by Bobbi Smith
"But Adam . . . have I done something wrong?" was all Lianne could say, for she was stunned by his coldness. She suddenly felt chilled to the bone. Was this the man who just a short time before had cradled her in his arms and taken her to the heights of ecstasy? The beauty of what had happened between them was a rapidly fading memory. It its place came doubts, and confusion, and finally anger when he didn't respond right away.
Adam wished he had the bottle of bourbon with him. At this moment his need for a strong drink was overpowering. He girded himself as he turned to face Lianne. He kept his expression stony as he stared down at her, ignoring the hurt shining in her luminous eyes. He had to sever this intangible thing that existed between them, and he had to sever it now.
"Everything is wrong, Lianne. I'm sorry. I never meant for this to happen. What happened here tonight was a terrible mistake." There, he thought, it was out. Though making love to her had been the most exciting encounter he'd ever experienced, he knew it could never be repeated.
Terrible mistake! The words echoed hollowly through Lianne, and the night lost all of its magical glow as she stared up into the coldness of his gaze. The warmth she'd thought she'd seen reflected there earlier was gone. The tenderness she'd imagined in his manner had been just that, her imagination. In its place came the harsh truth —at the lowest moment of her life, when she'd been hurt and defenseless, Adam had used her. He'd known exactly what to say and what to do to encourage her to surrender to him, and she'd fallen into his trap like the naive innocent that she was. She'd been willing, and he hadn't hesitated to take that which she'd given.
Lianne was furious with herself, and she berated herself silently for having forgotten just what a rotten bastard Adam Trent really was. She grabbed up her clothing and began to dress. When she'd finished, she turned on him.
"You're right, Adam. This was a mistake! A big mistake! But you needn't worry that it will ever happen again. Believe me, the last thing I'd ever want is a repeat of tonight!" She finally managed to vent some of her wrath as her pride began to return.
Her words cut Adam to the quick, but he refused to acknowledge the hurt. This was what he wanted. He wanted her to avoid him and now she would. He knew he should have felt victorious, but he didn't. Instead, as Adam watched her disappear into the house, he felt empty and hollow.
Adam waited several minutes before following Lianne back indoors. He made his way slowly to the study and went straight to the bourbon. Adam skipped his glass altogether now and drank directly from the bottle, wondering all the while why his need for revenge suddenly seemed so jaded to him.
It was a dark and quiet night in New Orleans. Settled in for the evening, Nurse Halliday was startled by the unexpected knock at the door. She hastened to answer it, thinking that it was probably her employer. She'd known that Mr. Trent had been out of town for the past week and had missed his regular visits to Miss Elise.
"Dr. Williams!" She was surprised to find the doctor paying a call at such a late hour. He had already made his regular call earlier that morning, and she had not expected him back until the following day.
"Good evening, Nurse Halliday. May I come in?" the good doctor asked.
"Of course, Doctor. Please." She held the door wide for the physician and then closed and locked it securely behind him. "Is something wrong? Is that why you've come?"
"No, Nurse. Everything is fine," he reassured her. "I just thought I'd stop by and see how my patient was doing. Has she retired for the night yet?"
"No, sir. She's in her room."
Nurse Halliday led the way upstairs to Elise's quarters.
"Miss Elise . . . Dr. Williams is here to see you," she called out as she knocked softly on the partially closed door and then went in.
Elise was sitting in the wing chair and appeared to be staring out the window. She did not respond in any way to their entrance into her room.
"I'll leave you with her now, Dr. Williams. If there's anything you need, just send word."
"Thank you."
David Williams remained standing near the door, studying his patient. He thought her case a particularly tragic one. She was beautiful and had everything to live for . . . a bright future with a loving fiancé . . . and yet here she was, trapped in a mute, wasted existence.
The tragedy of Elise Clayton's illness, however, was not what had brought David here tonight. It had been something else. Something that had happened at their session that morning, and it had been haunting him ever since. It had seemed to him, for just an instant during the course of his talking to her, that there had been a flicker of awareness in her lovely, blue-eyed gaze. It had come and gone so quickly that, at the time, he'd thought he had imagined it. But the more he'd dwelt on it as the hours had passed, the more he'd become convinced that something had happened. In fact, the feeling had become almost obsessive, and David had found himself canceling a dinner engagement just to return to see her again.
"Elise?" David said her name in a questioning, conversational tone as he drew a straight-backed chair along with him and sat down before her. "Elise, it's me, Dr. Williams. I thought I'd come back and see you again."
She gave no recognition that she was even conscious of his being there.
"You see, I've been thinking about you all day, and I wanted you to know that I really believe you're going to get better."
David waited. Nothing.
David tried to remember exactly what it was he'd been talking about that morning that had seemed to touch a chord of response within her, but he could recall no one particular subject. He had just been making idle, yet encouraging conversation, much as he was now. At a loss to duplicate his earlier efforts, he just began to talk with her as he would a good friend, pausing in his monologue every now and then to wait in patient silence, in hopes that she might be moved to speak up.
David watched her face intently as he spoke, studying her delicate features for some sign of change. He noticed, not for the first time during his long weeks of treating her, how lovely she was in spite of her withdrawn state. His heart ached to be able to heal her. He wanted her to improve. He wanted to hear the sound of her voice, of her laugh. He found himself wondering what she liked and what she disliked. In a moment of unprofessional desperation, he took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips.
"Elise . . . talk to me . . ." he commanded in a strained voice.
Somewhere in the distant recesses of Elise's mind something stirred, beckoned by a soft, urgent call. A part of her urged her to respond to the call as a seedling does to the warmth of the sun, but another part of her shrieked a fearful warning. There was no gentleness in the real world. There was only pain and death! Memories of her Aunt Odile being raped and killed and of her own attackers swarmed through her mind and cut off the sound of the coaxing male voice. Quickly, her consciousness dissolved into forgetfulness, safe and protected from life's gruesome ugliness.
It was several hours later when David finally gave up. It had been a long day, and an even longer evening, for Elise hadn't shown any improvement. He was exhausted. In a weary motion, he raked his hand through the darkness of his hair and then rose from the chair. He paused only long enough to touch Elise's cheek in a light caress before quitting the room. Though his spirits were low over his lack of success, he knew even as he left the house that, in the morning, he would begin again. Somehow, he was going to find a way to release her from her self-imposed prison and set her free.
Lianne paced her room impatiently waiting for Sarah to bring her bath. She was anxious to scrub every inch of her body so she could erase all memory of Adam's touch from her flesh. When the knock came at her door, she answered it eagerly, expecting it to be Sarah.
"Come in, Sarah. I — " She started in surprise to find Becky standing there in the hall wearing her wrapper. "Oh . . . Becky . . ."
"I heard you moving around in your room, and it's so late, I was wondering if something's wrong?" Becky had not had the opportunity to speak with Lianne sinc
e she'd returned from her visit to her uncle's. "Did things go all right in town?"
Still not adept at hiding her emotions, Lianne's expression gave away her concern. Before she could say any more, Becky spoke again.
"Something is wrong, isn't it?" she asked, her dark eyes suddenly filled with sympathetic worry. "Why don't you tell me about it. Maybe Adam and I can help you in some way."
"I don't want or need your help," Lianne answered stiffly, not wanting anything to do with Adam Trent ever again. All she wanted to do was to somehow survive.
"I'm sorry I intruded, Lianne. I just thought you might need a friend," Becky told her softly as she turned to go.
When she saw the hurt suddenly reflected in the other woman's gaze, Lianne realized how wrong it had been to strike out at her. Becky had been nothing but kind to her and Alex, and she knew her curtness had been uncalled for.
"Becky . . ." Lianne stopped her from leaving. "You're right. Things aren't turning out quite the way I thought they would."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Becky was not going to force Lianne to confide in her. If they were to become friends, it would have to be something they both wanted.
Lianne nodded and she opened the door wider to allow Becky to come into her room. "It might help."
"What happened in town? Did you get everything straightened out with your uncle?"
Lianne's eyes clouded as she explained her predicament. "So, in effect, Alex and I are destitute until I come of age in ten months." She gave a heavy sigh. "I'm not sure what I'm going to do next. Uncle Antoine is the only family Alex and I have, but there's no way I could ever go back to him."
"Of course not!" Becky was outraged by all that she'd heard. "You shouldn't ever have to go back to him! Why, if I were a man, I'd call him out for what he's done to you!"
"Please! Don't say that!" Lianne quickly protested at the thought of dueling. "It wouldn't be worth it."
Becky flushed, realizing her mistake as she remembered the story of Lianne's older brother's death. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just so unfair that he's managed to steal your inheritance and get away with it!"
"I know, but there's nothing more I can do. Our trust funds are still intact, but I can't touch them until I turn twenty-one."
"Then I see no problem at all," Becky said cheerfully.
"What do you mean?" Lianne stared at her puzzled, wondering how she could be so confident when the future looked positively bleak.
"You and Alex can just stay on here with us. There's plenty of room, so I see no problem. What do you say?"
Her offer was so generous that Lianne was taken aback. But as much as she wanted to stay in her home, she knew she couldn't. Adam would never stand for it. She was sure he wanted her gone just as soon as possible.
"No, Becky. We can't do that."
"Would you mind telling me why not?" Becky felt certain that it was her pride standing in her way, and she refused to allow Lianne and Alex to end up on the streets. "It's only a matter of a few months."
"I know, but . . ."
"But what?"
"Your brother."
"What about Adam?" Becky asked shrewdly, thinking of his unusual reaction to Lianne.
"I'm sure he doesn't want us to stay on." Lianne knew that for a fact, especially after what had happened between them tonight.
"Nonsense. Adam won't mind." She would not be deterred from her purpose. "He's got too many other things on his mind to concern himself with what we do. Besides, he and Alex are getting along famously."
"They are?" This news came as a complete surprise and nudged her closer to accepting Becky's offer. Lianne struggled to make her decision. What Becky was offering her amounted to her salvation. She and Alex desperately needed a haven for the few months until her trust matured.
Yet, while Lianne argued with herself to accept for Alex's sake, her instincts were telling her to run as far and as fast as she could to escape from Adam's devastating nearness. She hated him, but the fact remained that he had only had to touch her and all her vows of despising him had disappeared. Lianne groaned inwardly as she remembered how willing she had been, and she fought hard not to blush in Becky's presence.
Still, Adam's cold-hearted claim that what had happened between them was a mistake, and that it would never happen again, reassured her somewhat. That danger dismissed, Lianne realized she had to accept. They had nowhere else to go, no one else to turn to for help. Her pride was a fine thing, but it wouldn't feed Alex or keep a roof over his head.
"But I don't want to be a burden to you," she ventured hesitantly.
"A burden? Hardly," Becky scoffed. "I'm going to need your help."
"You will? For what?"
She explained how Adam wanted to have the party and how he had already directed her to refurbish the house. "What do you say? Will you stay on and help me restore Belle Arbor? I would really value your advice. Besides, since you know everyone around here, you can help me plan the party, too."
Having no alternative, Lianne finally assented with as much grace as she could muster. "Thank you, Becky, Alex and I would love to stay. But are you sure Adam won't object?"
"Don't worry about Adam. I'll take care of him."
Becky sounded so confident that she could influence her domineering brother, that Lianne couldn't suppress a smile.
"There, that's much better," Becky teased, pleased at seeing Lianne smile for the first time, and then impulsively she gave her a warm hug. "We're going to get along just fine, you'll see. Now, don't worry about a thing."
Sarah's knock interrupted them. As Sarah and her helper entered carrying the hot water for Lianne's bath, Becky started from the room to give Lianne her privacy.
"Becky?"
"Yes?" She glanced back just as she would have disappeared through the door and saw Lianne staring at her a bit wistfully.
"Thank you."
It was a heartfelt thanks, and Becky felt tears come to her eyes. "You're welcome."
As she returned to her own room her heart ached for Lianne. She admired her tremendously for how well she was holding up under the strain of her circumstances, and she knew she would do everything in her power to help her all she could.
Lianne locked the door once the servants had gone and then made short order of stripping off her clothing. She couldn't wait to get into the tub of steaming water and scrub away all memory of Adam's possession.
It was then as she stepped into the bath that she noticed the smear of blood on her inner thighs. The relative calm that had been hers for such a short time shattered. Guilt and rage filled her. How could she have been so stupid? How could she have given away her most valuable gift to Adam, of all people? She knew him for what he was. He was an opportunist who took what he wanted when he wanted it. And that was just what he'd done tonight. She had been there, and she had been willing. Lianne groaned at the thought of her own eager actions. No wonder he'd claimed it had all been a mistake when the moment of passion had passed. He hadn't really wanted her. He had just used her. How could she have doubted all that she knew about him even for a moment?
Fiercely she began to wash. Lianne prided herself on being a woman who learned from her mistakes. Her encounter with Adam had been just that, and it would never happen again. When at last she felt clean, she rose from the heated water in dripping splendor and quickly began to towel herself dry. She stepped from the tub meaning to pull on her nightdress immediately, but curiosity drew her to her mirror. Lianne stood before her reflection studying herself to see if there was any visible proof of the changes this night had wrought on her body. She was relieved to find that she looked exactly the same outwardly. Only her eyes revealed the sadness that she kept hidden deep within her and would never share.
Satisfied that no one else would ever learn of her indiscretion, she donned her nightgown and slipped into the welcoming comfort of her bed. A deep, quieting sleep claimed her quickly.
Adam could not rest. In the wee hour
s of the morning, he sought out the peaceful solitude of his bedroom, but it was not peace and solitude he found there. Instead, as he lay still fully clothed upon the wide, four-poster bed, he was hounded by the memory of his time with Lianne. She had been so excitingly responsive. Even now, just the remembrance of her freely given love could stir him.
With chilling brutality, he told himself that Lianne was just another woman like the many he'd known before Elise. There had been nothing really special about her. He'd been lonely and she'd been all to available. That was all. Yet, as he tried to convince himself of that, he could still remember the silken length of her pressed fully against him, and the way her hot, hungry body had taken him deep within the womanly heart of her.
Adam grimaced into the darkness. No matter how much he logically tried to deny what had happened, his body knew. He had desired Lianne from the start, and he still wanted her. Callously, he attempted to tell himself that it had been necessary to hurt her the way he had, but his conscience still prodded him with the cruelty of his words and actions after having loved her.
Adam cursed out loud into the darkness of his room as he practically threw himself from the bed. Knowing he would find no peace there tonight, he strode to the window and remained there, staring out across Belle Arbor's fertile acres, until the sun's first light caressed the eastern horizon.
Chapter Eleven
It was late morning as Lianne sat with Becky at the dining room table deep in discussion over the work that needed to be done to the house. Intently, they went over the list of repairs that needed to be done and the supplies they would need from town to accomplish their tasks. It was a labor of love for Lianne, for it had pained her greatly during the past year to watch her home fall into disrepair because of her own lack of funds. She felt vindicated now that she knew it was all Uncle Antoine's fault, and she was eager to help Becky bring Belle Arbor back to its original magnificence.
"You'll go into New Orleans with me, won't you?" Becky invited.
