Claire Thornton - The Defiant Mistress

‘He caught me on the eve of our wedding,’ she said. ‘I was so sure I’d escaped him—but he was hiding in the shadows by the courtyard. He dragged me into the parlour and told me…’ she swallowed, remembering the sickening horror she’d experienced then ‘…told me he’d taken Aunt Kitty. She was…she was the guarantee that I’d marry him willingly. He wouldn’t hurt her if I did.’

‘And you just gave yourself up without protest. Without even trying to send for help?’ Gabriel said scornfully. ‘Do you think I’d have let him hurt Kitty if I’d known? Or you? How could you be so feckless?’

‘Feckless!’ To hear her sacrifice described in such contemptuous terms infuriated Athena. Even though she’d decided not to tell Gabriel that her primary motive had been to save his life, it still hurt that he dismissed her plight so lightly.

‘Get off me!’ She jerked her body in an effort to throw him off. The gondola rocked, but her efforts made no impression on Gabriel. She winced and caught her breath in sudden pain.

‘Why do you flinch? I’m not hurting you at all.’ He frowned at her.

‘A bone in my bodice has broken, you great lummocking bully!’ She glared at him. ‘It wasn’t intended for this kind of treatment.’

‘Hmm.’ He adjusted his position on top of her carefully. Athena didn’t realise until he released her hands and flipped her over beneath him that he’d been taking care he wasn’t kneeling on her petticoats. She found her cheek pressed down on the velvet upholstery.

‘What are you doing?’ Alarm skittered through her as she felt his hands at her back.

‘Relieving you of pain, madam harlot.’

‘What?’ An instant later she knew exactly what he was doing. ‘No!’ She braced her hands against the seat and tried to push upwards.

Gabriel held her still with his thighs around her hips and one firm hand between her shoulder blades. With his other he unfastened the bodice her maid had so diligently laced her into before dinner.

‘No. Please!’ she begged desperately, as the tight-fitting bodice fell away from her body. ‘Please God, don’t!’

‘D on’t what?’ he purred. ‘Touch you?’

His free hand slipped inside the open edges of her bodice. Only her thin chemise prevented him from touching her naked skin. He stroked his fingers delicately from her waist to the nape of her neck.

She gasped and trembled. His caress aroused so many conflicting emotions within her she scarcely knew what she felt.

‘Please,’ she whispered.

‘Please more?’ he taunted her. His hand roamed freely over her back. Trapped beneath him as she was, she could do nothing to prevent his caresses. The rich velvet beneath her cheek was smooth yet slightly abrasive when she moved her head against the grain of the fabric.

‘No.’ She closed her eyes. She’d longed so many nights for Gabriel’s touch. But she’d never expected he would be holding her captive when he did so.

‘No?’ He put one hand on the seat beside her and carefully repositioned himself over her. He pushed her long curls aside, his fingers lingering on the smooth skin of her shoulder, then she felt him lower his upper body until his weight lightly pressed against her. For a few tantalising seconds his breath heated her skin, then he kissed her shoulder.

He took his time, tasting her with his tongue, teasing her with his lips. She quivered, unexpected pleasure shimmering through her body. During their betrothal he had kissed her chastely upon her hand and occasionally on her cheek. Once or twice he had stolen a kiss from her lips—but never with such unfettered sensuality.

For a few moments she lost herself in the illicit delight he gave her. She forgot her undignified position face down in the gondola. She forgot Gabriel’s hostility towards her and her own sense of betrayal that he had seen but not protected her from Samuel. She was acutely aware of the contained strength in his hard body as he hovered just above her. The lace of his cravat trailed teasingly across her bare shoulder almost as tantalisingly as his lips.

His powerful thighs gripped her hips, holding her prisoner. She was completely at his mercy. And at the mercy of the desire he aroused in her. She whimpered softly.

She heard a low growl in his throat. His teeth closed on the curve between her shoulder and her neck. He didn’t bite hard enough to hurt her, but he growled again, the sound vibrating through her body. Through her arousal-dazed senses she became aware of the change in his mood from passion to anger.

‘Do you take pleasure where you can find it, like any bitch in heat?’ he said against her neck. ‘Little harlot.’

‘I am not a harlot!’ Her denial emerged as a sob of frustration and self-disgust. ‘Get off me!’

‘That’s not what you want.’ His words burned against her ear. ‘You want me to haul up your petticoats and—’

‘No!’ The velvet upholstery swallowed her gasping scream, but she began to struggle in earnest beneath him. Jabbing backwards and upwards with her elbows, she heard him grunt as one sharp elbow connected with his ribs.

He cursed and rolled off her. As soon as she was relieved of his weight she scrabbled around to face him, clutching her bodice against her breasts and drawing her knees up in an instinctive attempt to protect herself from further assaults.

The gondola rocked beneath their shifting weights, and she heard the canal water slap against the sides of the elegant craft. The lantern swung from side to side before once more coming to rest.

Gabriel stared at Athena in the shifting light. ‘That’s twice you’ve inflicted injury upon me,’ he said, his eyes narrowing. ‘Your pimp did not treat you well.’

‘I never had a pimp! I had a husband. And, no, he didn’t treat me well!’ Athena panted with overwrought emotion.

‘Where is he?’

‘He’s dead.’

‘How convenient.’

‘He died a few months ago.’

‘And now you’re looking for a new patron. Did he pay for your silk and lace, or did you bewitch some other poor fool into giving it to you?’ Gabriel’s long fingers flicked scornfully at the broad lace collar around Athena’s neckline.

‘No one gave it to me!’ Athena spat. ‘I made it! I’m not looking for a man. I survived eight years without Samuel. Why should I put myself at any man’s mercy ever again? You only cause pain and misery.’

‘I caused you pain and misery? I think not, Frances—’

‘That’s not my name,’ she interrupted, without considering her words.

‘Not your name?’ He stared at her, then threw himself back on to the seat beside her with a crack of scornful laughter. ‘You tell a series of fairy tales, expect me to believe them—then tell me I don’t even know your name? Well, what could I expect from a born harlot? You never intended to marry me, so what did it matter what name you used?’

‘It is my name,’ Athena corrected, flushing angrily.

‘First it isn’t, then it is—’

‘I was christened Athena Frances. Before God I am both Athena and Frances. I was not marrying you under a false name because you knew me by my second Christian name, not my first. I would have made my vows before God in good faith, knowing that He knows who I am.’

‘God knows, but not your future husband.’ Gabriel stared at her. The hard light in his eyes softened by a few degrees as he studied her face, dwelling on each feature in turn. ‘Athena,’ he repeated under his breath. ‘Perhaps. But you will always be Frances to me.’

A sob rose unexpectedly in Athena’s throat. ‘Frances died when Samuel found me,’ she said.

‘Who the hell is Samuel? Why was he looking for you?’ Renewed suspicion appeared in Gabriel’s eyes.