping hands. Hands that tore at her clothing, ripping the cheap tunic and cotton pants off her body as others held her down.
“Now just settle down, sweet thing.” Bertha’s laughter echoed around her. “Oh, what pretty little tits. I bet they taste just as pretty as they look.”
Cruel hands stretched her arms above her head as Bertha moved, her hands outstretched, fingers curling into claws as they lowered to Melina’s breasts.
Enraged, terrified beyond anything she had known in her life, Melina began to fight. Her hands were restrained, but her legs weren’t. She kicked out forcefully, catching the larger woman in the midsection and sending her flying back as Melina twisted against the others who held her to the small cot.
Bertha’s curses echoed around the room a second before pain shattered Melina’s body. A heavy fist had landed into her tender, undefended waist. Her body bowed as an agonized scream tore from her throat and her stomach began to revolt against the pain.
“Let the bitch go,” Bertha ordered furiously. “I’ll take her to my hand or I’ll kill her.”
Before she could find the strength to stumble away, the other woman was stretched on the cot beside her, staring down at her with an evil smile, her dark eyes malicious and determined.
“No, babycakes, you’ll let me take you and you’ll like it, or I’ll make sure that sweet little body hurts real bad before you take your last breath.”
Fighting to breathe, Melina stared back at her, seeing her own death in her eyes. Weakly, she sneered into the other woman’s face. “I’d rather die…”
The next driving blow went into her stomach. As Melina’s eyes widened at the pain, her mouth opening to gasp for air, cruel hands grabbed at her breasts, hard fingers pinching at her tender nipples as the order was given again.
Wheezing for breath, tears of agony streaking her face, Melina stared into the eyes of hell and repeated her preference. “I’d rather die…”
“Then die,” Bertha sneered. “I’ll fuck your cold body and make you like it…”
*
Melina’s scream brought Luc instantly awake, his hand reaching automatically for the gun he kept beside his bed before he realized the agonized cry was one of sleep-induced terror rather than reality.
Turning to her, he caught her automatically in his arms as her body jackknifed, her eyes flying open, glazed with terror and pain as she stared back at him. A second later, she began to fight. Tears poured from her eyes as she screamed his name, yet her nails clawed at his arms, her body shuddering, sweat pouring from her as she fought against him.
“Catarina!” He yelled her name, his hands gripping her arms as she struck out at him, shaking her furiously before jerking her against his chest, holding her tight. “Goddamn, wake up, baby, please, wake up.”
Her sobs were horrible to hear. Deep, gut-wrenching cries that tore at his soul.
“Oh God. A dream,” she gasped into his chest as the cat suddenly jumped to the bed, wailing, his feline howls grating on Luc’s nerves. “Let me go.” She pushed against him, barely able to speak for her cries, barely able to function for the hard shudders ripping through her body. “Let me go. Let me go…”
He released her slowly, staring at her in shock as she grabbed at the fat little cat and hauled him into her arms. Her face buried into the fur of his neck as the cat’s cries eased and glowing feline eyes stared back at him with a somber weariness that had him shaking his head in shock.
The fucking cat was meowing now, a low, soothing sound, a shushing sound, as Melina trembled, her arms holding the animal close, his fur absorbing the terrorized sobs that were finally growing weaker.
“Catarina.” He wanted to touch her, needed to touch her. God help him, but the sound of her cries was breaking what was left of his heart. “Sweetheart, you’re going to make yourself sick crying like this.”
He tried to keep his voice soft, as soothing as the cat’s meows had become.
“Go away.” She was almost gagging as she fought for breath. “Leave me alone, Luc. Just leave me alone.”
Like hell. He moved closer, his arms going around her despite the stiffness that suddenly seized her body.
“Do you think squeezing the life out of that cat is going to make it better, Catarina?” he asked her harshly. “That’s not what you need and we both know it.”
She quivered against him.
“Let me help you, baby,” he whispered into her hair. “Come on, let poor little Mason go.” He smoothed his hand down her arm, his hand covering one of hers as he tugged at it gently. “Come on, baby. Let’s chase the demons back the right way.”
He tipped her tear-drenched face up, surprised that she wasn’t fighting with him.
Bleak, overwhelming pain filled her gaze, tearing at his heart.
“It’s okay, baby.” He lowered his head, sipping at the salty tears that fell from her eyes. “Come on, let me hold you. That’s all. Just hold you.”
*
She eased her grip on the cat slowly, allowing the animal to leave or stay as he pleased. Luc pushed at the fat little body; reminding himself to buy the animal a stash of tuna for the comfort he so obviously had brought her in the past. Catarina had turned too quickly to the cat for it to be anything other than habit. Mason comforted her.
The cat was aloof and cold at any other time, superior in his place in the world, until her screams had brought them awake.
“Come on.” Luc pulled her against him more fully, hating the tremors that ripped through her. “It’s okay.”
His lips touched hers. Gently. Soothingly.
&nb
sp; “Luc,” she finally whispered. She drew in a deep breath and stared back at him with slowly dawning awareness. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
She tried to draw away then. Tried, but he wasn’t about to allow it. Luc didn’t give her time to protest. His lips covered hers gently, his tongue licking its way past them into the velvet heat of her mouth.
He felt her still. Felt the shudders ease into a reluctant tremor as he moved his lips over hers gently. Cajoling, nipping playfully, watching her carefully through the fringe of his lashes as she stared up at him in the darkness.
“Nightmares are nasty little creatures,” he murmured against her lips as his hands smoothed up her back, one moving to bury in the mass of silken curls that fell from her head. “You have to chase them back, show them that when they come callin’, you’ll fight dirty.”
He smiled at the flicker of confusion in her gaze. He nipped gently at her lips, teasing her now with the threat of his kiss, keeping her waiting, watching.
“They don’t come creeping out if they know something good is going to follow their harassment. So we just have to show them you’ll fight dirty, huh? Do you like this, baby?”
His hands cupped her head as he lowered her back to the bed, coming down beside her, keeping his movements slow and easy, not threatening, not intense, just a silken slide of desire and pleasure to soothe and tempt her.
“I’m not Maria,” she whimpered suddenly, causing him to still. “Don’t hold me like this and think I’m Maria, Luc.”
He frowned down at her as he moved one hand to allow his fingers to caress her cheek.
“Catarina,” he whispered then. “All graceful and smooth like a little cat. Curious and tempting as sin. Come here, little Cat, let me show you how to chase away the nightmares.”
He would figure out the thread of fear and longing in her declaration later. Right now, pouty, tear-swollen lips awaited him. He wanted them reddened with his passion, moving beneath his with hungry abandon. And they were.
A soft moan of surrender escaped her as he slanted his lips over hers and once again used his tongue to tempt her higher. Within seconds her arms were wrapped around his shoulders tentatively as she relaxed into the fiery embrace.
Control, Luc reminded himself. He couldn’t take her now. Not while she was weak, frightened. He wanted to soothe her, wanted her to know he would hold her through whatever fears besieged her. He wanted—God help him, he needed—her trust.
“There, now.” He drew back long seconds later and pulled her closer into his embrace. “See? It’s all gone, baby.”
A small grin suddenly edged her lips; he knew she could sense the sexual tension wrapping around them.
“I’m supposed to go back to sleep now?” she finally asked him, her voice hoarse, but thankfully without fear.
“Well,” he finally said with no small amount of amusement, “unless you want to take care of this hard-on killing me. Otherwise, I’d advise you to go to sleep fast or I might be tempted to convince you to help me out with that matter.”
She was definitely considering it. For a second his heart stilled in anticipation before going into overdrive and beating a fierce drumbeat of lust inside his chest. Then her eyes snapped closed, though the corners of her lips were still edging into a grin.
“I’m asleep,” she murmured drowsily.
Luc snorted and settled deeper in his pillow, holding her to his chest and trying to fight back his own fears. Her screams would haunt him forever, he thought. What the hell had happened to her?
“You convince yourself of that, baby.” He kissed the top of her head and sighed wearily. “Now go to sleep before my lust overrules my head and convinces me you’re well able to handle a good old-fashioned tumble.”
Her laughter was more relaxed now as her body softened against him.
“Thanks, Luc,” she finally whispered.
“For what? Baby, I didn’t do anything but make myself hard as stone with no relief in sight. You should feel sorry for me. Real sorry.” He exaggerated his slow drawl, relishing her low laughter in the dark.
“Thanks anyway.” She snuggled closer, sighed deeply, and within minutes was drifting back to sleep.
She left Luc staring into the darkness, a frown on his face and suspicion building in his head. If he weren’t so certain of Joe, he would have sworn this couldn’t be Maria after all. But one thing was clear. Whatever the hell was going on, she wasn’t the type of woman he had been led to believe, nor was she the drug-dazed whore his information had hinted at. She was almost … innocent. He wanted to shake his head to dispel that image. The woman who sucked his dick two years before wasn’t innocent, not in any way. But strangely enough, the woman cleaning his house, and now sleeping in his bed, was just that.
TWELVE
Melina did her best to ignore Luc the next day. It wasn’t that the nightmare had left her frightened. Strangely enough, it had left her more comforted than she had ever been after such an episode. No, she was avoiding Luc because that single act of comfort had suddenly shifted the balance of her emotions. What had been simple lust, a desire for that tough-as-hell body, was turning into something she didn’t understand, something deeper, something more intense. Something that was almost frightening.
He had held her through the night. His arms, so muscular, strong and warm. God, he was so warm.
She paused as she loaded the washer with dusty jeans and closed her eyes at the thought of it, remembering the feel of him holding her. A shudder raced down her spine. Like live bands of flexible steel, his arms had surrounded her, wrapping around her and holding her close to his chest.
And his chest … She sighed. She was a lost cause. One of those silly, insipid females who caved for lust. She stuffed his jeans into the washer as she grimaced at the very idea of it. It was bad enough she had been a doormat for her family her entire life; this was a new level of ridiculous. She despised women who caved so damned easily.
“But it’s just for a little while,” she muttered to herself as she stared into the depths of the washer as though it could actually hold answers.
He would realize his mistake soon. Luc wasn’t a stupid man, just a determined man. And when he did realize what he had done, he would pack her up and take her back to her empty apartment and her empty life.
It wasn’t that she couldn’t find a lover, if she wanted one. It was, unfortunately, a matter of having only wanted one man. Luc. Silly wimp, she berated herself. Take one look at six-feet-plus of hot cowboy and what do you do? Good-bye, common sense; hello, hormones.
She slammed the washer lid closed.
“I am not this insane,” she mumbled to herself. “God, I have to have more self-control than this.”
“I don’t know, Cat. If you start answering yourself, I’d worry if I were you.”
Melina swung around, her eyes widening in mortification, her body flushing in embarrassment as she stared back at the object of her insanity.
Luc leaned casually against the frame of the laundry room door, his gray eyes glinting with amusement, a smile quirking those eat-’em-up lips. That full lower lip was as tempting as chocolate, and she knew his kiss was anything but sweet. It was hot and wild and mind destroying and she wanted to feast on it.
“I thought you were outside,” she snapped, turning quickly away from him to check the clothes in the dryer before turning it on with a quick flip of the switch.
“I was.” She could hear the shrug in his voice.
A second later she heard him move closer. She tensed, though her pussy began to weep in serious distress. That particular part of her body was not pleased with her reticence in jumping his bones. It really wasn’t fair, she thought. Men like Luc Jardin should seriously be outlawed for the good of all females.
He was too close. She could smell him. She straightened the containers of fabric softener, laundry detergent, and various stain removers as she fought the racing of her heart, the tightening of her nipples. Why did he have to b
e so damned gentle last night?
If he had been a bastard, she could have resisted him, could have reminded herself how mean and rude and totally irrational he was.
“Cat.” His chest brushed her back as she drew in a long, hard breath. “You feel it, too, baby. It won’t just go away.”
She shook her head, denying him, denying herself.
“Do you have any idea how difficult it was to just hold you last night?” he asked her. “Your hard little nipples burned holes in my chest, even through that shirt. I bet I have the singe marks to prove it.”
She couldn’t stop the smile that begged to curve her lips, but she kept her back to him, trembling, jerking in response when he kissed her bare shoulder. The sleeveless tank top was no defense against him. The gauzy slip-skirt she wore with it suddenly seemed too heavy, too restricting. She wanted to get naked with him. Wanted to roll across beds and floors and tables and scream in pleasure as he fucked her sillier than she must already be.
“I have half an hour before a buyer shows up,” he murmured, his lips brushing over her bare skin once again. “Plenty of time, baby, to show you how good it could be.”
Oh hell. Like he had to tell her anything. Even her womb was rippling with pleading little tremors. Her panties would have to be changed. And she didn’t dare turn around because her nipples were about to pop through the cloth of her shirt, they were so damned hard. Yep, she was in trouble here.
“I have to clean … something.” She rolled her eyes at the betraying squeak in her voice. Silly twit, she accused herself.
“Hmm.” The soft hum against her neck had her shuddering in response.
“Luc, please…” She licked her suddenly dry lips as she fought to hold on to her control. “This isn’t the wisest course of action here.”
“Do you know how sexy that little skirt looks?” He ignored her statement as his hands gripped her, one smoothing down her thigh. “I’ve denied myself all day, Cat. Turn around, baby, and tell me why I shouldn’t raise that flimsy excuse for a covering and push my cock as deep inside your sweet pussy as I can get it.”
