Compulsion

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Compulsion Page 12

by Charlotte Lamb


  Lissa stood by the porthole in his cabin staring out at the sunlit water. 'You're very rich, aren't you?' Her voice came thin and dry like smoke.

  Luc didn't answer for a moment, then he said in a flat voice, 'Yes. Very.'

  'You lied to me about your job, didn't you? You don't deal in stocks and shares.'

  'Yes, I do,' he said. -

  She swung then, her face angry. 'Dandy laughed when I asked him if you were a stockbroker.'

  Luc's mouth flicked sideways in grim amusement. 'Did he, damn him?'

  'What do you do? Who are you?' she insisted.

  'I am myself,' Luc said calmly. 'That's all you need to know.'

  'Are you a criminal? Are you a gangster like Chris?' she asked feverishly. 'I've let you talk me into leaving Chris, but what do I know about you?'

  Luc surveyed her without speaking, his face taut and set. 'You don't know anything,' he agreed. 'You're going to have to take me on trust, Lissa. You've little choice.'

  'Why won't you tell me anything about yourself?' she demanded in rising tones.

  'Why should I?' Luc asked drily. 'If you can't bring yourself to accept me without some sort of affidavit for my character, you're going to have to grin and bear it.'

  'I don't trust you,' she muttered hoarsely.

  'So I see,' Luc drawled.

  'You can't find that surprising!'

  'You trusted Brandon until I made you see him as he really was,' Luc came back tightly.

  'I've known Chris all my life. He's looked after me and cared for me.'

  'And wanted you,' Luc said in a low harsh voice.

  Lissa bit her lip and looked at the floor.

  'You were ready to give yourself to him without knowing a damned thing about him. You can do the same for me,' said Luc, and her throat hurt as she swal­lowed.

  She couldn't look up or answer. Luc waited, watch­ing her,

  'No comment?' he asked coolly. 'Very wise.'

  'What comment do you expect me to make? A re­mark like that doesn't deserve an answer.'

  His face was hard, his eyes narrowed. 'You came with me—you knew what that would mean.'

  Lissa felt a shiver run down her spine. 'You offered to help me get away from Chris. I didn't realise you were putting a price tag on your help,' she said con­temptuously.

  Luc laughed grimly. 'Oh, you knew all right. You may be a little naive, but you aren't totally stupid. I made no secret of what I would expect, and you under­stood the situation, however much you may deny it now.'

  'I might have known you were every bit as much a ruthless swine as Chris!'

  'You might, indeed,' he drawled. 'Poor Lissa—what, a predicament!'

  The unhidden mockery stiffened her spine. She glared at him, her eyes alive with anger. 'I'm glad you think it's so funny!'

  He leaned against the cabin wall, his arms folded. 'You can always swim back to him. It isn't very far—around seventy miles, I suppose. But you're a good swimmer, aren't you? If the sharks don't get you, it won't take more than a few days.'

  'Given a choice between you and the sharks, I might well prefer the sharks,' Lissa muttered through her teeth.

  His blue eyes hardened. 'Ah, but I'm afraid you won't be given the choice. I've got you and I'm keeping you.'

  Very flushed, she said furiously: 'You have not got me!'

  'It's only a matter of time,' Luc pointed out silkily. He moved and she leapt back towards the door, her nerves jangling. Luc laughed, giving her a wry look. 'Don't get uptight just yet. I'm in no hurry. Love in the afternoon is a taste I've never acquired.' He opened the door and gave her a derisory little bow. 'After you.'

  Lissa shot through the door like a scalded cat, Luc came after her and said lightly: 'I've got some work to do. Why don't you relax on the deck again? I'll see you later.'

  She stayed on the deck, as he had suggested, but there was no relaxation involved. She was tense and disturbed as she watched the water creaming along in their wake. Once Dandy wandered up to talk to her, but most of the time she spent alone with her thoughts, and she did not enjoy them very much.

  The sun went down with that abrupt and startling rush which always signalled nightfall. Dandy smiled at her as she came down into the cabin to eat the light, evening meal. 'Enjoying your cruise?'

  She pretended to laugh. 'Very much.'

  Dandy went out and Luc eyed her sardonically. He knew she was lying and the blue eyes told her as much.

  When they had eaten and Dandy had vanished, Luc put a record on the turntable fitted into the wall of the cabin. Lissa nervously sat on the leather couch which, like the rest of the furniture, was stabilised so that it did not shift with the motion of the yacht.

  'I'm rather tired,' she said huskily. 'The sea air, I suppose, I think I'll go to bed early.'

  Luc sank down beside her, his arm sliding along the back of the couch behind her. 'That sounds promising.'

  She sat upright, giving him an angry look. 'I've no intention of going to bed with you, Mr Ferrier, so you can forget it!'

  He laughed. 'What an optimist you are!' His fingers had touched the edge of her sweater sleeve. They slid in under the cuff and stroked her wrist. It was a tantalisingly intimate little movement and the hairs on the back of her neck prickled with awareness.

  'Brandon never even got to first base with you, did he?' Luc murmured, his body moving closer. Lissa tried to shift away, but he followed, his thigh pressing alongside her own. 'I felt quite sorry for him the night I followed the pair of you down to the beach.'

  She threw him an accusing glance. 'I heard you lurk­ing about in the trees.'

  His mouth curled. 'Was that why you were so re­luctant with him? He was going crazy and it was ob­vious you were keeping him at bay. Was that for my benefit?'

  'I didn't know it was you. I just heard movements and then when we walked into you, I guessed you had been eavesdropping.'

  'I was curious,' he admitted calmly. His hand was behind her head now, playing with her hair, twisting it round a finger and then releasing it.

  'Curious about what?' she asked, feeling that fondl­ing hand with extreme wariness.

  'You,' he said with a wry smile. 'You were puzzling me. I couldn't make up my mind which image of you to believe. One minute you were blushing like a school­girl, the next you were on stage singing very sexy songs and giving the audience come-hither smiles.'

  'I did nothing of the kind!' she burst out, glaring at him.

  His fingers wriggled under her hair and lightly stroked along her nape, sending quivers of reaction down her spine.

  'Stop that,' she whispered unsteadily.

  Luc smiled at her, mockery in the blue eyes. 'Why should I? I'm enjoying it.' She began to get up and his arm fenced her between his body and the end of the couch, forcing her to lean back. 'Stay where you are,' he commanded, and her eyes fell away from his.

  'Where was I?' he murmured. 'Ah, yes—Brandon. From what I overheard on the beach that night I gathered with some surprise that he hadn't yet man­aged to get you into bed.'

  Lissa's face burned. 'Mind your own business!'

  'I could see that Brandon was almost at the end of his tether. It was equally obvious that you were hav­ing no problems at all in resisting him. The poor devil had to work like mad to get as much as a kiss out of you.'

  Lissa did not want to remember Chris's aroused ex­citement. She gave Luc a cold look. 'Can we change the subject?'

  'No, we can't,' Luc said forcibly, 'I'm trying to get you to admit something and you're going to listen.'

  'What do you want me to admit? That I didn't go to bed with Chris? Very well, I didn't, but it still isn't your business.'

  'I don't need to be told you didn't, I was already cer­tain of it,' Luc said curtly. 'No, Lissa. What you're going to admit is that you were never even tempted to give in to him.' He paused and she said coldly:

  'So?'

  'But when I made love to you it took me about five minutes to break down those
barriers of yours.'

  He was watching her intently as he said the last words. He saw the deep, betraying colour sweep up her face, the widened shock in the green eyes. Lissa hurriedly looked away from his scrutiny.

  'Now didn't it?' he asked softly.

  'You didn't give me much option,' she muttered, her head bent.

  He laughed quietly. 'Don't lie. Brandon was equally insistent and it got him precisely nowhere. It never had, had it? That wasn't the first time he'd been going spare without so much as rousing a flicker in you.'

  She drew a quick, harsh breath.

  'That's why he had hung on so patiently, month after month, when he could have married you long ago. He knew damned well he wasn't getting to you. You said you loved him and there was nobody else around, but every time he touched you he knew you weren't feel­ing a thing.'

  It was true. She had been alarmed rather than aroused, worried rather than excited, when Chris tried to make love to her. And Chris had known, of course. He was too experienced not to know.

  She lifted her head and stared at Luc, frowning. 'Can we talk about something else? I just want to forget about Chris.'

  'Not before you face facts,’ Luc insisted flatly. 'You were never in love with him. You may have thought you were, but it was just old affection. I don't want you carrying any images of Brandon around inside your head. He was a dangerous thug and if you'd married him you would have led a miserable life.'

  'If I hadn't realised that, I wouldn't have left,' she said huskily.

  'But you still haven't entirely faced up to it,' Luc retorted. 'Or you would never have come into the gam­ing rooms to kiss him goodbye. You had a romantic picture of him and even though you're disillusioned about him now, you still feel something.' He slid a hand under her chin and lifted her face. 'It was all an illusion, Lissa. Your subconscious knew that. That's why you would never let him make love to you. You didn't want him.' He drew a long, unsteady breath. 'But you want me.'

  'No,' she said hurriedly, before his mouth closed demandingly over hers and silenced her.

  Her heart began beating so fast she felt giddy. The yacht seemed suddenly to be going round in circles, making her head spin, her mind dissolve. Her ears were deafened by the rush and roar of her own blood.

  The insistent pressure of his mouth, the slow caress­ing movements of his hands as they slid under her sweater and moulded her body softly between them, made her shudder in fierce response.

  She tried to wrench her head away, but Luc's hand fixed it there while his lips forced hers to part and moistly invaded her mouth. Hating herself, helpless to do anything to halt her own response, she trembled in his arms. Her arms moved to enclose his head. She began to return his kisses with a heat which flew out of her control within minutes.

  Luc's kisses deepened, heated, commanded more and more response. Lissa made no further attempt to halt him. When his fingers brushed lightly, coaxingly down her skin she moaned, her own hand tracing the arch of his back, tunnelling beneath his sweater, her finger­tips feeling the tiny hairs, the flexed muscles, the bone and sinew beneath the smooth skin.

  Her exploring fingers found a small scar marring the back of his shoulder and ran over it, following it. Luc lifted his head, his breath coming raggedly. 'A fight with a shark,' he breathed, laughing.

  'Why are you so reckless?' Lissa groaned.

  'It's my nature,' he told her casually. 'Take me as you find me, Lissa.' He paused and their eyes met. 'Are you going to take me, Lissa?' he asked in that husky, im­peded voice.

  He slid his hand gently up her body. She felt the cool trail of his fingertips on her breast and her body winced with a pleasure that was like pain. Luc outlined the high, soft peak with delicate brushes of his fingers. She closed her eyes, moaning, and heard him laugh under his breath.

  'Brandon never made you feel like this, did he?' he asked as he took her mouth again, his lips hard and hot.

  She had meant to fight, but it was like fighting life itself. Everything alive in her craved for what he was doing. She was only denying herself if she denied him.

  His hands travelled down her again. She felt the zip of her jeans slide down and her body tightened. She pushed Luc's hand away, pulling her head back to exclaim angrily: 'No!'

  His hand had slid inside her jeans before she could halt it again. Luc stroked her bare midriff and Lissa shook violently at the warm, intimate caress.

  'No?' he whispered, smiling.

  She closed her eyes. 'Please, Luc, give me time. You're rushing me.'

  'I want to hear you admit you want me,' Luc mut­tered, his face buried in her throat. He kissed the throb­bing pulse which was making it very clear how far he had aroused her. 'You never wanted Brandon, Lissa, but you want me.'

  'Yes,' she moaned, giving up. the struggle to resist. It was taking all her energy, exhausting her. The tidal beat of passion had too much force in it and she was tired of struggling against it.

  Luc gave a long, hoarse sigh of satisfaction. For a long moment he lay still, his lips at her neck, then he sat up and gave her an intent stare.

  'Now look at me and let me hear you say that again,' he said in a quiet voice.

  Lissa stared at him dazedly. 'What?'

  'I'm not touching you now,' he pointed out, lifting his hands to show her. 'I'm not rushing you. Be honest, Lissa. When you came with me you knew what you were doing, didn't you? You weren't just walking out on Brandon, you were choosing me.'

  Her eyes moved away; she swallowed painfully.

  'Weren't you, Lissa?' he insisted.

  'I don't know,' she whispered. 'Why can't you give me time to think? How do I know what I feel?'

  'I could tell you,' Luc said drily, 'But I suppose you wouldn't want to hear.' He stood up and moved away. 'You'd better get off to bed.'

  She didn't move, staring at the back of his head. Luc looked at her over his shoulder, his face set. 'Alone,' he expanded flatly. 'I've no intention of forcing myself on you tonight.'

  With trembling fingers she zipped up her jeans, pulled down her sweater. As she stood up she swayed and Luc turned to support her.

  'What's the matter, Lissa?' he asked mockingly. 'Feel­ing weak?'

  She felt a flare of rage as she looked at the smile he was giving her. 'I'm tired,' she said, moving away from him.

  'Oh, is that it?’

  She didn't bother to reply to that. She made her way to the door and said flatly, 'Goodnight,' as she left the cabin.

  She heard him murmur 'Goodnight,' and closed the door. Her own cabin seemed very small and very quiet. She undressed and got into her bunk. There was no sign of Fortune. Dandy must have him in-his quarters, she recognised, and guessed that that had been Luc's idea. His plans for the night had not included the presence of her dog.

  Lissa turned on to her face and hated herself. Her few token efforts to resist him had been easily con­trolled. She had been a pushover for him. Why am I such a fool? she asked herself, and had no answer to give.

  Chris's urgent lovemaking had merely worried her. Luc somehow managed to light a quick-burning fuse inside her every time he touched her.

  How long would it take them to get to England? She had little money and she knew nobody in England. She was as much at Luc's mercy as she had been at Chris's. If Luc could beat down all her weak struggles in one evening, what chance had she got of holding out against him until they reached England? And even if she did, what was she going to do once she left the yacht?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Faint white ribbons of light drifted across the cabin when Lissa opened her eyes next morning. They had sailed into mist, and whoever was in charge of the yacht had switched on an intermittent hooter which gave hoarse sighs every now and again. Lissa lay listening to them, staring at the ceiling. There was a strong swell this morning. The yacht flounced like an angry woman and she wasn't sure her stomach altogether approved of the motion.

  There was a tap at her door. 'Come in,' she called in a slightly n
ervous voice.

  Dandy appeared with a tray. 'Morning, princess,’ he said cheerfully, shooting a quick look at her. 'Misty, but it's beginning to clear.'

  'The boat keeps rolling about,' Lissa complained.

  Dandy grinned. 'You wait until we're right out in the Atlantic!'

  She made a face, 'I think I'd rather get off now.'

  He eyed her consideringly. 'Feeling queasy, are we?'

  'A little,' she admitted.

  Dandy glanced down at the tray. 'Want this?' He un­covered a plate of bacon and egg and Lissa turned her head away, her nostrils wrinkling at the odour.

  'Not much,' she muttered, swallowing. 'I'm sorry.'

  'You've got to eat something,' Dandy assured her. 'Have some dry toast.'

  She was reluctant to eat anything, but he insisted that she nibble a little toast and drink some of his strong coffee. 'Little dog slept with me,' he told her as he walked back to the door. 'He's up on deck getting some exercise on a rope.'

  Lissa lay in the bunk for half an hour slowly adjust­ing to the pitch and swell. When she felt strong enough she got up and dressed.

  As she emerged from the shelter of the gangway the wind almost lifted her like a doll. She grabbed at the rail and heard voices.

  Luc's rose curtly. 'Mind your own damned business!'

  'Don't take that tone with me, boy,' Dandy growled. His eyes flicked towards her over Luc's shoulder and his face changed. 'Morning, miss. Managed to get up, did you? Good girl!'

  Luc did not turn. He stood with his back to her and Dandy glanced at him before shrugging and walking away.

  Lissa looked at the straight, lithe body turned away from her, then she walked to the rail and looked out over the ocean. She heard Luc move, heard the slow fall of his steps. He came to a stop beside her and his stare probed her profile, reading her mood in the tight­ness of her skin.

  'Dandy says you felt sick this morning. Better now?'

  'Much, thank you.'

  'You've never done any sailing before?'

  'Only a little around the island.'

 

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