Bertrice Small - Captivated

Somewhere in there, Gerard waited.

She called to him softly; there was only a thick silence and the hoot of an owl in response.

This is too stupid. He's not here. He's playing a stupid game. He didn't come. I hope he didn't come. I pray he didn't come…

Something grabbed her and she shrieked; a hand clamped over her mouth and a hard male body pulled her under the cover and fecund smell of the leaves and vines.

"Shhh…"

Gerard…! Damn! Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she would die.

He spoke in a whisper, hissing in her ear, "Can I let you go?"

She nodded, and he relinquished his grip on her mouth.

"You came."

"Let go of me."

"I can't. I can't, God help me," he breathed, and she felt, in the weight of his arm around her midriff, the weight of his suppressed passion. And she didn't know how she was going to manage him.

"You have to," she hissed. "I belong to Court now. It's irrevocable. I can't change it. And listen to me, Gerard I don't want to."

He ignored her. She couldn't believe it. He just chose not to hear the words with which she committed herself to Court.

"My darling, you can change it. You can change anything. Remember what we said, what we promised. It's not too late"

"But it is. It's too late, Gerard."

He stiffened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what you think I mean."

His arm loosened. "No. No. You promised he would never lay a hand on you."

Time for the lies. "I didn't know how little choice a woman had."

"He forced you." Gerard moved away from her. "I'll kill him."

Now for the truth. "He didn't."

He wheeled on her, and she was glad she couldn't see his face. "I'll kill you. I won't let him have you."

"It's too late." She moved closer to him, in a combative stance.

He didn't want to hear her. He took a step back. "All right, all right."

"He took me," she said inexorably. "He took away my clothes; he forced me to be naked. And then he did things to my naked body that I liked. That I begged him to do…"

"No!" She could feel the force of his fury. He had lost her, lost control. Gerard did not like anything to be out of his control, especially her.

So much like Court. She'd never considered the similarities before.

"No. No. No." As if his denial would make it true. "You didn't. You… didn'tyou couldn't… Let's say… let's… just say there were circumstances over which you had no control. Let's say his baser nature got the better of him"

Push him to the edge… "Or mine," she whispered.

Explosive now; he radiated pure volcanic rage as he grasped her with a violence he could barely contain and shook her.

"Or yours…" he ground out. "You could have been mine …"

"I belong to him. He bought me, remember? He paid for anything he did to me…"

"Noooo… o-o-o-o-o…" he moaned, and she went on relentlessly, "And I let him, Gerard. After the first penetration, I begged him to. I spread my legs for him willingly. I wear his thrall collar. I let him restrain me so he can do whatever he wants to me."

"You bitch, you bitch, you bitch… You swore you'd save it for me…"

"I didn't," she said brutally. "It wasn't real, what we said, what we thought we had. But he's a real man. And I want what he has between his legs."

"Bitchbitchbitchbitch… I could have taken you at any time… I could have forced you… I could take you now…"

"Keep your promise, Gerard… kiss me good-bye and leave me, as you swore in your note."

"Ohhh, I'll kiss you, you bitch. I'll kill you before I let him fuck you again…"

He grabbed her and forced his mouth on hers, his body against hers.

He was wet, hard, furious, powerful.

He was not Court.

She went limp in his arms and prepared for the worst.

In the shadows just beyond the arbor, he stood and watched. He heard the voices, heated with passion, though he could not make out distinctly what they said.

It didn't matter. What mattered was what he knew: that all the sexual heat and pleasure in the world could not keep his wife from her former lover.

He didn't think she would want to leave him, even for Lenoir. She had it too good. He'd made a huge mistake there, giving in to her body, giving her all the sex she could handle.

Hell. She could probably do them both: Lenoir at midnight in the arbor, and him whenever he wanted during the day.

Those voices were so passionate. They were arguing about the circumstances. Lenoir probably still wanted her to go. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them both and she was probably trying to reason with him, to tell him she had enough juice for them both. All Lenoir had to do was agree to her terms.

By God… nobody knew better than he what a bitch in bed she was: hadn't he already fucked her nipples to a paralyzing orgasm, and here she was, not eight hours later, in heat for another man?

Over his dead body.

Over Lenoir's.

If that bastard touched her… if he tried to penetrate her

He watched as Lenoir grabbed her and she came willingly into his arms and reached for his hot kisses… watched her body undulate against Lenoir's, seeking his heat, his hardness…

Goddamned trollop… he should have known the minute she'd agreed to the marriage. She could be bought. She knew what she had: virginity and the hottest naked body in Louisianaand he would bet Lenoir had known that all along.

Damn her to hell… the bitch… damn her to goddamned hell

He wheeled away from the ugly scene and lifted his arm.

It was time to end the farce.

She couldn't stand him, his touch, his kisses, the feel of his body pressing against her.

His rage made him strong, his passion drove him. He grasped the collar of her dress and ripped it away from her neck and down to her breasts. "You bitch, you bitch"

He reached for her throat. "Jesus shit… what's this?"

"I have to wear it, every day, everywhere," she whispered. "He made me, but now… now I revel in it. He owns me…"

He howledit was the only word for it, and he wrenched the material of her dress all the way down to the hem…

And a shot rang out.

He froze. "I could kill you…"

"Don't move …"

A new voiceher father's voice.

"Pull up your dress, you little tart."

Drue hurriedly gathered the folds of material to her breast as her father appeared at the opposite end of the arbor.

"How cozy," he said. "You and Lenoir forever, eh, Drue."

"No," she protested. "No."

"Looks like it to me. Court's home, by the way. Got done with business real early."

Drue's heart dropped to her stomach. "What are you doing here?"

"I want to get rid of a pestilence that could ruin my garden."

"Go to hell," Gerard growled.

"I think you're there already," Victor said. "You got your money. Get the hell out of town. Drue…"

That registered. "What do you mean, he got his money?" she asked, turning toward Victor.

"Let me have the pleasure of telling her, Victor. Seeing as how we're airing all our dirty secrets tonight," Gerard said nastily. "Or do you still not want her to know?"

Oh, God… no… what? She waited. But her father didn't seem discommoded. Whatever Gerard was talking about, it couldn't hurt Victor anymore.

Or her.

"Tell her," Victor said.

"I was the one to whom your father owed all that money," Gerard said maliciously. "Me. Not Summerville."

"WHAT!!!????" Her whole world tilted. Everything went crazy, spun upside down.

" Not Court," Victor amplified. "This piece of dung, who planned the whole scheme: get me in enough debt and I would turn you and Oak Bluffs over to him."