Angelique Rising (17 page)

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Authors: Lorain O'Neil

BOOK: Angelique Rising
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He was vastly stronger than her he knew. He could "take" her as she called it, pretty easily.

             
"You really want this?" he asked in apprehensive indulgence.

             
"Yesss
.
"

             
Something in her brushed against him and she felt an unlock, a release, flood her. It was almost like she was a spirit again but a spirit
with a body.

             
Her power.
It needed Wyatt's power to join hers, to be complete, to be one.
That
was what she'd felt when she'd stared through the vent slots at him when he'd been singing his song,
that
was what she'd felt when he'd told her he'd taken her costume off and again when he'd demanded she submit to his authority before consummating their marriage, she needed to
join
with this man, bond herself to him
yield to his protection
. Her feelings made no sense to her, it was almost like they weren't really her own, she just knew she had to do this, knew it was life and death to her, he needed to
claim
her, pronounce her
his.
She needed his
power all over her, through her, in her, marking her and shining from her for all the world to see. It felt crazy.

             
"Oh baby," he breathed.

             
She had backed him up so he was standing against the foot of the bed facing her.

             
She stepped away several feet.

             
"Now," she said, closing the deal.

             
He hesitated for only a moment wondering if the night's champagne had done something to his better judgment. He would make this very quick (
please God, let those
laces not be knotted
) and easy for her. He lunged.

             
Angelique grabbed him by his forearm and threw him sideways in the air over her shoulder alighting him gently to the ground and releasing him. He dashed to his feet and stared at her. It wasn't possible. She had handled him like he was a weightless feather.

             
"No," she said. "Use your
power.
Match me."

             
This has to be
shotgunned through his brain but he didn't know what it meant, it didn't even feel like it was
his
thought.

             
Take her
.

             
This time he approached her carefully, warily, her eyes willing a vastness of power at him, her stance so feminine, so deceptive. He reached out to grab her but as soon as he
felt
it from her, he
matched
it, something from deep within him arose as he touched her flesh and he was rendered speechless.

             
"Ahhh.
..
"
she groaned throwing her head back, a look of ecstasy on her face. And then she looked into his eyes and was terrified. It felt like they were grinding her to dust, ferocious, relentless. She was looking right at his power, she knew. She had never seen anything like it, not in this world or the other, it was almost a godlike splendor. And it was all intent on one thing. Claiming her. Having her. Owning her. Possessing her. Protecting her.
Taking her as per request.

             
"Wyatt," she trembled staring into his eyes, they were chilling and her nerve broke. She knew
she
did not want this. Whatever had come over her was not her. And it had never occurred to her that the otherworldly energy she had sensed in him might be greater than hers, that she might
lose.
She didn't
want
to be owned, or possessed, or... the other. "Let's call this off, okay?"

             
But she had thrown down the gauntlet, he merely shook his head no, unblinking and inflexible and coming closer.

             
She yanked her arm from his grasp and turned fleeing the room down the hallway outside to the huge living room with all the speed she had. He was right behind her eating up the distance.

             
The battle was fierce. Together they fought, clutched, grappled, soared.

             
"Please," she squealed to him in an unreal voice knowing she'd landed herself in it regally this time but he paid her no mind.

             
They were back in the bedroom, wheezing, breathless, gasping. Angelique's bustier, panties and shoes were gone, she had only her stockings. Her braid was undone, her hair hanging loosely in a wild pony tail. She was gulping for air, standing precisely where she had been standing before when she had run. Wyatt was completely naked, a large scratch bleeding across his shoulder, his teeth gnashing, his chest heaving. He sprang at her and this time connected, solidly, her arm, and he hurled her in a high graceful arc over his head behind him directly onto the bed, she landed with a loud
whump
.

             
And he was on her, he was going to do this. But suddenly no, he was being lifted up, no
pushed
up, away, off of her. And he knew it was her doing it, her
talents,
oh yes. He was suspended slightly above her and he saw the smile creep across her face, the triumph.

             
I don't know what she is. Something profound maybe. I
will
find out. But whatever she is I've caught her, she's mine, I will keep her!

             
Wyatt summoned everything he had and reached down, his hands pressed together as if in prayer. With a new intensity his fingertips inexorably pierced the air above Angelique's naked body penetrating downward and when he touched her he began to open his hands and pull them apart with grim fearful efficiency and with it the force that was keeping him from her.

             
"Wyatt!" she shrieked as her disbelieving mind realized what was happening.

             
She was pinioned under him, confounded by him, his muscles on her hard as rock, her skin tingling at his touch, her heartbeat pummeling his.

             
"You are mine, Angelique," he roared exultantly, his need raging, "I will love you for eternity."

             
And with one stroke he drove into her.

             
The world disappeared. They were floating, somewhere else. It was dark, vast, formless. Gradually stars appeared, they were far away yet all seemed to be watching. And somehow that seemed
good
to both Angelique and Wyatt, like they were supposed to be there. Wyatt accelerated and Angelique started to keep pace with him in union, unabashed, this was
right
, this was her salvation, her only hope,
him
. The onslaught consumed them with gloriously excruciating pleasure and they detonated together, joined, clinging to each other in pure euphoric elation.

             
And then, peace.

             
Slowly the stars dissipated, the world re-formed, whatever was supposed to have happened had happened, Angelique had a chance now, a protector committed to her wholly, by shared love, power, acceptance and choice. Wyatt dropped off of her onto the bed, his breath shallow, the silence choking him.
Well fuck me, what the hell was THAT?
There was so much he wanted to ask but his strength was ebbing fast and he knew her answer would just be I-read-a-lot anyway.

             
"Try not to scratch it," he said drained into exhaustion.

             
"What?" she asked trying to slow her heartbeat.

             
"The GT9. When you drive it. Bring it back in one piece."

             
Out for the count, she rolled over on top of him and fell asleep.

*****

              "Wyatt, good to see you again," the Arab gentleman said in a voice of studied informality, "and on a Monday morning with such short notice."

             
"Surprising," Wyatt answered, a coolness to his voice. "I thought you'd be heading home before now, Rashid."

             
"Change of plan. May I sit?"

             
"Certainly," Wyatt gestured to a chair in front of his desk, not the comfortable one next to the sofa.

             
Rashid was in this thirties with bland lashless eyes and already bald. He was tall and thin but nevertheless had a pot belly owing to his taste in alcoholic beverages which owing to his wealth and position he had unlimited access to even in his Moslem world. He had a reputation for being sincere and forthright, both totally false. He was deviously shrewd and despicably callous; in the best of times aloof, uncaring and cold hearted --and this wasn't the best of times.

             
"I would like to revisit our port discussions my friend," Rashid said sitting down, glancing at Wyatt's office door making sure it was shut. It would not do for Wyatt's secretaries to overhear this conversation.

             
"My understanding was that the Chinese have made you a definitive
offer,"
Wyatt said enjoying making Rashid squirm.

             
Rashid blanched but recovered immediately and resumed his posture of pretended geniality.

             
"Your information is impressive, Wyatt, and yes, I admit I was tempted. But I would like to re-open negotiations with you."

             
Wyatt wondered what had changed and changed dramatically.

             
"Would you be interested?"

             
"The city needs to modernize its port, you know that. Your government [Wyatt almost said "family" which in Rashid's case was the same thing] has the investment capital to do that so of course I'm interested. But I will not offer you what the Chinese did, no."

             
They both knew what he was referring to. Rashid was in charge of finding appropriate investment opportunities for his country/family/government's oil wealth, and Wyatt's proposal for a billion dollars worth of it was to modernize the city's port. It had been a good plan which would have been advantageous for Wyatt, the city, and for Rashid's people. Rashid should have agreed to it but the Chinese had presented an inferior proposal for a port off their mainland that Rashid had secretly (he thought) agreed to --due to a hefty promised bribe.

             
"I am no longer interested in what the Chinese suggested. And my offer to you is a good one. You will get your modern port. A billion dollars worth of investment here, think of the jobs it will create. And when the new port is up and running it will turn hundreds of millions of dollars worth of profit per year."

             
"I know this, Rashid, I'm the one who wrote the proposal to you."

             
"Yes, yes, and we were --and are-- quite impressed with it. We would like to do business with you."

             
"In exchange for what, Rashid?" Wyatt was impatient for him to get to the point.

             
"Sometimes a man must make sacrifices for his business, for his community, no? For the greater good I mean. The deal I am offering you is quite lucrative, a sacrifice on your part is not unreasonable."

             
"Sacrifice? What are you talking about? I've already told you I will pay you no bribe." He was getting irritated at Rashid's self-justificatory bullshit.

             
Rashid took a deep breath and affixed the proper look of feigned humility to his face.

             
"In my country we have intermediaries to handle these transactions. I would send my representative to you, he would meet with yours, discuss many things over the course of a few days. Then, a beautiful lunch perhaps, where the subject is finally --delicately-- introduced. Both parties speaking to each other with respect and level heads. Alas, there is no such tradition in this country. I must speak for myself and speak bluntly. I do not wish for you to take offense in any way. I ask in advance for your pardon if I affront you, that is most certainly not my intent. I will give you the entire port deal. All of it. Everything you want and more. But I want something too. Not forever --just a loan. A visit. For a little while, that's all. And I will be generous and very, very kind. You need have no fear whatsoever. And hundreds, perhaps thousands of people over the coming years will have jobs and livelihoods because of you, your sacrifice. A noble sacrifice."

             
And Wyatt could see it, see what was coming. He could not believe it, it couldn't be about to happen.
It couldn't.

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