Captive Bride

by Johanna Lindsey

  At dinner that evening, Philip had been amused to find that Tommy Huntington was extremely agitated. The younger man knew that with Estelle gone Philip would have more time to devote to Christina. Philip wondered how he would react if the situation were reversed—if his fiancée’s former lover were living in the same house she was, and he were helpless to do anything.

  Well, he felt no pity for Huntington. Indeed, he hated the younger man. He couldn’t bear to think that Huntington would soon be Christina’s husband. He would have the right to hold her and make love to her. Philip shook the thoughts away. He would be damned if he’d let that happen! And if Tommy Huntington had already lain with Christina, he would kill him!

  Knowing that Christina slept in the next room with only a thin wall between them was driving him beyond endurance. Hearing her move about her room, listening to her sweet voice—he wouldn’t be able to stand it much longer. He must win her back before her wedding day, or kidnap her again. He would rather live with her hate than without her.

  Philip heard the maid finally leave Christina’s room. He opened his door and saw that the dimly lit corridor was empty. John and Kareen’s bedroom was at the opposite end of the house, and he hoped they were already asleep.

  He walked the few feet to Christina’s door and opened it quietly. She was taking her bath before the brightly lit fireplace, unaware of his presence. He stood for a long moment watching her as she raised a sponge and let the water dribble down her arm. Her back was to him, and all he could see was the soft white contour of her shoulders above the rim of the large tub. Her hair was pinned up into countless ringlets shining like liquid gold, and the fire-light danced around her.

  Christina’s towel and robe were lying on the foot-stool next to the tub. Philip edged his way over to them and picked them up. Christina gasped.

  “What are you doing here?” she cried, sinking lower into the tub. She glanced angrily at his amused expression, then down at the robe and towel he was holding. “Put those down, Philip. Now! And get out of here!”

  “What, these?” he asked teasingly, the firelight dancing in his gold-flecked eyes. “Anything you say, madam.” He tossed the articles onto her bed, far from her reach.

  He walked around the tub and over to the chair in the corner of the room. She stared stupidly at her robe and towel on the bed. Then she swung her head around fiercely and glared at him. He was sitting in the chair watching her, his legs spread out before him and his hands clasped across his middle.

  “Just what the hell do you think you’re doing, Philip Caxton? Damn it! Are you trying to get yourself thrown out of this house? Do you need an excuse to leave now that Estelle is gone? Is that it?”

  Philip chuckled without taking his deep-green eyes from her angry face.

  “I don’t wish to leave this house, Christina, and I wouldn’t need an excuse if I did. If you will kindly refrain from raising your voice, no one will be the wiser and I won’t be discovered.”

  Confusion overcame her. Philip was partially hidden in the shadows, but Christina could still see the smoldering look in his eyes. He wanted her, of that she was sure, and a tingling sensation coursed through her body. She wanted him with all her heart, but she knew their love would be only for tonight. Tomorrow he would be as cold and indifferent as before, and she wouldn’t be able to stand it.

  “Get out of my room, Philip. You have no right to be here.”

  “You look exceptionally beautiful tonight, Tina,” Philip murmured. “You could tempt a man to do anything you wanted—except leave you.”

  He laughed heartily.

  She turned around in the tub. She couldn’t bear to look at him, his jet-black hair tousled and his crisp white shirt open to the waist baring his bronzed chest with its curls of black hair. He was the temptation! She was hard pressed not to go to him, soaking wet, and make love to him! It was what she wanted, it was what he wanted, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to love him and then face his hatred again in the morning.

  Twenty minutes passed. Philip said nothing, nor did Christina. Her back was to him, but she knew he still watched her.

  “Philip, please—this water is getting cold,” she pleaded.

  “I suggest that you get out of it,” he replied softly.

  “Then leave so I can!” Christina snapped.

  “You amaze me, Tina. I’ve watched you bathe a hundred times and emerge naked. You weren’t shy then, so why do you pretend to be now? We even made love once lying on the hard earth beside the bathing pond. It was you who came to me that day and—”

  “Stop it!” she cried, slamming her fist down into the water. “There’s no point in talking about the past, Philip. It’s over and done with. Now leave this minute before I catch cold.”

  “Was your body marred in giving birth to my son?” Philip asked. “Is that why you refuse to stand before me?”

  “Of course not! My figure has regained its former shape!”

  “Then stand up and prove it, Tina,” he murmured huskily.

  Christina almost took the bait and started to stand up, but then she sank back down in the water even lower than before, cursing Philip under her breath. The soap bubbles had all dissolved, leaving her body open to view. Her only hope was that he wouldn’t come near her, but leave! If he so much as touched her, she knew she would give in.

  Just then they heard footsteps in the corridor, and Christina froze when a light tap sounded at her door.

  “Christina, I must talk to you. Christina, are you awake?”

  She turned her head to look at Philip, but he was still sprawled at ease in his chair, clearly amused at her new predicament.

  “Tommy, for heaven’s sake, go home! I am taking my bath now—I’ll talk to you in the morning!” she said loudly.

  “I’ll wait until you are through,” Tommy called out.

  “No, you won’t, Tommy Huntington!” She was more afraid than angry now. “It’s late at night. I will see you in the morning—not now!”

  “Christina, this can’t wait, damn it! I will not stand that man in the house with you any longer. He has to go!”

  Philip’s deep laughter rang through the room. The door swung open forcefully, slamming against the wall, and Tommy stalked into the room. Philip was still in the shadows, and Tommy had to glance about the room twice before he saw him.

  Tommy, outraged, clenched his fists tightly at his sides as he looked at her, then at Philip, then back at her again. Before she could think of anything to say, Tommy let out a sickening cry and started toward Philip.

  She stood up, splashing water onto the thick blue carpet.

  “Stop it, Tommy!” she screamed.

  Tommy halted in his tracks. His mouth fell open at the sight of her, and he completely forgot that Philip was in the room. But Philip, who had half risen to brace himself against Tommy’s attack, scowled darkly at Christina.

  “Sit down, woman,” Philip growled angrily.

  She did so immediately, splashing water over the sides of the tub again, and a hot blush spread across her face.

  “What the hell are you doing in here, Caxton?” Tommy demanded.

  “There is nothing for you to be upset about, Tommy,” Christina said soothingly. “Philip came in here just before you did—to talk to me about his son. He didn’t know that I was taking my bath when he walked in.”

  “Then why was he sitting over there watching you bathe? How could you let him in here, Christina, or has this been going on all along?”

  “Don’t be absurd! I tell you it was perfectly innocent. Heavens! The man has seen me bathe a hundred times in the past. If you will remember, Philip came here for his son—not me. And he sat down only long enough to ask me a few questions—that’s all. I was in this tub the whole time, Tommy. He didn’t see me until you forced me to stand up with your foolishness.”

  “But he has no right to be in here at all, damn it!”

  “Lower your voice, Tommy, before you wake John!” Christina s
napped.

  “Wake John—that’s exactly what I intend to do. You won’t be here much longer, Caxton.” Tommy laughed bitterly, and rushed out of the room.

  “Now look what you’ve done!” Christina cried. “Why couldn’t you just leave me alone? Now John will be forced to ask you to leave this house. You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”

  “It was not my intention to be discovered, Christina,” Philip said calmly. “This is your house as much as John’s. I won’t have to leave unless you also wish it. If you want our son to grow up without knowing his real father, that’s up to you.”

  It was the first time Philip had called him “our son,” and Christina was surprised and yet pleased to hear him say it.

  “Quickly—hand me my robe before John gets here!” she said frantically. “Well, turn around, damn it!”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Christina!” But he turned around and moved far away from her to stand by the window.

  Stepping out of the tub, Christina managed to slip the robe over her wet body and tie it about her waist just as John rushed into the room with Tommy right behind him.

  “What the hell is going on, Christina?” John demanded.

  Philip turned to face them, and Tommy glowered at him.

  “I told you it was God’s truth. This is an outrage, John, and I demand that Caxton leave this house immediately!” Tommy stormed.

  “That’s enough, Tommy. I’m going to have to ask you to go home now. I will handle this matter,” John returned.

  “I will not!”

  “Tommy—now! I wish to talk to Christina alone. I’ll do whatever is necessary.”

  Tommy turned and stormed from the room.

  “I will also take my leave if you wish to talk privately,” said Philip.

  “Yes,” John replied curtly. “I’ll tell you of my decision in the morning.”

  “In the morning, then. Good night, Tina.” Philip closed the door behind him.

  Christina knew that he was asking her to fight for him so he could stay with his son. She relaxed a bit and sat down on the edge of her bed.

  “Crissy, what could have possessed you to let Philip come into your room this late at night?” asked John. “Have you and Philip finally settled matters between you? Is that it?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, John. There’s nothing to settle between us. What we had once is finished—it won’t come back. And I didn’t invite Philip into my room, he just walked in and wouldn’t leave.”

  “Did he—”

  Christina smiled weakly. “Philip sat in the corner the whole time he was here, but I knew he wanted me. And I know I can’t shock you more than I have in the past by telling you that I wanted him, too, more than anything,” she whispered, afraid that Philip might hear her from his room. “But I resisted him, for I knew he’d only want me tonight. Tomorrow he would hate me again.”

  “But Crissy, Philip has never stopped wanting you.”

  “He has, too!” she snapped.

  There was no point in arguing with her when she turned stubborn. John shook his head. “Well, I’m going to have to ask him to leave, Crissy. Had it been any man but Philip, he would be dead now.”

  “I don’t want him to leave, John.”

  “You can’t be serious! You just got through telling me that you won’t be able to resist him if he—Crissy, this will happen again if he stays.”

  “It won’t happen again, John, I know it won’t. And besides, I’ll lock my door from now on. I want Philip to stay until he’s ready to leave. I will not deny him the right to know his son.”

  “And what about Tommy? He won’t understand why Philip is still here.” John paused, shaking his head. “This is all my fault, Crissy. I should never have talked you into marrying Tommy.”

  “That doesn’t matter now. I’ll talk to Tommy in the morning. I’ll make him understand this was just an innocent meeting.”

  “I doubt he’ll believe that. What do you intend to do when you marry Tommy? He’ll never allow Philip in his house.”

  “I don’t know. I’ll handle that when the time comes. And when you speak with Philip, tell him I said we spoke about Philip Junior. And although it was improper, you’ll forget about the matter as long as it doesn’t happen again.”

  “Is that what you told Tommy tonight? No wonder he was so angry. Did you think Tommy was naive enough to believe that? He’s not a fool.”

  “Well, I’ll just have to insist it’s true,” said Christina. “I don’t want any more confrontations between Philip and Tommy.”

  “Just you talk to Tommy before I run into him. I wouldn’t know how to explain why Philip is still staying here. I don’t really understand it myself.” John came over and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “I imagine Tommy will be over early, so you had best get some rest. Good night, little sister. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  She smiled weakly but didn’t answer him. After John left, Christina glanced about the empty room and felt a pang of regret. She wondered what would have happened if Tommy hadn’t burst in. She slipped into her nightdress, crawled into bed, and a burning desire came over her as it had so many nights before. She wanted Philip—his hands exploring her body, his lips taking her will away, the feel of his muscles rippling across his back when she caressed him. She turned over and cried softly into her pillow for what could never be.

  CHRISTINA AWOKE TO her son’s loud crying. She grabbed her robe and ran into the nursery. She glanced about the room to make sure Philip wasn’t there, then walked to the bassinet. Philip Junior stopped crying when he saw her, but still thrashed his arms and legs. She had been blessed with a son who slept through the night. But when morning came, he would not be kept waiting any longer, and he made sure she knew it.

  She changed him, then sat down in the rocker to satisfy his hunger. While he suckled, Christina thought again of what Philip had called him. Our son. It had such a natural ring to it. She had always thought of Philip Junior as her son, or as Philip’s son.

  She put Philip Junior back in his bassinet and moved it into the sunlight streaming through the window. She gave him a few toys to keep him happy until it was time for his bath, and went into her own room to prepare for her confrontation with Tommy.

  The small clock on the mantel showed ten after seven, but Christina had no doubt that Tommy would be downstairs any second. She chose a low cut, deep-violet satin dress with long, tight-fitting sleeves. Hardly a dress for morning wear, but she hoped it would distract Tommy from his anger.

  Christina decided on her ruby-studded pins to hold her curls in place, and her long, dangling ear-rings of small rubies. She didn’t wear the matching necklace for fear it would hide what she wanted Tommy to see. With a last turn before her full-length mirror, Christina was satisfied with her appearance.

  Christina went downstairs and was glad to find that Tommy hadn’t arrived yet. At least she would be able to have breakfast in peace. She went directly to the counter filled with covered serving dishes in the dining room, and filled a plate. From the half-emptied dishes she judged that John and Philip had already eaten, and had probably left the house.

  After Christina finished her meal, she got up to pour another cup of tea. When she turned around again, Tommy was standing in the doorway. He was handsomely dressed in a suede riding outfit and held a crop in his right hand. As she’d hoped, his brown eyes were drawn straight to the low neckline barely concealing her full, rounded breasts.

  She smiled warmly. “I didn’t hear you come in, Tommy, but never mind. Come and join me for a cup of tea.”

  “What?” He finally looked up to meet her eyes.

  “I said, come and have a cup of tea.”

  “Yes.” He came over to her, gazing hungrily at her breasts. “Christina, how can you wear such a dress in the morning? It’s—”

  “Don’t you like my dress, Tommy?” She smiled beguilingly. “I wore it just for you.”

  Tommy melted. He pulled
her into an embrace. His lips searched hers, yet she felt no deep trembling of excitement. She didn’t feel the fires that surfaced every time Philip kissed her.

  “It is a beautiful dress, Crissy.” He held her at arms’ length and studied her from head to foot. “I don’t mind your wearing it now Caxton is gone.”

  “Tommy.”

  “God, Crissy, you don’t know what I’ve been going through since that man came. It’s been hell! I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t do a damn thing. I could only think that he’d been your lover.”

  “Tommy.”

  “But everything is going to be just fine now. Tell me, did John kick him out last night, or did he leave this morning?”

  Christina sighed wearily. “Philip isn’t leaving, Tommy.”

  He looked as if he’d been slapped unexpectedly across the face, but she went on quickly.

  “John believed me when I told him that nothing happened last night. It was all perfectly innocent, Tommy—nothing did happen. Philip Caxton doesn’t want me anymore—You’ve seen how he acts with Estelle. There’s no reason for you to be upset.”

  “No reason!” Tommy stormed. “He was in your room, and you were—you were undressed! Do you call that nothing? I won’t have him here any longer, Christina. I won’t have it!”

  “Now, Tommy, stop it! Philip has a right to stay here. His son is here.”

  “I’ll talk to John about this! That man is not going to remain in this house with you!”

  “This is my house as much as it is John’s!” Christina yelled. “And I say Philip can stay here.”

  “Damn it!” He slammed the riding crop down on the table.

  “Tommy,” she said, “Philip is here only because of his son—not because of me. Can’t you understand that?”

  “Then why in God’s name don’t you give him his son?”

  “You can’t be serious,” Christina laughed.

  “If all Caxton wants is his son, give him to the man. I never wanted the brat, anyway,” Tommy said bitterly. “We’ll have sons of our own, Christina, just as soon as we’re married. My son!”