Gabrielle
Page 9
She focused on his face that seemed suddenly too close to her own. His mouth drew up on one side in an insolent grin, but his eyes held a gleam that she could not quite fathom. It frightened her, and she insisted that he put her down at once. She was surprised to find him carrying her up the stairs and into the hallway that led to the bedrooms.
“Captain! Please put me down. I’m quite able to put myself to bed, thank you! Chloe!” Her voice rose a little with her increasing nervousness. Where was that girl! And Pauline! Gabrielle gazed about her a little wildly and finally realized that she was not in her own home. “Where—where am I?” she questioned the man who still held her even as they entered a large, dimly lit room where the fireplace was sending out a comfortable warmth.
“You are in a friend’s house, kitten—a friend who conveniently agreed to let me stay here while I am in France.”
“And, pray tell me what I am doing here?” she demanded as he finally let her feet touch the floor.
His brow arched lazily as his eyes stripped her. “You made me a promise one night, kitten, on which I have decided to collect.” He waited as the realization showed in her eyes, a realization followed by horror at his intentions.
“What are you saying! You—you can’t bring me here like this and—and—”
“Make love to you?” he interrupted helpfully, calmly taking off his coat and cravat and laying them across the back of one chair. “Why not, my sweet?” He sat in the chair, preparing to take off his boots, and Gabrielle could only watch, paralyzed with fear and disbelief.
“You would save me from the attentions of lesser men—like M’sieur Aubremont—!” she began, venom in her voice.
“Only to save you for myself, kitten. Did you think I would allow that dandy to take for himself what I have fully intended to have since the first time I laid eyes on you?”
She was speechless, her mind refusing to function clearly. He stood up, unbuttoning the front of his shirt.
“I suppose you have been through all this a little earlier with Madame Cavounnais,” she spit at him, backing up as he came toward her, his shirt unbuttoned to the waist.
He laughed sardonically—almost brutally, she thought. “Do I detect jealousy? Then I am indeed flattered, kitten. But, for your own information, Martine did not get to that point this evening, although she tried her damnedest.”
“I’m surprised she would even have to try,” Gabrielle commented, hoping for a little more time. She glanced quickly around the room and measured her distance from the door. He caught her look and reached for her, catching the edge of her shawl and pulling it off her shoulders.
“I’m a seaman—remember, kitten—and men like me do not have much time. I want you, Gabrielle, and I mean to have you—now!”
“You’re—you’re despicable!” Gabrielle cried breathlessly, stepping behind a chair. “You just can’t carry me off and—and rape me!”
“And why not? If you will recall, when we discussed the possibility of blackmail, I assured you that I have no need of money.” He moved closer to her even as he spoke. “My price for silence is not gold, kitten—it’s you!”
She gasped and made a dash for the door even as his hand closed around her arm, jerking her to a sharp halt. He seemed content, for the moment, to hold her at arm’s length, and despite her considerable pulling and twisting, Gabrielle knew she would not be able to escape his hold. If only the effects of the champagne were not so apparent in the slowness of her reflexes, she felt sure she could have escaped him—another reason to curse M’sieur Aubremont, she thought bitterly.
After her struggles finally slowed and then ceased altogether, they stood looking at each other silently, she with furious despair in her eyes and he with a lazily arrogant smile playing about his mouth.
“Are you finished with your display?” he questioned, laughing at the spark of outrage rekindled in her eyes.
“I ask you to consider your actions, Captain Savage,” Gabrielle began, striving for calm, “for I can assure you that if you persist, you will pay for this—this disgrace!”
His left brow quirked upward. “Really? And what penalty must I pay, sweetheart?”
“Imprisonment, m’sieur, or worse! I—I have friends.” She uttered the words on a rising note of hopelessness, aware that he was pulling her closer to him.
“My beautiful little siren, I shall be gone by this time tomorrow. My business here in Paris is finished and I am on the early morning coach to Brest to catch my ship, the Vixen. It only remains for me to deal with you, kitten.”
Beside herself with rage, Gabrielle glared at him. “Deal with me! You speak as though I were some last-minute detail that you must take care of. Why, if you are leaving so soon, must you force your attentions on me? Go and find someone who would be glad to give you a suitable farewell.”
He laughed again as his other arm took possession of her waist, pressing her lightly against him. “Kitten, you astound me. I have always gone after a challenge, a trait I inherited from my father, I suppose, and it has always served me well in the past. Enough talk, though. Time grows shorter, and I am impatient.”
He calmly proceeded to unbutton the back of her gown, holding her against him so that her struggles were, for the most part, useless.
“Be still, kitten, can’t you see that I’m trying my best not to rip this gown? But, if you continue, I’ll have no choice but to tear it off you.”
“Must you live up to your reputation?” Gabrielle inquired bitingly, hating him so much at that moment that if she had had a knife she would not have hesitated to kill him.
She sought to twist out of his grasp as he backed away a little to push the gown from her shoulders, but in the next instant, her dress had slipped down around her ankles, and she crimsoned at the picture she must make to him in her chemise and petticoat.
Uttering a cry of despair, she felt his hands pulling at the thin silk of her chemise until it tore with a forlorn little sound, leaving her breasts naked to his gaze. Gabrielle hurriedly crossed her arms over her bosom, but found that her position only made it easier for him to strip her completely. Finally, she found herself standing before him completely nude with his hands resting lightly on her shoulders.
“I hate you! I hate you!” she cried out, tears of embarrassment and rage spilling unheeded down her cheeks.
She thought she would die from the look of savage passion he gave her as he disposed of his shirt, throwing it carelessly to the floor. He took her in his arms, pressing her so hard against him that her breasts were flattened against his chest. The feel of the crisp, dark hair against her skin made her shudder, and she tried harder to pull away. His thighs were hard against her legs as he arched her backwards and moved his head down to kiss her. His lips were demanding and almost brutal as his kiss deepened, and Gabrielle knew she would fall if he didn’t continue to hold her. She heard a soft whimpering deep in her throat and hated herself as he laughed softly against her mouth.
He kept on kissing her as he picked her up effortlessly and moved with her to the bed, the covers of which were turned down in blatant invitation. He laid her on the cool sheets as he straightened to take off his belt and breeches.
Gabrielle lay rigid with mingled fear and incredulity, but when she realized that he was quite naked, she gave a small shriek and made as if to scramble out of the bed. He sprang on top of her, knocking the breath out of her for a moment, and in horror she felt his flesh on hers.
“You—you must stop!” she pleaded when she managed to find her voice, her eyes widening in fear of the unknown.
His answer was to kiss her again, his hands moving possessively over her body as though to acquaint himself with it and commit its curves to memory. Gabrielle clenched her teeth and pulled her mouth away, her hands forming fists to beat on his shoulders and back. His victorious laugh only made her angrier, and she tried to draw up her knees to throw him off. But he was too strong, and her struggles only seemed to excite him further.
“Never!” Gabrielle cried furiously. “I’ll not submit like some tame cow, you hateful beast!”
He sighed softly and Gabrielle shrank as his hands seized her breasts in a movement that was brutal. “Then it is to be rape. I had hoped you would see reason, perhaps even be willing.”
He shrugged and lowered his mouth to her breasts, toying with the pink tips until Gabrielle begged for him to stop. He disregarded her pleas, and she felt the treachery of her own body as her nipples rose and tautened. His tongue traced their outline slowly, maddeningly, until Gabrielle heard a low moan begin in her throat and felt a strange warmth spreading in the pit of her belly.
Horrified at the unexpected reaction of her body, she sought to quell its awakening, but his hands persisted as they stroked her thighs, and his mouth would not leave her bosom. She arched reflexively underneath him and heard him laugh again softly, his hands parting her knees as he settled himself against her.
A slow, steady throb seemed to fill the length of her body and center in her belly as Gabrielle listened to Savage’s rapid breathing in her ear. He moved upward on her, fastening his lips once more on hers. And this time Gabrielle found herself accepting his kiss, returning it with a fervent passion that she seemed powerless to stem. Her mind screamed at her to stop, to think logically, but her body moved of its own accord, seeking with breathless curiosity the moment when she would be completely a woman.
He sensed the change in her emotions and redoubled his efforts until she was moaning with pleasure, her hands moving over his back with light, feathery touches, her eyes closed in an attitude of surrender. She started as his fingers moved up her thighs and found her center, working their magic so completely that her legs seemed to turn to jelly. She was too warm, and she tossed her head from side to side, her mind beseeching him to satisfy this excited anticipation that was nearly too much to bear.
“Captain—” The address seemed ridiculous now. “Rafe, please,” she whispered. She looked up to see his face above her, the eyes black with desire as he gazed at her silently. “Please,” she repeated, moving her hips against him, ashamed of her invitation but not able to stop it.
He smiled with the familiar mockery. “Please? Why, kitten, I only suspected the fires in you, it seems. Tell me what you want.” He was taunting her.
“I—I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do, kitten. Tell me.”
Gabrielle struggled against the humiliation, hating him for bringing her to this. “Don’t tease me,” she whispered, glad of the darkness that hid her blushing cheeks.
Still he continued to play with her, bringing her back again and again to the peak of excitement until she felt exhausted.
“Stop it! You’re—you’re being cruel!” she shouted at him, beginning to fight again.
She took him unawares and landed a crackling slap against his cheek. He stiffened against her, his body flattening until it felt like a slab of iron on top of her. His hands caught hers and pressed them back behind her head.
“Let me go! I hate you!” she spat at him.
“You hate me, but your body invites me to continue, kitten. Damn, but I can feel how moist you are, how ready,” he mocked her.
“You—you did this d-deliberately, to—to humiliate me,” Gabrielle was crying now, hating herself as much as she hated him. Tears wetted the pillow as she turned her, head away from his lips.
He forced it back and took her lips with unexpected savagery. “You’ll get what you want, kitten. Sheathe your claws, my love.”
Gabrielle felt his knees between her thighs, forcing them wide, as he poised himself for a moment, then drove into her. A startled cry escaped her as she felt the pressure within her, building up until she thought she would burst.
“You’re—you’re hurting me!” she cried, her body once more rigid with shock.
“Just for a moment. Relax, my sweet.”
He continued his attack, and Gabrielle felt a slow pain grasp her between the legs along with a sudden moistness, even as he buried himself deep within her. They lay unmoving for a moment, Gabrielle gasping for air as her breasts rose and fell rapidly. His head lay on her shoulder and his body began to move again. Gabrielle tried to move away from him, her thighs clenching from the unaccustomed ache.
“No, no!” she pleaded.
“It will be better now,” he murmured in her ear, his movements becoming more rapid.
An unbearable tension began building up within her, and Gabrielle waited breathlessly for release, sighing deeply as it finally came. It was true, she thought grudgingly, there was no more pain, just a tiny ache as he continued to move, building up to his climax.
He brought her back to that now-familiar anticipation, and she arched her back, moving her hips, meeting his thrusts until the release came again, for him, too. She lay back, her muscles relaxing as she closed her eyes in her pleasure. A long moan escaped her, and she felt his mouth on hers again.
“Contented?” she heard him say, a trace of insolence in his voice.
She refused to be drawn to the bait and remained silent, letting him have his way with her as he caressed her slowly and expertly. He slipped to her side and pulled her against him, her face turned into his shoulder.
Suddenly she felt terribly sleepy and totally exhausted. She felt his lips in her hair but was too tired to fight him any more and snuggled closer to his hard, lean frame.
Chapter Eight
Gabrielle awoke slowly the next morning, curling herself tightly and then stretching out luxuriously as she allowed herself a huge yawn of well-being. But her sense of comfort did not last long as the memory of the previous night gradually crowded into her consciousness—that, and the slight tenderness she still felt in certain areas of her body.
With growing panic, she opened her eyes wide and searched the room for any signs of her erstwhile companion. But, to her intense relief, she saw no one in the sparsely furnished room. She remembered now that he had said he was leaving on the first post to Brest, and so he must have slipped away before she awakened.
She was surprised he had not disturbed her sleep, for she could easily imagine the smug look of satisfied victory on his face. She cringed from the picture, nearly letting herself sink into self-pity. How she hated him! The physical evidence of his victory had stained the sheets a dark brown, but that she would not allow herself to think of. Still, it annoyed her to think that she had submitted so passionately to his demands. A dangerously clever man, she had to admit, for he had turned her surrender into a sensual passion of need, if not a complete willingness.
The humiliation caused her cheeks to burn and she buried her head in the pillow, only to take it out again at the sound of uneven footsteps in the hallway outside the door. Had he come back? She bit her lip in an agony of embarrassment, pulling the sheets over her shoulders. She could not endure another meeting with him! She waited, watching as the handle turned slowly and the door opened.
“Ma’m’selle!” Chloe stood, blinking in disbelief at the sight of her mistress.
“Chloe! What—what are you doing here?” Gabrielle half-whispered, wondering if she was dreaming.
Chloe’s eyes took in the rumpled bed covers and the other evidence of the night’s activities. She gulped audibly. “Oh, ma’m’selle. I—I, that is, a note was delivered to the house early this morning. A boy brought it to the door, and it said that I should come fetch you at this address.”
“And—and what is this address?” Gabrielle demanded sharply.
Chloe blinked again and looked at the other girl oddly. “Why, it is right next door to M’sieur Alexandre’s house. You mean, you did not know?”
Gabrielle struggled to keep her composure in the face of the maid’s stare. Damn that man! Damn him for playing such a despicable trick on her! Her increasing anger effective
ly wiped out any remaining embarrassment, and she thought of calling for the police to track down the rogue. But the futility of such a gesture struck her immediately, and she did not want her name bandied about in public as being a woman raped by a callous American pirate. She blushed at the thought and realized, with a wealth of bitterness, that the captain was no fool—how he must be laughing now!
She slipped out of the bed, careful not to reveal the bloodstained mattress. Her ruse, though, was fruitless, and she knew the maid was well aware of what had happened.
“Oh, ma’m’selle!” Chloe sighed, clapping her hands delightedly. “You and the handsome captain!” She glowed as she helped her mistress into her chemise, which was sadly torn along the neckline.
“Chloe! You will say nothing of this to anyone else. Do you understand?”
“Of course, ma’m’selle. I daresay, M’sieur Alexandre would be furious, would he not? But, of course, when the captain returns to ask for your hand—”
Gabrielle turned to her so swiftly that the maid took a step backward.
“The captain will not be returning, Chloe!”
Chloe was taken aback by her mistress’s vehemence. As soon as they had returned home, Gabrielle said, her voice breaking slightly in a nervous little rush, “I want you to go back to the house next door and take the sheets from the bed and bring them back here. Also, take this dress I have on and—and destroy it along with the sheets.”
Gabrielle saw her maid’s eyes grow round. “Oh, no! ma’m’selle, the dress is much too beautiful—and expensive! Surely, you cannot—”
“Chloe! You will do as I have requested!”
The maid hung her head and took the gown from her mistress as soon as Gabrielle had taken it off. Immediately, Gabrielle called for a bath and she was soon covered with bubbles, hoping that the soothing, scented water would take her mind off the previous night. She rubbed at her skin until it was grew pink from her roughness. She scrubbed her breasts, unmindful of the hurt. Hadn’t they betrayed her last night? She washed her hair vigorously, seeking to rid it of his odor of tobacco and leather and man’s sweat.