Exposed: Misbehaving with the Magnate (9 page)

‘How’s the food?’ she asked.

‘Excellent. Yours?’

‘Mmm. Exquisite.’

‘How am I doing so far?’ he murmured. ‘Civilised
enough for you?’ His words held a dark and dangerous edge that made her shudder in anticipation.

‘Yes.’

‘Ready to bed me now?’

‘Yes.’ Her body felt boneless, languorous, as the panther rattled the cage.

‘Right now and to hell with coffee and dessert?’

‘Yes.’

Paolo materialised beside them as if drawn there by the force of Luc’s will alone.

‘Are you sure?’ murmured Luc. Gabrielle nodded. Luc’s eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘Paolo, we’d like the bill.’

Paolo looked at their half eaten meals and the still half-full bottle of precious champagne. ‘But is there something wrong?’ Luc smiled tightly and a look passed between them. ‘Ah,’ said the old man. ‘
Bon appétit
. I will put a regular cork in the Saracenne so you may take it with you.’

‘
Non
, Paolo. Take it to the kitchen and do with it what you will. The meal was outstanding, as always. My compliments to you and your family.’

Gabrielle was never sure how she managed to stand and to walk to the door of the restaurant as if everything were not bathed in the colour of desire. She got her coat on with Luc’s help and watched with eyes that followed every movement of his long, strong fingers as he did up her buttons and cinched her belt tight.

He reached for her the moment they were seated in the relative privacy of the car, his fingers in her hair, expertly seeking and removing pins as his lips slanted over hers and demanded she open for him. He groaned
when she did, the raw and needy groan of a man pushed to his limits as his tongue began a fiercely sensual invasion, stripping her of everything but the need to respond. Her hands went to his hair, she wanted it free, and it took her less than two seconds to achieve that particular goal. Her hair came down more slowly—the hairdresser had been thorough—but when it finally tumbled down around her shoulders and over the lapels of her coat Luc groaned again as the intensity of his kiss ratcheted up another notch. Gabrielle wrenched her lips from his and pushed him away with an unsteady hand.

‘Drive,’ she ordered raggedly.

‘Where?’

‘Anywhere.’ Although…‘Maybe not Caverness.’ Her courage did not extend to flaunting her intimacy with Luc in Josien’s face—not because of what her mother might think of her, but because Gabrielle feared that somehow, heaven only knew how, Josien would turn her feelings for Luc into something ugly. ‘My room.’

‘Caverness is my home, Gabrielle.’ His voice was as ragged and strained as hers. ‘Sooner or later I will want you there.’ But he drove towards the old mill and said no more as they exited the Audi and strode towards the front door. ‘I aim to stay the night.’

‘I aim to let you.’

Conversation complete.

They met no one on the way to Gabrielle’s room. She preceded Luc inside, he locked the door behind him, and she made one last desperate attempt at being civil as she turned to face him and lifted her chin. ‘Drink?’

‘No.’ He shrugged off his coat and tossed it over a chair before coming to stand in front of her, not touching her, not yet. But his eyes promised her every wild thing she wanted of him this night. Everything and more. ‘I want you.’

Her hands went to the buckle on her coat and then to the buttons. Moments later a cloud of black leather landed at her feet. She smiled and arched an eyebrow in wordless challenge. ‘Which bits?’

‘All of them.’ A smile crossed his lips, a smile no sensible woman would turn her back on, but she did just that and swept her hair to one side and glanced at him over her shoulder.

‘The clasp on my necklace is a little stiff.’ Her gaze slid down that lithe and intimidating body and her smile grew the tiniest bit smug. He was ready for her. ‘Would you mind? I’d hate to break it.’

His fingers brushed the back of her neck and the necklace came loose in her hand. Luc slid his hands to her shoulders then, his palms warm, cupping the curve of them before he slowly trailed his fingers down her arms. ‘You could start with the back of my neck,’ she offered. His lips on the bare and sensitive curve of her shoulder.

‘I could,’ he murmured.

But he didn’t.

He started with the zip that ran down the back of her dress, lowering it slowly, smoothly, before walking around her, studying her the way an art aficionado might study a Da Vinci. ‘What’s underneath?’ he said, his voice a husky purr.

‘Oh, nothing much.’ She wasn’t going to step out of
her dress for him. If he wanted her undressed he could do it himself. ‘I’ve often wondered what would have happened all those years ago,’ she murmured, ‘if we hadn’t been interrupted. You were sitting on an old wooden table, I believe. As for me…’ Her eyes caught Luc’s and held. ‘I was sitting on you.’

‘I’m warning you, Gabrielle. If you want a re-enactment, this is going to get out of control fast.’

‘Maybe.’ Maybe that was exactly what she wanted. ‘There’s a table here.’

‘There’s a
bed
here,’ he countered darkly.

Yes, there was. ‘Maybe if you sat on the edge of it…’

‘Maybe if you let me kiss you…’

That was what he’d said to her last time, too. She stepped forward and offered him her lips, the lightest touch.

‘More,’ he whispered, and she was catapulted back to the caves of Caverness and she was sixteen and trembling with equal parts terror and lust as she offered Luc more and spun them into madness.

They were on the bed before she knew it, Luc sitting on it with Gabrielle wrapped around him, her knees either side of him, while he devoured her mouth, one hand in her wild tumble of hair and the other on her derrière, urging her closer to his straining hardness. Last time he’d done that, her innocence had left her gasping in shock at his boldness. This time she gasped at the outrageous size of him, the thickness and heat that went on, and on.

Her dress was no barrier to hands as sure as Luc’s. His hands were on the rounded globes of her buttocks
in an instant, sliding over the silk of her panties as he surged against her. With a ragged moan Gabrielle put her hands to his face as she’d done once before and poured all that she was into a meeting of mouths.

‘Would we have managed to take our clothes off, do you think?’ she murmured against his lips.

‘No,’ he whispered as his fingers slid beneath the edge of her panties. ‘Maybe some of them. Maybe if I could have got them off you without having to let you go.’

‘How?’

The sibilant hiss of shredding silk gave her an answer she approved of wholeheartedly. She doubted that she would have been bold enough to reach for his belt at sixteen, but she reached for it now in her haste for skin against skin. His zipper went next and then his briefs. She glanced down, measuring him with her eyes, willing her body not to want so badly, willing herself to relax and to wait. ‘I’d have been a little nervous right about now. Back then.’ Hell, she was a little nervous
now
.

His eyes had darkened, there was fury there, carefully banked. ‘I’d have taken care of you.’ There was bite in his words. ‘I’d not have disappointed you.’ Long dark lashes shaded his eyes as he bent his head and set his lips to her collarbone, used his teeth on her there to nip and his tongue to caress. ‘Why didn’t you wait?’

Ah. There. There was the bite. But she wasn’t entirely to blame for bestowing her virginity elsewhere. ‘Why didn’t you ask me to?’ She craved his mouth on her breasts and had no hesitation about twining her hands in his hair and dragging his head there none too
gently. Her dress fell away, and she whimpered her satisfaction as she closed her eyes and let sensation ride her, rule her, as her tightly budded nipple made contact with the heat of his tongue and the hardness of teeth.

Lucien could be savage, when he wanted to be. He was savage now, closing his lips over her and suckling hard, darkly pleased by her wild keening cry and the convulsive arch of her body. This wasn’t about sex; sex was about bodies. This was possession, and he wanted her soul.

He drew her back on the bed to lay atop him and she went with him willingly, better for her because of his size, better for him because he had access to all of her. Another tremor ripped through her as he suckled her other breast, and with another whimper she settled herself against his length and rocked against him, her body already swollen and slick with need. Her dress had bunched around her waist, and she still wore her shoes but apart from that she was naked. He craved skin on skin, all of her up against every last bit of him. Her dress slid over her head easily; her shoes were harder to get her out of but he managed.

‘Shirt,’ he muttered, right before her lips claimed his. She undid all of two buttons before haste and frustration got the better of her. Fisting her hands in his shirt, she wrenched it apart. Buttons flew and Luc’s breath left his body with a whoosh as she began to trace the curve of muscle over rib, of nipple over muscle. ‘Now,’ he muttered, with the last of his control. ‘Gabrielle, I need to be inside you
now
.’ He’d waited so long already. Foreplay and patience were not an option.

‘Just so you know,’ she muttered as she took him in hand and guided him slowly into her centre. ‘I don’t want you civilised and gentle. I just want you.’

And just like that, she released the panther from his cage.

He filled her in an instant, rolling her onto her back, fighting for supremacy over her and control of himself as he eased out of her and slid back home. Over and over, while her body destroyed his with greedy hands and a reckless mouth that drove him insane. ‘No.’ He had to keep control, he had to. He could not lose himself to this.

‘More,’ she whispered as he eased up on one elbow and splayed his other hand across the softness of her belly and found her centre with his thumb. This time the rhythm he set up was twofold in its intensity and she responded as if he’d taken a whip to her. Straining, clinging, screaming.

He watched her eyes go blind as she crested the peak. He felt convulsions rack her body as she came for him, over and over; she came for him hard.

Then and only then did he allow himself his own release.

Gabrielle lay quietly in the aftermath of Luc’s possession, her body not yet recovered enough to do more than breathe, and her mind not functional enough to assess the situation.

‘What was that?’ she asked finally.

‘Overdue,’ he said darkly. ‘At least, that’s what I’m hoping the reason for that particular madness was.’ A shudder ripped through him and he twitched inside her, still filling her completely. ‘Long, long overdue.’

‘Okay.’ She pondered the secrets of the universe for a while. Deliberated on what the goddess of lust would have thought of that little display. ‘Felt a little intense,’ she said next. ‘Is that, ah, normal? For you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh.’

‘No,’ he admitted gruffly.

‘Me either. Good though,’ she added and lapsed back into contemplation. ‘If that sort of uncontrollable edge thing works for you.’

‘Yes.’ He rolled onto his back but he did not pull out of her or away from her. He took her with him. He still had his shirt half on, his trousers mostly on. She wasn’t wearing a stitch.

‘Does it?’ She hoped her voice wasn’t telegraphing the anxiousness she felt. ‘I mean…It could take some getting used to if you’re not used to it. If you’re a person who likes being in control of things…I mean.’

‘Gabrielle?’ His hand came up to cradle her skull and his lips brushed her forehead. ‘Shut up.’

Shutting up. Shutting right up. Excellent suggestion. ‘Luc?’

‘What?’ His voice sounded long suffering.

‘Can we do it again?’ The twitch of his body seemed to suggest he could.

‘Yes.’

‘Soon?’

‘Yes.’

‘Luc?’

‘What?’

She shifted to settle astride him, her hands on his bare chest and her thoughts a little grave. ‘I know I still
have to figure out how to remove the bulk of your clothes without giving up my position of dominance here, but do you think that this time you could be naked too?’

She got him naked. She got him sweaty. She got his hands fisted above his head as he poured his release into her and cried out her name.

But she could not, until that very last moment, make him surrender himself to her completely.

T
HE
stone-faced miller’s wife lasted all of ten minutes after Luc left the following morning before rapping on the door and informing Gabrielle that the room had been re-let and that she would need to find accommodation elsewhere. Today. Oh, and she had thirty minutes to pack.

This time, Gabrielle took a three-month lease on a fully furnished apartment situated on a leafy square in the expensive part of town.

If anyone tried to kick her out of this place for being lover to a single man of good standing, she’d damn well go out and buy a house. No one was going to belittle the rapture she’d found in Luc’s arms.

No one.

Simone, bless her, did not even try. She came round for coffee at Gabrielle’s new abode, her smile warm and her treatment of Gabrielle exactly the same. A little confrontation, a lot of teasing, and always the underlying warmth of a sister of the heart. She did not repeat her warning of yesterday. Now that the deed
with Luc had been done, Simone accepted it with the ease of one well used to accommodating life’s little inconsistencies.

‘Nice,’ said Simone after looking through the apartment. ‘But why the sudden change? I thought you had a few more days before your time at the old mill was up?’

‘I needed something with a little more room,’ said Gabrielle. ‘And I needed it now.’

‘She threw you out, didn’t she?’ Simone’s gaze was very direct.

‘Yes.’

‘Because Luc stayed over?’

‘Not in so many words, but yes. I think so.’

‘Does Luc know?’

‘No, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention it to him. I needed more space so I moved. End of story.’

‘It’s a good story, don’t get me wrong,’ said Simone. ‘Let’s just pray Luc never hears the other one.’

‘Amen,’ said Gabrielle.

‘So, who won the war?’ asked Simone next.

‘Not me and stop prying. We are not having this conversation.’

‘Just trying to keep up with the situation to hand,’ said Simone. And with an impish grin. ‘You don’t look like a casualty of war.’

‘I’m not.’ Not yet, at any rate. ‘And I really can’t talk to you about this, Simone. It’s too new. I don’t even understand what’s going on myself yet.’

‘So who will you talk to about it?’ asked Simone. ‘Will you tell Rafe?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Because it’s too new or because you know he won’t like it?’

Gabrielle smiled wryly. ‘Both.’

‘Will you tell Josien?’

‘No,’ she said, her smile fading fast. ‘That door is closed to me, Simone, and I’m done with standing on one side of it like a needy child waiting for it to open. There’s nothing for me there.’ Nothing but pain. ‘Nothing there for Rafael either.’

‘Gabrielle—’ Simone’s expression grew sombre. ‘
Maman
died so long ago I can hardly remember her, but I never envied you yours. I know she made childhood difficult for you. I wish things could have been different for you. For you and Rafe both.’

‘Me too.’

‘I know she used to hit you.’ Simone hesitated, not quite managing to meet Gabrielle’s gaze. ‘I saw her once. Not smacking you. Not scolding you for whatever it was she thought you’d done wrong. She was beating you. Hurting you.’ Simone shook her head as if to deny the memory of it. ‘I ran for my father but by the time we returned you were gone. My father said he’d talk to Josien but talking isn’t doing, so I went and found Rafael and told him what I’d seen. I’ll never forget the look on his face, Gaby. The helpless fury in his eyes. The pain and the fear. He was twelve and you were six and I knew at once that this wasn’t the first time she’d hurt you. We ran back to the chateau and Rafe told me to go inside, and that he would find you and take care of you, and I went inside because I was scared. Gabrielle, I’m so sorry I never did anything. Not then. Not later, when Rafe would treat you with
such care and tenderness that I knew in my heart she had taken to you again.’ Simone looked tortured. ‘Did he find you?’

‘Always,’ said Gabrielle with a tiny smile. ‘Always.’ She covered Simone’s hands with her own and willed Simone to look at her. ‘You were a child too, Simone. You did what you could. Your father did what he could—he made Josien seek counselling for her anger and her rage and it helped. It helped a lot. Besides, you forget that I was no angel. Sometimes I deserved to be punished.’

‘Not like that,’ said Simone fiercely. ‘Never like that, and not later either when she came at you with words rather than whips. Don’t let her hurt you again, Gaby. Don’t you listen to her when she tells you that what you’ve found with my brother is wrong. Don’t let anyone tell you that!’

‘I won’t.’ But the weight of Simone’s words settled heavily on Gabrielle’s mind. Reminding her, as if she needed reminding, that not everyone would see her relationship with Luc in a positive light. Josien would disapprove. Rafe, with his uncomfortable history with Simone, would wish she’d chosen differently. And then there was the yawning social and economic gulf between a man of Luc’s standing and a woman like herself. Gabrielle tried to feel worthy of Luc but she was desperately vulnerable to the judgement of others. She was a product of her childhood, of Josien’s beliefs about class and about status, and those lessons learned early were not so easily disregarded. There was truth in them, and sense in them, no matter how much she wished otherwise. ‘I’m feeling morose.’

‘Likewise,’ said Simone. ‘You have no idea how I worried for you as a child.’

Gabrielle turned away, carefully, casually. ‘Did Luc know?’

‘That Josien used to beat you? No,’ said Simone faintly. ‘He suspected, but no one ever confirmed his suspicions. Not Rafe. Not you. And certainly not me. Rafe was so very level-headed about it, you see? Whereas Luc…’ Simone shook her head again, more memories denied. ‘Luc would not have kept a level head at all. So we protected you, as best we could. We shielded Luc from the ugliness you endured at your mother’s hands, and I prayed to God every night that I was doing the right thing.’

‘From where I’m standing, you did exactly the right thing. Look at me, Simone, and tell me what you see. Am I damaged? Am I fearful or abusive? Do I look upon love and the giving of it as a weakness or a curse? No. I think I turned out just fine. I think all of the children of Caverness turned out fine. The occasional minor flaw here and there, maybe…’ She thought of Rafe’s compulsion to succeed. Of the fierce need the children of Caverness had to protect each other, even now, so many years later. ‘Probably. But who doesn’t have those? I’m fine. And you…’ Gabrielle smiled and reached for Simone’s hand, seeking strength in touch and finding it. ‘Such a valiant and tender heart. It’s no surprise that my brother cannot forget you. The surprise is that he’s stayed away from you this long.’

‘Well, when you put it that way,’ said Simone with a choked laugh, ‘you’re absolutely right. The man’s a
fool and I’m a goddess. I could grow quite fond of this perspective.’

‘Keep it,’ said Gabrielle with a squeeze of her hand. ‘Embrace it.’

‘Maybe I will,’ said Simone. ‘Mind you, I’m still going to need chocolate in order to get over all this soul-baring and childhood trauma.’

‘Chocolate would help,’ agreed Gabrielle thoughtfully. ‘Belgian?’

‘Oh, Gaby.’ Simone’s laughter came more freely this time. ‘Is there any other kind?’

Two days and two Luc-filled nights later, and midway through their rapidly developing morning ritual of showering and having breakfast together before getting on with their respective workloads, Luc confronted her about her reluctance to dine with him that evening at Caverness. It was a conversation Gabrielle had seen coming. It wasn’t one she particularly wanted to have.

‘I’m not ashamed that we’re lovers, Gabrielle,’ he said, his expression tightly controlled as he pulled a clean shirt from his overnight bag and shoved his arms through the sleeves. ‘Why are you?’

‘I’m not,’ she said defensively, a damp towel wrapped securely around her as she rummaged through the wardrobe for something to wear. ‘I’m just uncomfortable about going to Caverness with Josien there, that’s all.’ There, she’d said it.

‘She can hardly bring herself to even acknowledge you, Gabrielle,’ said Luc bluntly. ‘What makes you think she’ll give a damn?’

‘She probably won’t,’ muttered Gabrielle, shielding
her distress from Luc behind an open cupboard door. ‘But it’d be like handing her a weapon, and I do know what she does with those.’

And then Luc’s hands were on her shoulders, gently turning her around to face him. ‘I won’t let her hurt you,’ he said quietly.

‘Luc…’ Gabrielle tried to think of a way to convey her fears without provoking the warrior in him. ‘This isn’t your fight, it’s mine and I just don’t want to set her off again.’

‘I’ll stop her,’ said Luc. ‘Trust me.’

But in this she could not. ‘You know what she said to me last time?’ she said with the bracing of her shoulders and the clenching of her heart. ‘She said that Harrison wasn’t Rafe’s father.’

Luc stilled, every inch of his big body radiating tension. ‘Did she tell you who was?’

‘No.’ Gabrielle’s lips twisted. ‘My guess is she’s saving that little snippet for the moment where it will do the most damage. How can I look at her after that, Luc? How can I look at her and not hate her?’ Luc stared at her in silence, his expression guarded but not surprised. It was his lack of surprise, the swift calculation behind his gaze before he offered up a response, that caused her to step back swiftly, away from his touch. ‘You know.’ Her hands shook, everything shook. ‘You know who Rafe’s father is.’

Luc inclined his head warily.

‘Who?’ Gabrielle clenched her arms tightly around her middle. ‘Lucien, who?’ Dear God, not Phillipe. That would make Rafe half-brother to Lucien, half brother to Simone, and that would destroy him. Him
and Simone both. She shook her head. ‘No. No, it
can’t
be.’ She couldn’t hold Luc’s gaze. ‘Not Phillipe.’

‘It’s not Phillipe,’ said Luc immediately. ‘God, no! Is that what you thought?’

‘I didn’t know what to think! She gave me half the story, Luc. The only man I’ve ever known who was able to reason with Josien was your father. The only man ever to put up with her moods was your father! What was I supposed to think?’

‘It wasn’t Phillipe,’ said Luc. ‘Gabrielle, no! Rafe’s father was a guest here at Caverness. A friend of my father’s who came to stay for the summer the year your mother turned sixteen. A man well used to taking what he wanted. A prince.’

‘He
raped
her? This
prince
amongst men?’

‘No.’ Luc smiled grimly. ‘Your mother fell in love with him. And he with her, at least for a little while. Until she fell pregnant. He would not marry her, Gabrielle. He could not. His marriage had already been arranged.’

‘To a princess, no doubt.’

‘That bit I don’t know.’

Gabrielle’s initial fury that Luc had known all along what she didn’t was gone, washed away in the relief that Phillipe was not Rafael’s father. But cold, hard anger remained and found a target in Luc. ‘So how do you know what you do know? Why you and no one else?’

‘My father told me before he died. He felt responsible for Josien’s circumstances to some extent. Responsible for Rafael’s upbringing, and yours too for that matter. He had assured the prince that Josien and
her child would always have a home at Caverness. He wanted to make sure I would not renege on his words.’

‘He did
what
?’

‘He did what he could,’ said Luc. ‘Surely you can see that? My father wasn’t always right. He wasn’t often there, for that matter. But he was honourable, and he did what he could to improve your mother’s lot.’

‘I—’ Gabrielle stared at him, barely taking in the words. ‘Oh, damn.’ It explained so much about her mother’s attitude and her actions, her biases and her rage. Why Josien had never had any time or love for Rafael. Why Gabrielle had been shipped off so rapidly after Josien had found her and Luc together. ‘So it’s true. You have no idea how badly I didn’t want it to be true.’ What was she supposed to
do
with this information? ‘Does Rafe know?’

‘I’ve never told him,’ said Luc.

Then he didn’t know. Rafael thought Harrison Alexander was his father. ‘Does Simone know?’

‘No. At least, I think not. Again, I’ve never told her,’ said Luc gruffly. ‘I’ve never told anyone, Gabrielle. Until now.’

‘Thank you.’ With her arms still tightly clasped around her waist, Gabrielle tried a smile but couldn’t keep it on her face. Rafael was only her half-brother and the bastard son of some lousy prince who’d once had a penchant for seducing sixteen-year-old girls. Rafe would love that. ‘What do I tell him?’ she whispered. ‘What do I tell Rafe?’

‘If you want my advice, nothing,’ said Luc. ‘This isn’t your secret to tell, Gabrielle. This is between Josien and Rafe.’

‘So why did she go and tell
me
?’

Luc sighed heavily. ‘My guess is that you were right. She wanted to wound you, and what better way than by trying to take away from you the one person who’s always been there for you? She wants you gone, Gabrielle. You threaten her. You always have.’

‘I threaten nothing!’

‘She sees herself in you: a class-locked woman about to take up with a wealthy man who’ll doubtless discard you after the fascination fades. She sees no other course for you.’

‘She’s wrong,’ said Gabrielle in a low and shaking voice. ‘I have
many
options open to me.’

‘Happens I think so too,’ murmured Luc. ‘She can’t win this battle, Gabrielle. She can’t take Rafe away from you and she can’t make me stay away from you either. Not this time. Not unless you let her. Come to Caverness with me tonight. Stay for dinner. Stay the night. Fight her. Don’t you dare let her win.’

‘I won’t.’ She was not like her mother. She refused to be. ‘I’ll come to Caverness with you.’ While the fear of not being strong enough to withstand yet another of Josien’s vicious assaults wrapped around her like a suffocating and blinding fog.

‘And you’ll stay the night in my bed?’

‘Yes.’

Luc crossed to her and took her in his arms and she let him, absorbing his strength and his certainty. She would need it for the night ahead. He smiled his encouragement and his lips brushed hers. A promise wrapped in a kiss. ‘That’s my girl.’