“Do you want me, my wife?” he rasped into her ear. “Do you wish to belong only to me?”
She moaned, and he positioned her head so she would look into his face. “Tell me. Tell me, Lianne. Beg for me to take you.” She felt him begin to enter her and then withdraw. Her body had a mind of its own and lifted to seek his manhood, arching of its own accord.
“Please,” she gasped at him.
“Please what?” he taunted and she didn't notice his gaze sliding to the open porch doorway. “What do you wish,
querida
?”
Her mind had begun to clear but her traitorous body still writhed and begged for him. She barely knew the words she had chosen to tell him she wanted him, but Raoul laughed and whispered,
“Puta,”
in her ear. Then he entered her and she gasped as the heat of their joining fired the flame higher within her. Her body pushed hard against him as she urged him to end her torture.
“Tell me first that you love me,
querida
. Tell me.”
“Raoul⦔ she moaned, knowing he held himself in check.
“Say it,” he said and nibbled at her breasts.
“I ⦠love ⦠you.” Her breathing was ragged.
This was the answer Raoul wanted. With a mighty shove, he impaled her and her body convulsed with exquisite pleasure as he found deep satisfaction within her.
Lianne lay there with Raoul's head suckling at her breasts, feeling a strange contentment. She knew what had happened was wrong, but she couldn't summon the strength to leave him. In all their times together this was the first time she had begged him to make love to her, and the only time she had allowed herself to enjoy his touch. She wanted to push him from her, but instead of falling asleep, she began to feel her body tingling again, craving this man's hands upon her.
Daniel waited for her, and she knew this, but when Raoul began to stroke the satin softness of her thighs and to part them for his entry again, she didn't resist.
She was so engrossed in lovemaking she didn't see Daniel standing outside on the porch or hear his muttered curse of “Whore!” before he ran down the steps into the throng of dancing people.
Daniel's insides felt twisted. He wound his way through the people in the courtyard, not seeing them. Without realizing it he made his way back to his room where he found Isabelle waiting in his bed.
“Don't you ever give up?” he growled and threw her a look of distaste.
“Mi amor,
I never get enough of you. You excite me, Daniel, as no man has ever done before, and I've had many men.” Her long polished nails held the sheet below her waist, and her unbound hair covered the round fullness of her beautiful breasts.
A willing woman, a wanton woman. Didn't this woman know that his dreams had been shattered? Couldn't she realize that when he came upstairs and found Lianne gone that he thought Raoul had ensnared her, taken her from him again? What a surprise awaited him when he asked the maid, Josephine, if she'd seen Lianne. “She is upstairs in Señor de Lovis' room,” the woman had told him with a hint of a smile. At first he thought he'd have to fight for her, to kill Raoul.
He'd never forget climbing the back porch stairs and hearing the mewls of pleasure coming from the open doorway. He wondered if he had the right room, when looking in he saw Lianne, her legs wrapped around Raoul, whispering filthy words to him, begging to be taken. His first inclination had been to rush in and pull her away from Raoul. But Raoul was still her husband, and from what he saw, Lianne craved him as a lover.
He wondered how he could have been so blind, so stupid all this time? Lianne wanted de Lovis.
Daniel went to the round table near the window and poured himself a huge glass of whiskey. He drank it down like water and filled the glass again.
“You shall become quite drunk, Daniel, and will be of little use to me. I detest a drunken lover. They don't know how to please a woman.”
“I'm far from drunk, Isabelle, but I guarantee that you shall be very pleased this night.”
To her delight he shrugged out of his clothes and joined her satin body on the bed. He loved Isabelle wildly and passionately until the candles on the dressing table extinguished themselves. Later she slept in his arms, but he didn't sleep. All he thought of was Lianne and the revenge he'd take on her and de Lovis.
A very sweet revenge.
The bright afternoon sunshine hurt Lianne's eyes. Golden rays streamed through the opened doorway and inundated the bed in its brightness. Slowly she opened her eyes and shielded her face from the glare with her hands.
“Good afternoon,
querida
. I trust you slept well.”
She started at Raoul's voice and turned her head in the direction of the sound. He was putting on his dark jacket, a pleased expression on his face as he surveyed her half-naked body.
Heat suffused her and she realized that the covers were twisted around her. A long thigh was uncovered as were her breasts. She stared at him, wondering what she was doing here.
She sat up, but her head felt slightly heavy, as if she had drunk too much. But she didn't remember drinking anything. Or had she? Her gaze slid to the cup on the table beside the bed. Wine. She had drunk wine. Why? Then she remembered coming here and finding a distraught Carmen, then being handed a cup of wine by Josephine.
Her green eyes flew back to Raoul as everything grew clear. “You planned this!” she cried.
“
SÃ
, Lianne. I planned all of it. As I recall you didn't protest too much last night.” He smiled wickedly, so sure of himself. “You were fantastic,
querida
. We belong together. I think you know that now.”
He stood up and finished buttoning his jacket. “Shall I have Josephine send you up a tray?”
“No! I wouldn't eat anything that terrible woman gives me.”
“Don't judge her harshly. She only carried out my orders.”
“I hate you, Raoul!”
He looked amused. “No, you don't. Look at your reflection in the mirror, my dove. Notice the way your eyes gleam this morning, the flush of love upon your skin. Lianne, we made love all night. Don't tell me you don't remember.”
She did remember. That was the problem. He had drugged her to gain a response from her, and responded she had. Just thinking of the wanton way she had taken him into her repulsed and excited her. Dear God, she had enjoyed it! How truly wicked was she?
Looking down at the rumpled sheets, her head shot up. “Daniel. I must speak to Daniel!”
Raoul blocked her way when she rose from the bed.
“You won't stop me!” she cried and angrily pulled the sheet around her.
“I have no intention of stopping you, but I think you should be warned. Daniel is packing his bags and returning to Mexico City with Isabelle Hidalgo. I understand that she is now his mistress.”
The blood drained from her face. “You're lying.”
Raoul shrugged. “Go and see for yourself.”
Before his calm gaze, she dressed in the discarded peasant dress from the previous day and ran barefoot to Daniel's room. He wasn't there. She flew down the staircase, nearly knocking down a maid, and out onto the street.
In front of the house was Isabelle's gaudy carriage, and helping Isabelle into it was Daniel.
She called to him, and when he looked at her, she stopped short. His ocean-gray eyes swept coldly over her. She vaguely wondered why he was doing this to her. He couldn't possibly know she had willingly and wantonly slept with Raoul.
Approaching him, she had no idea she looked as if she had been thoroughly loved the night before. Her hair streamed across her shoulders in a mass of tangled curls. Her coral lips were swollen, and the dress was rumpled, the blood stains from the cockfight still visible. Plus her feet were bare, and because the dress was so thin, he saw she wore no underclothes beneath it.
“Daniel, why are you leaving me like this? Let me explain what happened.”
He took her arm and roughly led her near the wrought iron gate of the garden, away from the prying eyes of the passersby. “Don't bother, Lianne. I have eyes and know what happened. Believe me, I saw you and de Lois mating like a stallion and its mare, which is very well and good since you are his wife.”
She winced at the nasty way he emphasized wife. She felt like a whore. “Can't you see that Raoul planned all of this, Daniel? He wanted you to see me with him, he drug⦔
He cut her short. “I knew he was devious and would stop at nothing, but I thought you hated him, detested him.” He dropped her arm. “Well, love, if that's how you hate, I've never been the recipient of such hatred, and I feel slighted. Well, one day, my beautiful wanton, you're going to hate me, hate me more than any man you've ever known. Even more than de Lovis. Then maybe I'll let you crawl in my bed and pleasure me in the same way. Until then,
adios
, Lianne.”
Daniel turned and walked the short distance to the carriage where Isabelle waited. He climbed into the carriage beside the woman and swept her into his arms, drugging her senses in a long kiss. When the carriage pulled away, Lianne leaned against the gate post, unable to move but feeling the stinging sensation of tears in her eyes.
Why hadn't he listened to her, let her finish explaining what had happened? However, she wondered if the truth would have mattered. She had responded to Raoul and enjoyed his lovemaking. She didn't think Daniel would care whether she had been drugged or not. He was determined to hate her.
She sensed Raoul's presence.
“Come inside and change your clothes,” he told her in a surprisingly gentle voice.
She allowed him to lead her to their room where Josephine waited with a warm bath. While she bathed, Raoul watched her, but she felt unable to say anything. Her heart had broken. She felt desolate and alone. When she finished bathing, she put on a robe and sat by the dressing table while Josephine attempted to brush her hair.
“Leave me alone!” she managed to say in as harsh a voice as she could muster.
“But señora⦔
“Go!” Lianne cried.
Raoul waved his hand and Josephine departed.
He came and stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. “You truly belong to me now,” he said and watched her reflection in the mirror. “You're the woman, the wife of Raoul de Lovis.”
“A great honor, I'm sure,” she said bitterly.
“Don't act the shrew. Lianne. You must admit you loved my hands upon you last night. You were insatiable.”
“Only because you drugged me, Raoul.”
“Be that as it may, you wanted me.”
Her eyes met his glittering black one. She had grown so used to the black patch over his other eye that she had ceased to notice it. She turned from the mirror and faced him directly.
“I admit I wanted you. I admit I enjoyed making love to you. You got what you've always wanted from me, Raoul. A passionate response in your arms.” She stood up and traced her fingers along his jawline, her breath fanning his chin. “Will you take me now, Raoul? I know you want me.” Slowly she undid the tie at her waist and shimmied out of the robe until she waited naked before him. She placed his hands on her hips, writhing as they trailed lower upon her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts onto the silken front of his jacket.
“Lianne.” His voice was a groan of pleasure and he picked her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. His body fell atop hers, covering her face with kisses.
“I love you,
querida
. I am a most happy man. This is the way I've always wanted you, writhing and moaning with ecstasy in my arms.”
“Oh, Raoul, is that all? I thought you wanted my love. If I had known you wanted only a response I could have granted your wish long ago.”
His hands stopped their wanton travels across her flesh, and he lifted an eyebrow as he looked into her face. Her catlike eyes glinted in the dark, and for the first time in a long time, Raoul shivered.
“What game are you playing?” he asked.
“No games, Raoul. Aren't you pleased with me?”
“No!”
“Why not? Aren't I responsive and willing in your arms? Aren't I the wife you wish me to be?”
“Stop it, Lianne!” He held her face in his hands. “I want you to say you love me. Last night you did.”
She laughed a long, fluty laugh like the ring of fine crystal. Then she stopped and her tone was bitter. “I shall never love you, Raoul. You may make love to me, and I will enjoy it from now on. Why not? Last night you broke down my inhibitions. However, no matter how much you want me and make me purr like a little kitten for you, I'll never love you. As long as I live, I shall always love Daniel. And you can't change that.”
“You are a bitch!” he rasped.
“Perhaps, but you've made me one. You told me I belong to you, so, Raoul, I'm ready for you.”