Creole Fires (19 page)

Nicki thought how beautiful he looked, but didn’t
say so. Alex wouldn’t have understood her choice of words. How could a man as powerfully built as he, a man who could send his enemies fleeing with one hard scowl, understand that he could be beautiful as well as masculine?

“Dieu du ciel
, he said softly. “God in heaven, I want you again already.” He pulled her down on the blankets. “If you’re not feeling up to it ….” He looked at her with concern.

“I want you too.”

He kissed her, and she could almost taste his passion. In minutes, she was hot all over, tingling with desire, and Alex was deeply inside her. It seemed just where he belonged.

They made love two more times that night, the most incredible night of Nicki’s life.

She awoke to find the room bathed in sunlight and Alex heating water for a bath.

“I think I shall take Danielle’s place permanently,” he said with a smile as she stepped into the steaming copper tub.

“I think I should like that.” She bathed and washed her hair, dried it in front of the fire, then braided it and let it trail down her back. Alex bathed but had no razor with which to shave. She thought his night’s growth of beard only made him look more handsome.

He helped her do up the buttons at the back of her riding dress, then gave her a thorough kiss that stirred another round of heat between them. When Alex stepped back, she noticed the hard arousal that pressed against the front of his riding breeches. Blushing, she glanced away.

Alex chuckled softly. “I can’t seem to get enough of
you. If I weren’t afraid
Grand-mère
would have half the workers combing the fields for us, I’d stay right here and make love to you for the next two weeks.”

The mention of Rachael’s name brought the first rush of sanity Nicole had known in the last two days. “What will you tell her?”

“The truth.” At her stricken look, Alex added, “most of it, anyway. We were caught in the storm and forced to spend the night at the lodge.”

“Since I have no reputation left to ruin, I suppose it doesn’t really matter.”

“If memory serves, you were the little minx who took off in the middle of a thunderstorm.”

She smiled at that. “When will you tell Clarissa?”

“She may not hear about it at all. If she does, I’ll tell her the same thing.”

“I mean about us.”

Alex smiled indulgently. “It’s true Clarissa has little interest in being my bedmate, but she’s only understanding to a point.”

Nicki felt a tremor of unease. “She’ll have to know sometime. Don’t you think it would be kinder if you told her right away?”

Alex didn’t answer. He seemed to be judging her words. The smile had gone from his face, his expression, no longer warm, seemed wary and uncertain. “And just what is it I’m supposed to tell her,
ma petite?”

Nicki swallowed hard. Why was he making this so difficult? “About your feelings for me,” she said softly.

Alex felt a building knot of dread. He prayed he was wrong. Moving closer, he took her hands between his and noticed how cold they had grown.
“There is no need to tell her about us. As long as we remain discreet, Clarissa will not be a problem.”

Nicki licked her lips. Her mouth felt so dry she could barely speak. “Tell me you don’t still plan to marry her.”

Alex didn’t answer.

“Say it, Alex. Tell me it isn’t so.”

Alex’s expression turned grim. He tightened his hold on her hands and pulled her closer. “I thought you understood. We talked about this before. A man marries for the benefits the union can bring. For the advantages to his family. Clarissa means nothing to me. She never has.”

Nicki moved her head from side to side, trying to deny his words. Her stomach had knotted and a hard lump closed her throat. “Oh, God,” she whispered, struggling to break free of his hold.

Alex looked at her pale face and fought to keep his voice calm. “Listen to me,
ma chère.
Clarissa is unimportant. She means nothing.”

Nicole jerked free. It was all she could do to stay on her feet. The room was spinning around her, airless, and suddenly too warm. “She means nothing? Nothing? The woman will be your wife. If she is nothing, what am I? Less than nothing. Not fit to wipe your shoes.”

She whirled toward the door, but Alex caught up to her in three long strides, his hard arm going around her waist. “Stop it. That isn’t the way it is and you know it.”

“Isn’t it?” Tears flooded her cheeks, but she didn’t wipe them away. “You’re tired of Lisette. You wanted someone new to fill your bed. How could I have been such a fool?”

“This has nothing to do with Lisette or anyone else. What happened between us was what we both wanted. It was beautiful. You said so yourself.”

“It was beautiful because I thought you cared for me.”

“I do care.”

She only shook her head. “Let me go.” She tried to pry his arm away.

“Not until you understand.”

“I’ll never understand, Alex. Never.” Shoving him so hard that he tripped and fell backward, she raced to the door. She was crying freely now, the tears so thick they blinded her. Outside, the ground was muddy, the path she ran down overgrown with grass and branches that had fallen in the storm. She didn’t know where she was going; she didn’t care. She only knew she had to get away from Alex, had to run from the awful grief she felt inside.

Branches tore at her skirts and cut her cheeks, and still she raced on. She could hear Alex behind her, begging her to stop. The swamp seemed to enclose her, the ghostly gray moss that swayed eerily from the overhanging branches seemed to beckon her on. There was water on both sides of her now, dark and dank and forbidding. The whispering wind seemed to call out her name.

She realized it wasn’t the wind but Alex, just moments before he tumbled her to the ground, rolling her into a pile of leaves and twigs as he landed on top of her.

Sobbing hysterically, she fought him. She pounded his chest, tried to scratch and claw. “Leave me alone!”

Alex held her immobile, pinning her wrists and her
thrashing body, but careful not to hurt her. When the last of her strength had ebbed, he gathered her into his arms.

“I thought I loved you,” she sobbed. “How could I have been so wrong?”

Alex closed his eyes. His chest felt leaden, and so tight he could barely breathe. He had known she would object to becoming his mistress. At least at first, just for a while. He hadn’t counted on this. Hadn’t dreamed she’d expect marriage. Cradling the back of her head with his hand, he rocked her gently back and forth.

“I thought you’d understand,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you.”

She only cried harder, her small body shaking with the force of her tears. It tortured him to see her like this, to know that he had been the cause.

“I thought you were a man of honor. Someone I could trust.”

Her words cut like a sword.
A man of honor.
She had once thought him that. Now she did not. “Please,
chérie. “
Why did it matter so much? She was a servant, for God’s sake. A thief. He clenched his jaw against the lie.

She was a lady. His lady.

“I can’t stand to see you this way.” He couldn’t bear the anguish in her voice, couldn’t stand to think of the harm he had done. “Try to understand.”

At the pain in his voice, she glanced up at him. His eyes looked bleak, his face a mask of despair. “It is you who does not understand.” Nicki closed her eyes against a fresh wave of pain, but her anger had fled, leaving her empty and alone. “It doesn’t matter,” she
whispered. “It was a silly, foolish dream to think you would want someone like me.”

Alex tightened his hold. “I want you, dammit,” he said hoarsely. “I still want you.”

“Just like the others,” she said softly. “They wanted me too.”

Alex gripped her arm. “Not like the others—you’ve got to believe that.”

“Why should I?”

“Because it’s the truth.” She laughed at that, a grating sound that chilled him to the bone.

“The truth?” she repeated. “For me the truth is different each day. With each man who owns me. Your truth is not much different from Fortier’s.”

Alex’s heart constricted. No words would come to defend him.

Nicki brushed the tears from her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I think we’d better be getting back,” she said with a calmness that only made him feel worse. “I wouldn’t want the others to worry.”

“Nicki, please. Let me try to explain.”

She came to her feet, brushing off the dirt and twigs and smoothing her hair. “There is no need, m’sieur. I understand only too well.” Turning her back to him, she walked off toward the lodge.

Alex didn’t try to stop her. He felt sick inside. Sick and empty.

One thought loomed above all others:
What in God’s name had he done?

Nicole waited in the lodge while Alex saddled the horses. Her face felt pale and bloodless, and her hands trembled. But she’d shed her last tear.

Whatever she and Alex had shared on their pallet in front of the fire was over and done. Locked away in her heart until she was strong enough to remember it without weeping. She was his bond servant, by law little more than a slave. Though he had seduced her with his care of her, with expensive clothes, and suppers at his lavish table, she’d been a fool to believe that Alexandre du Villier, le Duc de Brisonne, could ever have loved her.

She wondered what her father would have said if he had known. Surely he would have been disappointed in her. Yet when she pictured his face, he seemed incredulous. She realized he would have been fooled as easily as she.

“You are a St. Claire,” he would have said. “How could any man do better?”

Oh, Papa, such pride you have given me.
The burden was heavy. Too heavy. She wasn’t sure how much more she could bear.

They returned to the house in silence. Nicole was grateful for the time to school her emotions and put them away. She had done it before, hadn’t she? Learned to control herself, suffered whatever she was dealt while she kept her feelings locked inside.

“Thank heavens you are both all right.”
Grand-mère
met them at the door.

“It was quite a storm,” Nicki said with a smile that felted pasted on, yet she knew looked sincere. “I was lucky Alexandre came along when he did.”

Alex said nothing.

Nicki dismounted on her own before Alex could help her. She didn’t want him to touch her, wasn’t sure of the limit of her control.

“Well, you both look tired,” Rachael said, linking an arm through Nicole’s. “What you need is rest and something to eat.”

“I want to check the horses,” Alex said. Without a glance in Nicki’s direction, he picked up Napoleon’s reins and led both animals away.

Once inside, Nicki pleaded a headache. It wasn’t a lie. “I just need a little rest,” she said.

“I will have a bath sent up.” Rachael looked at her with concern. “And some food. I am sure you will feel better after you get some sleep.”

Nicki nodded. Upstairs Danielle helped her undress, then left her alone. It wasn’t until later that she noticed the rash around her throat, the small nips Alex had made with his teeth and his mouth—tiny marks that branded her.

She laughed at that, a grating sound that came out harsh and unfriendly. Alex had branded her skin just as he had her heart. He couldn’t have seared her more deeply if he’d used a white-hot iron.

After her bath, she slept. It was a deep sleep, but hardly peaceful. More the drugged sleep of exhaustion. She declined supper, and
Grand-mère
was understanding. After all, she’d weathered a terrible storm.

And so she had. The storm of her desire. The storm of her passions and feelings of love for a man to whom she meant nothing.

Nicki slept fitfully, but by morning she felt better. Until she opened the carved armoire door in search of something to wear. Up until now, she had accepted the clothes as a deed of kindness, a result of the friendship her father and Alex’s had shared. Etienne St. Claire would have done no less for Charles’s son, if he had been in need.

Now, looking at the clothes, it hit her like the rainstorm she had just weathered.

Bought and paid for—just like Lisette.

Her stomach knotted and the bile rose in her throat. Had he planned it this way from the start? Meant to lure her into his bed with elegant gowns and words of endearment? Well, she wasn’t tempted by fripperies and meaningless flattery. She wasn’t Lisette—and the sooner Alex found that out the better.

Careful to choose her simplest muslin day dress, Nicki headed downstairs in search of him. She wanted this matter settled. Wanted him to know she had no intention of sharing his bed again. But most of all, she wanted to know what he would do with her once he had discovered she wouldn’t bend to his will.

In the foyer, just as she feared, Frederick told her Alex had already gone. With an unhappy sigh, she turned toward the dining room—and ran straight into Clarissa.

“Good morning,” Nicki said, unconsciously squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin.

“Indeed,” Clarissa said. “Feeling better?”