by Bobbi Smith
Worry about the uncertainty of the welcome she would receive assailed Jordan. She wondered if Luther would even take the time to listen to what she had to say. Were he to hear her out, she knew it would be a simple matter for him to call the authorities on the spot and have her arrested here, tonight. The thought filled her with trepidation, and she found her hands were trembling as she paid the driver.
"You all right, miss?" the cab driver asked, noticing how nervous she seemed.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Thank you," Jordan answered making a concerted effort to sound confident.
Money in hand, he gave a shrug of indifference, climbed back onto his seat, and drove off. Standing all alone on the walk with the expensive house looming over her, Jordan was tempted for a moment to turn and flee this madness. How could she believe Luther would listen to her? She knew what kind of man he was...
Had she not been stranded, her instant panic would have ruled. As it was, she took one last look around the dark, deserted neighborhood and then forced herself to grow calm.
Jordan had never considered herself a particularly adventurous soul, but the memory of everything Philip had told her gave her the nerve to go on. She had to do something. Drawing on an inner strength she'd never known she possessed, Jordan approached Luther's front door and bravely lifted the brass lion's head knocker and let it fall. It made a heavy, hollow, threatening sound in the night.
Luther laughed heartily at some witty remark one of his guests made as he took a deep, satisfying drink of the fine wine he'd chosen to accompany their meal. He'd been so excited about the way things had turned out with Philip St. James that afternoon that he'd been in the mood to celebrate. He'd invited several of his closer acquaintances to dine with him-Marcus Porter, one of his wealthiest investors; his beautiful, yet promiscuous wife, Helen; and James Tilly, a very influential banker in town. They'd just shared a marvelous gourmet meal.
"Luther, it's always a pleasure to dine here," Marcus, a heavyset, balding man in his late fifties, complimented as he saluted him with his crystal wine glass. "You always serve only the finest liquors. Your chef is beyond compare, and your home is simply magnificent."
"Thank you, Marcus," Luther was pleased with the praise. Egotist that he was, it reaffirmed his already well-entrenched feelings of superiority. He'd always made it a point to surround himself with beauty and luxury. He bought only the best of everything, for he believed he deserved only the best of everything. He was, after all, Luther Radcliffe.
"Luther, darling, when are we going to the opera again? I've missed our little excursions," thirty-yearold, voluptuous, red-haired Helen pouted as she leaned suggestively toward him. The dress Helen was wearing was very low-cut, and her movement deliberately exposed nearly all of her considerable charms to Luther's less than avid gaze.
Marcus was many years his wife's senior and had lost interest in the physical side of their marriage long ago. Sensuous woman that she was, Helen had been left to amuse herself with various diversions, all with her husband's full consent, of course. Luther had been one of those diversions, but she hadn't seen him in nearly a month. She missed their fiery encounters and the expensive trinkets he'd always bestowed on her afterward.
"I've been pretty tied up with business lately," Luther casually put her off, "but perhaps we can arrange something soon."
He'd enjoyed Helen's company, but the woman was so insatiable in bed that he'd found her a trifle boring after a time. And, while he did like her as a person, for she was as caustically witty and as amoral as he was, he had little interest in ever being with her again in that way. There was only one woman on his mind right now. He had no need for Helen when Jordan would soon be willingly satisfying his every desire.
"That would be lovely.. .we do have such a nice time together." She retreated gracefully, for she knew Luther was not the kind of man who could be pushed. Knowing him as well as she did, she realized that he had to be interested in someone else. The cat in her suddenly wondered who the other woman was.
"So tell me, Luther," James Tilly, a tall, middleaged man with dark hair and a flowing mustache, spoke up, reducing the tension of the moment, "what do you have planned for your next big venture?" Tilly's bank had backed Radcliffe and Associates numerous times throughout the years, and each investment had yielded a fabulous return.
"Well, I tell you, James..." He just started to expound on his next legitimate deal when his butler, Woods, appeared at the dining room doors.
"Sir?"
"Yes, Woods, what is it?" He was slightly annoyed by the interruption.
"There is someone here to see you, sir," the tall, distinguished, white-haired servant informed him.
"I'm entertaining, Woods. Tell whoever it is to see me at the office tomorrow," Luther said ismisssively.
"I already told her that, Mr. Radcliffe, but she insisted that you would want to see her now."
"She?" He was instantly alert, his blood suddenly racing through his veins. Was it Jordan? Had she come to him already?
"Yes, sir. She says it's important... something about a business offer you made to her brother?"
"Yes ...yes, of course." Luther tried to keep the eagerness out of his voice, but he was already pushing away from the table in his haste to rush from the room. "Show her into my study and make her comfortable. Tell her that I'll be joining her shortly after I say good night to my other guests."
Helen, Marcus, and James all exchanged surprised looks at his statement. They had expected this to be a late night. Obviously, whoever had shown up was very important to Luther, for it was unheard of for him to behave so badly in a social situation. He was generally the picture of decorum. Helen, in particular, was curious to discover who was there. To her annoyance, though, she was doomed not to find out.
Luther stalled in the dining room just long enough for the butler to usher his visitor from the hall. Only when he was certain she was out of sight did he make his excuses to his dining companions.
"If you will pardon the haste with which I bring this delightful evening to a close," he said, standing and heading toward the doorway, giving them no real choice in the matter.
"Of course," James and Marcus answered agreeably.
Successful dealings with Radcliffe and Associates were important to both their livelihoods. They didn't dare risk upsetting things. Helen, however, had no such compulsion. Her curiosity was driving her wild. When her husband and the banker preceded her from the room, she hung back a bit and then touched Luther intimately on the arm to get his full attention.
"Who is she, darling? Someone I know?" she asked.
"Hardly, Helen."
"Oh?" She arched a finely plucked brow at him. "She doesn't move in our circles, hmmm?"
"This is strictly a business negotiation," he provided coldly, trying to discourage her from any more speculation. He knew how vicious her tongue could be.
"So she's charging you, is she?" Helen gave a throaty gurgle of a laugh.
"Good night, Helen," Luther's tone was curt.
"Good night, Luther darling," she tossed casually over her shoulder as she finally followed Marcus from the room.
Luther was pleased to see that Woods had closed the study door behind Jordan. He didn't want anyone else knowing his private affairs. After seeing everyone out, he shut the front door and paused just long enough to straighten his tie and his cuffs. He was surprised when he turned to find Woods standing there waiting for further directions.
"You and the rest of the servants may take your leave now, Woods."
"Sir?" The butler's eyes rounded in amazement at such an unorthodox order.
"You may go, all of you. Take the night off. I won't be needing any of you again until sometime tomorrow morning. The later the better." Luther was firm, leaving no doubt about his wish to be completely alone in the house with Jordan.
"Yes, Mr. Radcliffe." Woods absented himself quickly from the hall and hurried to tell the other servants the good news.
Luther stood there j
ust a moment longer preparing himself for the encounter to come. Jordan... ah, Jordan.. .He'd anticipated this for so long, dreamed of this for so many nights, that he could hardly wait to throw wide the study door and sweep her into his arms.
Trouble was, Luther knew he had to stay in complete command of his passions. He couldn't let Jordan know how badly he desired her. He wanted to be in control of her, not the other way around. As he strode forth and opened the door, his smile was cool, his manner that of a man totally at ease with himself and his surroundings.
At the butler's direction, Jordan had taken a seat on the plush sofa in Luther's study. She was nervous, but managing to stay outwardly calm. This wasn't going to be easy, for she knew Luther was not the kind of man who took no for an answer. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap as she gathered strength for the confrontation to come. The sound of the door opening brought Jordan to her feet, and she turned to confront the man who controlled her destiny.
Jordan appeared a regal, elegant woman of the world, and Luther's eyes were riveted upon her. She was gorgeous. She was everything he'd ever wanted, and now he was going to have her. His chest swelled and heat rushed to his loins. Soon... very soon...
"Good evening, Jordan." Luther's deep voice held only a hint of the triumph he was feeling.
"Hello, Mr. Radcliffe," she answered coolly, determined to keep this on a business level only.
"Mr. Radcliffe? I thought we'd gone past that in our relationship, Jordan," he said smoothly. "Please, call me Luther."
"All right... Luther." It was difficult for her to get the words out, for he closed the door firmly behind him at just that moment. Something about the sound of the latch clicking shut made her nervous, but she fought it down. She told herself firmly that there was nothing to be afraid of.
"That's much better," he told her turning back to her with a warm, disarming smile.
Jordan watched Luther as he crossed the room. He seemed not at all threatening at the moment, but she knew better than to trust him. As he drew near she met his gaze and a shock of warning screamed through her. There was a look of pure, raw hunger reflected in the depths of his blue eyes. The realization struck her that he was nothing more than a very hungry predator and she was his prey. Her instincts warned her to flee. Necessity commanded she stay.
"Luther," she began, wanting to set things straight between them right from the start. "I came here tonight because..."
"I know why you came here tonight," he supplied, the flame in his eyes growing hotter. He had no desire for small talk. He only wanted to have his way with her as quickly as possible. He'd waited long enough.
Reading his avid regard correctly, she stiffened and replied, "No, I don't think you do."
"Come, come, my dear. Of course I know why you're here," he answered with confidence as he advanced even nearer. "Your brother's a sensible man. Obviously, he's explained the situation, and you've made the correct decision."
"I've made the correct decision, all right, but it isn't the one you think," she declared firmly.
Luther wasn't really listening. He was concentrating on how wonderful it was going to be to release her hair from its tight bun and strip away all her clothing. "I promise you, Jordan," he said with fervor. "1,11 see that you never regret it." He reached for her.
Jordan sidestepped him evasively, saying with emphasis as she did so, "I don't think you understand, Luther. I only came here to talk, nothing more."
"Talk? We can talk later..." The heat in his loins driving him, his need for her was nearly obsessive. He was sure she was playing some kind of game with him.
"I want to talk now, not later," Jordan insisted as she maneuvered herself to put the desk between them.
"What about?"
"About Philip's and my investments..."
Luther was not at all amused by being put off, and his expression grew cold and ominous. In a taut move, he rested both hands on the desktop and leaned toward her. "What exactly did you want to know?"
His gesture was not physically threatening in itself, yet Jordan felt the inherent danger in his stance and recognized the growing anger in his eyes. "I wanted to know how we can work things out and come to an understanding..."
"There's nothing to come to an understanding about, Jordan. Your money is gone. There's nothing left."
"There's got to be something that can be done ... something we can do..."
His icy regard swept her body with insulting familiarity, lingering on the curve of her breasts and then dropping lower to the juncture of her thighs. "It's a very simple matter, really, just as I told Philip."
Jordan wished there was some way she could shield herself from his hungry gaze, but she knew it would never do to cower before him. Instead, she held herself unflinchingly erect to answer him. "You want me to become your mistress."
"That's right. You can settle this upsetting little matter between us right now, without further delay."
"What you call an upsetting little matter is my brother's and my future! You've lost-all our money and now you want me to pay an even bigger price!"
"I'd hardly call being my mistress and having your every wish granted `paying a bigger price,' Jordan."
"Then you don't know me very well," she retorted, growing angry in the face of his lust-inspired avarice.
"I know you're a beautiful woman and that I desire you. What else is there to know?"
His words were spoken so flippantly that Jordan was taken aback. "There must be other women who would jump at the chance to be your mistress. Why don't you get one of them?"
"I don't want them, Jordan. I want you."
"Why would you want a woman who doesn't love you?" she finally cried in exasperation.
"Love has nothing to do with what I want from you," Luther said coldly. "Now, enough talk. Do you become my mistress, now, here, tonight? Or do you and your brother end up facing prison and possibly the gallows?"
"But I don't want you!"
"I'm going to change all that," he said in a low voice as he advanced toward her. "Before I'm done with you, you're going to be begging for my favors and wanting to please me in every way. I'll make sure of it!" He was upon her before she could escape. Grasping her by her upper arms, he hauled her against him and kissed her hungrily.
Jordan found Luther's embrace vile and disgusting. When he forced her lips apart and thrust his tongue into her mouth, she nearly gagged. The need to fight him rose up within her, and with all the strength she could muster, she shoved hard against his chest. She was thrilled when she managed to break away from him.
"Stay away from me, Luther! I told you! I won't become your mistress!" She felt dirtied by his touch.
Holding her so close and kissing her had sent Luther's desires raging out of control. Jordan was more exciting, more enticing, than he'd ever imagined. Instead of putting him off, her reluctance only excited him all the more, stirring his ardor and goading him to prove himself to her. The thought of changing her protests to purrs of contentment challenged him.
"As I see it, you really have no choice in the matter," he announced with great satisfaction. "Now, you can make this pleasant for both of us or I can take these to the proper authorities." Luther always carried his important papers in a folder with him wherever he went, and he lifted it from the desk to show her. "Philip had obviously told you what this is, hasn't he?"
"Yes." Jordan could feel herself growing pale beneath the onslaught of his cold, calculating viciousness.
"It's very damaging, this information I have on the two of you, and I'm sure the authorities would love to get their hands on it. So as I see it, you really have only two choices, Jordan. You can relax, enjoy my company, and take advantage of all the wonderful things I can give you, or I can turn this over to the proper officials and see you and your brother go to jail for a long, long time," he announced, quite pleased with himself. "Now, Jordan, you decide. Which one will it be?"
She stood rigidly before him, her anger and out
rage filling her. Luther was nothing but an animal ... an animal driven by greed and lust...
Luther took her momentary silence for surrender. Feeling he had his long dreamed of ecstasy within reach, he tossed the folder back down on the desk and reached for her.
"No matter how much you deny it, you're going to enjoy being in my bed, Jordan. There are things I can give you, things I can do to you that will leave you crying out for more. I can hardly wait to have you beneath me..."
"No! I won't submit to you! Philip and I will fight you every inch of the way! There's got to be someone who will listen to us and believe that we had nothing to do with a slave ship! We'll demand an investigation and..."
Her continued refusals infuriated him, and her threat of an investigation sent Luther's temper soaring. He had to stop her foolish protests, and he had to stop her now. What better way than by forcing her to his will?
He grabbed her and yanked her to him, his mouth swooped down to cover hers as his hand ripped at the buttons on her jacket. It took only a second for him to part the cloth, push aside her blouse, and seek out the fullness of her naked breasts. His boldness was such a shock to her that she went rigid for an instant, then she began fighting him with all her might. With ferocious intent, she hit at him, trying to stop him, trying to free herself from the abomination of his touch.
Luther only lifted his head long enough to laugh at her feeble attempts. "You can't escape me, Jordan. You're mine. I will have you tonight!"
He pressed his hips hard against hers as he dragged her back to him for another kiss. His fierce hold almost cut off her breath, and he took advantage, bending her back over the desk, pressing between her thighs and moving against her erotically to let her know exactly what he wanted to do to her.
"Damn you, Luther! Leave me alone! Don't do this!" Jordan was desperate. She could barely breathe or think. This monster was stripping away her clothes, touching her bare flesh, and there seemed nothing she could do to stop him. She tried to twist away, but he held her easily. The edge of the desk was cutting painfully into the backs of her legs as his weight came down more fully upon her.
