La Flamme (Historical Romance)

by Constance O'Banyon

  She straightened and watched him enter the room. Their eyes met, and she was unaware that she moved across the room to meet him halfway. They did not touch, but stared into each other's eyes.

  "Your other guests have gone," Garreth said at last.

  "There were no others. 1 invited only you."

  His eyebrow arched in mockery. "Had I known that, I would have arrived earlier."

  She licked her dry lips. "You're here now."

  "I tried to stay away. But as you see, I could not."

  There was nothing of the coquette in her now. "I am glad you came."

  He glanced about the room. "No servants?"

  "I sent them away. There is no one in the house save you and me."

  His voice was deep and resounded through her like a caress. "Not even Richard?"

  "Not even Richard." She laid her hand on his arm. "I want so much to thank you for finding him last night. I was very unkind to you after you brought him home. Can you forgive me?"

  "There is nothing to forgive. It's understandable that you were frightened for his safety."

  She smelled of some strange exotic flower, and he ached to crush her in his arms. Instead, he moved away from her. "Did you change your mind about me, or is this merely your way of showing your gratitude because I found Richard?"

  A slight smile flickered across her face. "Does it matter?" She walked to him, and in a gesture that took him by surprise, lay her head on his shoulder. "I asked you to come because I wanted to be with you."

  His arms went around her, and gently, he pulled her close. His lips brushed against her hair, gliding down her neck to nuzzle the lobe of her ear. "I have been in torment since last night," he admitted. "I had decided to return home, but I could not leave you."

  Sabine had also been tormented, but she would not admit this to him. She understood about love now. Why did they have to be enemies? She pressed her lips against his, lightly touching, and then pulling away. "I am glad you did not return to England."

  "I could not go until I made a confession and extracted one from you." His eyes softened with an inner glow. "It's very simple, really. I love you." He gripped her arms, jerking her forward, his mouth grinding against hers in a kiss that made her feel as if she were falling into a bottomless chasm.

  He raised his head and stared into her eyes. "Tell me that you love me," he whispered in her ear. "Say it."

  The admission was torn from her lips. "I . . . do love . . . you." She loved him in every way a woman could love a man. She pressed her head against his shoulder as he triumphantly lifted her into his arms.

  "I knew you had to love me, or else there would be no meaning in this life."

  "I... don't want to love you."

  He carried her into the hallway and up the stairs. "Love does not seem a free choice." He smiled down at her. "Yet, I would have chosen you above all other women."

  She pressed her face against the rough fabric of his jerkin, too overcome with tenderness to speak.

  "Which is your room?" he asked, and she could feel the urgency in him, for it matched her own.

  Sabine nodded at her door and he opened it, carrying her inside.

  A single candle flickered low. He placed Sabine on her feet and untied her belt, sliding the dressing gown off her shoulders and allowing it to fall to the floor. He could only stare at her in wonder, for she wore nothing beneath the dressing gown.

  Sabine could hear his sharp intake of breath. When he unfastened her hair and allowed it to fall freely across her shoulders, she shivered as delightful feelings moved through her.

  With masterful hands, Garreth stroked up and down her arms, then lightly touched her breasts.

  Once she tried to protest, but he turned her toward him and smothered her lips with his, stopping her objections and cutting off her speech.

  She was existing in a dream state where touching, feeling, and the spoken word were all that mattered. Emotions exploded within her, and fire burned in her veins. His touch, his voice, his mouth were all that existed for her.

  She threw back her head as his mouth moved over her body in the most sensuous way, causing her to tremble in anticipation of what else he would do. He lay her on the bed and came down beside her, trailing his finger down her shoulder. "Are you sure you want this?"

  "Yes, Garreth, I am sure."

  Her eyes glistened like liquid gold in the soft candlelight. He was drawn further into her spell. He lifted a flaming curl and caressed it between his fingers. "1 have thought of little else save this moment. Now that it is here, I hesitate only because if I have you, I will never be able to let you go."

  His words were like wine to her. "Perhaps I shall be a disappointment to you," she murmured.

  His hand moved lower to lay gently against her flat stomach. "No, you could never be that."

  Sabine closed her eyes and groaned when his lips softly touched one breast and then moved to the other with the same gentleness.

  "I will make you forget everything but me," he said, allowing his hand to move lower, and still lower.

  Her skin was like velvet to his caress, and when she moved closer to him, inviting his kiss, he was mindless with desire.

  Cupping her head, his mouth moved against hers.. Garreth knew he wanted her for the rest of his life.

  When he drew her against his naked body, Sabine pressed tighter against him, reveling in the feel of his muscled thighs, and wanting to be closer to him—to be a part of his warmth—to be a part of his body.

  His breath was warm against her skin. She touched his hair, his face, running her finger over his lips.

  He groaned as her hand moved boldly across his hips.

  A sudden realization brought a stabbing pain to her heart—she loved him—oh, how deeply she loved him.

  She submitted willingly when he gently moved her legs apart and hovered above her. He attempted to keep his passion under control, but he had ached for her, and now he could not stop the fire in his body or the desire that raged out of control. His body trembled as he stabbed into her.

  Sabine had not expected the pain that ripped through her virgin body, and she cried out in surprise.

  She could feel Garreth tense, and he withdrew from her. Rolling over, he took several deep breaths to calm the thundering of his heart. "Why didn't you tell me?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Why did you allow me to believe you had already been with a man?"

  Sabine was glad for his anger, because it helped cool the intensity of her own feelings. She moved away from him, pushing her tumbled hair out of her face. "Is it a requirement that every lady you make love to tell you that she is a maiden still?"

  She was on her knees; the silky red hair that fell over her shoulder did little to cover her nakedness. It was difficult for Garreth to keep from reaching out and bringing her against his body.

  "You deceived me into thinking that Richard was your son," he accused.

  "No, I did not." Her eyes glinted and her breasts were heaving. "I told you that he is my brother."

  He did touch her now. His hand drifted through her hair. "You are every man's fantasy, but you have become my nightmare. Nothing about you is real. Are you an illusion that will disappear with dawn?"

  He had come too close to the truth. Boldly, she took his hand and laid it against her breast. "This is real. Is it not enough to know that you are the first man I have ever wanted to give myself to?"

  He jerked his hand away and drew in his breath, closing his eyes. "It is not enough. You have pulled me into a web of mystery that I don't understand. I sense destruction in you, and yet, I cannot leave."

  She tossed her hair and pressed her body against his, and he quaked from the magnitude of his need.

  "You do not want me?" she asked in a soft voice.

  "Want you? I know that if you left me now, I would never know a contented day for the rest of my life." He pressed her to him. "God help me, for I cannot help myself."

  That was the confess
ion she had been waiting to hear. Her lips parted as she moved toward him, and he was lost. The sweetness of her filled his mind, his heart, his whole being.

  Sabine did not remember drifting back against the pillow. She only knew that he was kissing her and calling her name over and over. When he entered her body this time, it was with gentleness, and she gasped with each thrust he made. The love between them seemed so pure, so right. If only ... if only....

  She tried not to think of the wonderful feelings that he aroused in her. In a moment of desperation, she sought his lips, biting until she brought blood.

  Pushing her away, he laughed and tested his lip. "Temptress, your teeth are sharp."

  Gathering her in his arms once more, his lips slid over hers, and she groaned as he moved sensuously within her. She gasped and her body trembled as his warmth spilled into her body and her body answered.

  His kiss was long and drugging. It felt as though every breath he took circulated through her body and they breathed as one.

  They lay there holding each other, both affected by what had happened between them. While Sabine curled against him she turned her head to look out the window, wondering if it were possible to love where one hated.

  Garreth allowed his hands to say what he was feeling as they gently slid over her body and then into her hair.

  The light fell across the bed, and Sabine turned to look into his eyes that were soft with an expression that took her breath away.

  "Garreth, I have often wondered about lovemaking, but I never imagined it would be so ... wonderful."

  He pressed her tighter to him, as if by doing so, he could absorb her into his body. "1 have never felt this way before." He touched his lips to hers and smiled. "You leave me breathless."

  "Then I pleased you?" She dropped her head against his chest, suddenly shy because of the intensity she saw reflected in his eyes.

  "I will never let you go now. We belong together, and you cannot deny it."

  She raised her head, daring to look into his eyes once more. This was the moment she had waited for, the moment she would seal her revenge—then why did it hurt so much? "Do you truly love me, Garreth?"

  He placed his finger over her lips. "I have an ache within me that only you can soothe. I want to be with you every day, to spend the rest of my life with you. What else can it be, if not love?"

  She hated the tears that spilled down her face at his admission. Sabine was caught in a trap of her own making. Was not this her moment of triumph? Why then did she want to feel his arms about her, holding her so tightly that when he took a breath she would feel it?

  She leaned back on her elbow, watching his handsome face in the soft moon glow. She could not think of him as the man who had destroyed her life. He was loving and kind. And, oh, how she wanted to be with him again.

  Garreth pushed her hair aside and touched her ear with his lips. "Let me hear you say how you feel about me.

  She let out her breath, knowing that the words she must speak were indeed the truth. "I love you from the depths of my soul, and I will love you until the end of my life."

  She heard his sharp intake of breath as he held her tightly. "And yet," he said in a painful voice, "I do not know who you are. I do not even know what to call you. I despise the name, La Flamme, because I know it is not really you."

  "I cannot tell you my name at this time. But I promise you, Garreth, that when you awake in the morning, the mystery about me shall be unraveled."

  He smiled softly and touched his lips to her cheek. "Why must I wait?" He kissed her lips and then raised his head. "I warn you, I am a jealous lover. I no longer want you to be onstage where other men can watch you and want you. You belong to me alone."

  How simple it would be, she thought, to admit to him that she was his wife, and that this was the last time she would ever be known as La Flamme. The words ached to be spoken, but she dared not. "I belong to you tonight, but beyond that, I can promise nothing."

  He laughed, feeling too sure of their love to be concerned. "You will never be free of me, nor, I think, will you want to be."

  "What future can we have together? You are an important man, a friend to the king, and I am merely an actress. Would you dare to introduce me to your king? Would you dare make me your duchess?"

  "Yes!" he said, coming to his knees and bringing her up with him. "Yes, 1 shall certainly present you to King Charles, and I will make you my duchess. I want you for my wife so no one will doubt that you belong to me."

  She knew what it meant for a nobleman as important as Garreth to offer marriage to a mere actress. She turned her face up to his and offered him her lips. There was beauty in their love, but there were also dark and sinister shadows that would soon rip them apart. It had to be, because the blood of her father stood between them like an avenging sword.

  Once more Garreth made love to her, and again she reveled in his touch. The night was spent in loving discoveries, and Sabine was saddened to see it end.

  It was almost morning when she slipped out of bed and moved to the bottle of wine on the low table. Garreth watched her in all her naked glory, thinking she was more beautiful than he had imagined. He, who had often scoffed at love, would never do so again.

  She returned with two glasses of wine, offering one to him. "A toast, I think."

  He smiled, taking the glass. "What shall we drink to?"

  "To the new day, when there shall be no more secrets between us, Garreth."

  "You make it sound so mysterious." He raised the glass to his lips, thinking it tasted bitter, but he drank it nonetheless.

  "When will you return to England?" she asked.

  He felt suddenly dizzy and waited for the sensation to pass. "As soon ... as you can ... come with me."

  He closed his eyes as her soft body pressed against his. Her lips covered his, and he could not stop the room from spinning.

  "Sorry, I..." He could not keep his eyes open and fell back against the pillow, lying very still.

  23

  Sabine kissed Garreth's lips tenderly before moving off the bed. There was an urgency about her as she quickly dressed. As she stood over his sleeping form, she thought how vulnerable he looked. Gently, she pushed a lock of dark hair from his forehead and bent once more to kiss his lips. To leave him was like tearing her heart from her body.

  She felt a pang of guilt for drugging his wine, but it had been necessary. She wanted desperately to lay down beside him and have his warmth fill her once more, but that could never be again. Last night was all they would ever have.

  "I love you," she whispered. "But you will never believe that after today."

  She placed a letter and Garreth's family ring on the pillow beside him. When next they met, the love she had seen in his eyes last night would have turned to hatred.

  She couldn't seem to leave. Her hand drifted across his chest as she memorized the feel of him.

  "You will understand many things when you waken, my dearest love," she whispered. "It was predestined that we would be enemies from the day we stood beneath the bowed branches and became man and wife."

  The blackness of night had given way to golden dawn when Sabine entered the de Baillard's home. Marie met her at the door with tears in her eyes. Sabine was enfolded in her arms and they wept together.

  "I always knew this day would come," Marie said, trying to regain her composure. "I told myself I would not cry when you left."

  "Dear Marie, Richard and I shall never forget you and Jacques. You have been our family for so long."

  "I'm glad you are going to have Ysabel with you. I would worry about you otherwise."

  Richard appeared beside them with Ysabel. "Marie," Richard said with a serious expression on his face, "when I am earl of Woodbridge, I shall expect you and Monsieur Jacques to visit me often."

  Marie tried to hide her tears, but still they spilled down her cheeks. "You'll be too grand for us, Richard."

  "Not you, Marie," he said earnestly. "As my siste
r told you, we are family."

  Sabine nodded in agreement. "You will be welcome wherever we are, Marie. Richard and I shall always want you and Jacques to be a part of our lives. Do not disappoint us."

  Marie looked doubtful. "There will not be a day goes by that we won't think of you. But we shall be happy in knowing that you will both be in your rightful place."

  "You will make certain to tell no one where we have gone," Sabine said.

  "No one will hear it from us. As you know, we arranged to leave for Florence this very day. When we return to Paris, we will simply say that La Flamme has retired from the stage."

  Jacques hung back in the shadows, and Sabine saw that he was having difficulty expressing his feelings. She moved into his outstretched arms. "I'm going to miss you, Jacques." She kissed him on the cheek. "You have been like a gentle father to me. I hope you will find another La Flamme."

  His eyes were swimming with tears as he raised her hand to his lips. "There was only one La Flamme, and Paris will never see the likes of her again."

  Garreth woke slowly, blinking his eyes and staring in bewilderment at the unfamiliar room. His head ached and his mouth was dry. When he sat up, he felt the room spin, so he buried his head in his hands.

  "Where the hell am—" Suddenly he remembered the night he had shared with La Flamme, and he jerked his head up, looking for her. She was not there. Her red dressing gown lay on the floor where he had dropped it when he undressed her last night.

  He staggered to a standing position, holding on to the bedpost to keep his balance. What had happened to him? He shook his head to clear it, then dropped back on the bed, trying to keep the room from spinning.

  Standing, he slowly dressed, then walked to the window, discovering to his surprise that it was long past noon. Sleeping late was not one of his habits. He smiled, but then last night had been like no night he'd ever known.