Sizzle All Day (37 page)

Cowering beneath the bed-hanging, she cried, "But I can't leave. My daughter is missing."

"No she's not. She's meeting her husband for a tupping even as we speak. Nothing's keeping you here, Henrietta. Can I count on your going or should I pack my bags to tag along?"

"I'm gone. First light, I'm headed for home. We don't have ghosts in Boston."

"No? But I hear y'all make a good baked bean."

In the musty passageway, he paused long enough to grab the towel from his pile of supplies and wipe the paint from his face before making his way downstairs. Ten minutes later, he entered the dungeon and immediately heard Gillian's voice and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Damn, but he'd been worried.

Now that he wasn't worried any longer, he remembered he was angry at her.

Pasting on a scowl, he followed the sound of her voice toward the infamous dungeon bedchamber. As he drew closer, he started listening to the words she sputtered. "The girl was not spanked enough as a child. That mother of hers needs more than a haunting, she needs a tongue lashing. And Annabelle, that girl needs a—"

"What?" he asked, sauntering into the room.

The second he saw her he stopped cold. His heart went
tha-thump
. "Gillian? What is going on here?"

"That pest Annabelle chained me to the wall, that's what's going on. She's gone to sift through the torture devices."

"She thinks to torture you?"

"No, they're for herself. She's looking for one she can strap herself into that won't hurt too much."

Jake pursed his lips and nodded. "Of course. We wouldn't want a torture device to hurt."

Gillian scowled at him. "It's a test for David. After she chose not to use the breast-ripper on him, she decided to see who he would choose to rescue first—her or me."

"Breast-ripper?" he repeated, wincing at the thought.

"Just get me out of here, Jake. I think the keys for these chains are in the small wooden box just inside the door of the chamber next to this one."

Now that he knew the situation here, Jake took a minute to take stock. "Are you hurt, Gillian? In any pain?"

"No, not really."

"Good."
My oh my, princess.

"My arms are going to sleep, though."

Every part of him was wide awake.

"Jake, get the key."

"The key. In a minute, honey." Jake was distracted. He was very distracted. He sucked in a breath past his teeth. "I guess it would be crass of me to admit that I'm having an erotic moment here."

"You need not admit anything. Your feileadh mor is tenting."

"I know. Believe me, I know." He was hard enough to drive a railroad spike.

"I thought you said this sort of thing wasn't a preference of yours."

"It's not. Hasn't been, anyway. But we keep finding ourselves in these... circumstances." His feet scuffed the floor as he walked toward her. He'd have pulled at his collar if he'd had one. "Damn, princess. This is making me hot. If you didn't have so many clothes on...."

"Go get the key, Jake."

His blood hadn't boiled this hot since... well... this morning, anyway. "But—"

"Now."

"Oh, all right." He started to turn, but stopped mid-pivot. "Gillian, just one...." Before she could voice the word to stop him, he knelt on one knee at her feet.

"Jake?"

"Just let me? Just a little?" Reverently, he removed her slipper, then slipping his hand beneath her skirt, untied her stocking. He caressed her soft skin as he tugged the stocking down, through the iron cuff around her ankle, and off.

"Oh God, princess." Bare toes and bondage. He thought he just might explode.

Her voice sounded thready as she repeated. "Get. The. Key."

"But—"

"Now, Jake. Annabelle could return any second. David is due soon."

"Oh, man." He grimaced and groaned. "What if I shut the door? It probably locks. I could be quick. Hell, wouldn't even have to take time to drop my pants since I'm wearing a skirt."

"Jake, you're begging."

"Yes. Oh, yes."

The witch wiggled her toes then, and laughed when he moaned with pain. "You are so pitiful. Listen, Texas, I'll promise to come back here with you another time if you'll go get the key and let me loose now. Right now."

"Oh, all right. This really is a torture chamber, isn't it."

He found the key following a brief search, then he made quick work of the manacles. He kissed her wrists, now chafed and red. "Why, you were hurting. You should have told me. I wouldn't have played around with you like that."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward her for a quick, hard kiss on the lips. "I like you playing around with me."

He shook his head. "Don't do this to me, Gillian. I'm hurting, too, and I don't think you want to be kissing it better right here and now, no matter how much I like the thought."

Chuckling, she released him and started for the door. "We'd better find Annabelle. No telling what trouble she's managed to get herself into."

They located her in a storeroom farther into the dungeons. She had moved a Chair of Spikes away from the wall and was attempting to push it out into the hall. Jake looked from the chair to his wife. "Princess, I'm beginning to wonder about your ancestors." Addressing Annabelle, he said. "Darlin', what do you think you're gonna do with that?"

"Sit in it," she said, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her dress. "I'm going to move it next to Gillian and sit in it and see who he rescues first."

"Makes a person pucker just to think about it," Jake said, testing a spike with his finger. "Darlin, I understand your desire to test your husband's love—it's a female fault—but you have to realize that matters of the heart aren't always so black and white. I'm new to the in-love state myself, but I've known a lot of loving couples in my days, and one thing I've figured out is that love isn't proven in big, flashy rescues from a torture chair in a Scottish dungeon. It's those little rescues and rewards that accumulate day in, day out, year after year, that truly show what is in a person's heart."

"But I don't have years," she wailed. "I have tonight. Gillian said she's leaving and I must know before she goes. I can't wonder about this the rest of my life. If we somehow work out our problems but he's never been forced to choose, I'll always have that doubt. I need to know. I need to know if he loves me or Gillian."

"Oh, Annabelle, you don't need—"

He broke off at the sound of a man's voice railing. "Gillian? Are you down here?"

"It's David," Gillian said.

"Oh, no," Annabelle sobbed. "She's loose. I'm not stuck to the chair. We don't need rescuing. There's no test. Now I'll never know."

Jake raked his fingers through his hair.
Well, hell. The
poor
thing is purely pitiful.

Gillian said, "Hush now, it's all right. We'll figure out another way."

The hell we will. I'm done with plans. We're takin' care of this right here, right now.
He pushed Gillian into the storeroom whispering, "I'll take care of it. It's a dirty job, but someone's got to do it. The sacrifices a man makes for the women in his life...."

So saying, he took Annabelle into his arms and commenced to kissing her just as David moved to within sight.

"Gillian?"

Jake broke the kiss, despite the resistance Annabelle gave him at doing so.
Little thing's got the suction of on octopus.
Acting as if he meant to shield her from Maclean's gaze, but in reality calling the other man's attention to her, he shoved Annabelle behind him. "I'll protect you, honey."

"Annabelle? Is that you?"

The boy is sharp as a marble.

Maclean rushed to meet them in the lantern-lit gloom. "Annabelle, my God! What are you doing down here?"

She stuck her head out from around Jake's shoulder. "I was kissing my lover, Jake."

Oh, shit.

Maclean's eyes flashed. "No. This is one of your dramas. One of your games. You are always say—" He broke off abruptly as if a thought had occurred to him. His gaze flicked down to Jake's skirt, then back up. He looked mad enough to chew nails. "You Texan bastard, you keep your filthy hands off my wife."

"Why should I? You're sure as hell anxious enough to get your paws on my wife. You're down here looking for her, aren't you? You had a rendezvous planned?"

"Yes. No." He waved his arm in dismissal. "I knew Gillian wouldn't be here. I know her better than that. She said what she did to keep me from going home which I took to mean that Annabelle put her up to it. I expected to find my wife in this dungeon, but I never expected to find her with the likes of you."

Annabelle stepped out from behind Jake, then threaded her arm through his and cuddled up against him. "It doesn't matter what you expected. You don't matter to me anymore. Jake and I are together now. Gillian just married him for his money, you know. Just like you married me for mine. Now Jake owns Rowanclere, I'm moving in, and Gillian is moving away. If you want her, you're welcome to her."

"I don't believe you."

"It's true." She gave her head a toss. "Tonight's party was just for show, wasn't it, Jake?"

Jake nodded. He didn't have a problem with that. Tonight's shindig was certainly a show. "And Gillian is leaving Rowanclere. I expect her to be gone by the end of the week." His arm around Annabelle's waist, Jake gave her a squeeze and decided to bring this confrontation to a head. "So, Maclean, your wife tells me my johnson is a helluva lot bigger than yours."

The Scotsman was quick. A roar of rage echoed through the dungeon as he lunged toward Jake, his arms extended, hands aimed for the neck. Jake blocked him and they wrestled a bit. Then, finally, he threw the punch he'd dreamed of throwing since he first heard Maclean's name on Gillian's lips.

Knuckles cracked against chin. Jake knew Maclean had to see stars. Stopping to gloat was a mistake, as demonstrated by the
whumph
that blew from his mouth following a roundhouse to the gut.

After that, they got down to serious fighting. It was a regular dungeon brawl, rolling and pounding and punching. No biting or kicking, and Jake had to admire that in the Scotsman. He hadn't had this much fun since he left Texas—discounting sex with Gillian, of course.

Then Annabelle had to ruin it by dumping a bottle of champagne on them.

Jake rolled off Maclean and lay on his back, trying to catch his breath. Having worked off some of the tension that had plagued him since ogling his chained-to-the-wall wife, he felt pretty damned good.
Too bad she didn't spill any champagne on Gillian.
I could lick it up to celebrate.

Then Annabelle started sobbing, popping the bubbles of Jake's good mood. "Get up, D-d-david Maclean. Get up and go to Gillian, to the woman you want. I never want to see you again."

Maclean scowled, wiggled one of his front teeth, and glared up at his wife. "Haud yer wheest, woman. You're not throwing me over."

"Yes I am."

"Nae, you're not. You are my wife and you are going to stay my wife."

"No, I'm not. We can't live together!"

"We can if I build a new castle for your mother."

She gasped and clasped her hands to her breast. "You would do that for me?"

Scowling fiercely, he nodded.

After checking his nose for breaks, Jake stood and readjusted his skirt. "No need to go to the trouble. Mrs. Lehrman is headed back to Boston at first light. Doesn't like our ghosts."

"It worked!" Annabelle wrapped her arms around Jake and hugged him hard.

Gillian must have figured enough was enough about then, because she emerged from the storeroom. David saw her and his eyes went wide. "Gillian, you were here all the time?"

"All of it. I heard everything." She glanced from Annabelle, to Jake, to David, then back to Annabelle again. "They told the truth, David. I am leaving Rowandere. I want this finished once and for all. You need to choose which woman you want, now and forever. Who is it to be, sir. Annabelle or myself?"

The man looked like he'd swallowed a mouthful of green whisky. "Oh, Gilly—"

"Choose, David."

He looked from one woman to the other. Annabelle dried her tears, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin. Jake was right proud of her.

Then the Scotsman met Gillian's gaze head on. "I love her. I love Annabelle."

Gillian beamed a tender smile as Annabelle threw herself at her husband. "Of course you do, David. You wouldn't have married her otherwise."

Extending a hand to her own mate, she said, "Come upstairs, Texas."

"Yes. Our business here is done."

"Aye, after I mention that if I ever see your lips on another woman's again, I won't be this understanding."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"See that you do."

Jake and Gillian made their way toward the staircase leading out of the dungeon. At the base, Jake paused. He held up a finger, signaling for her to wait. Detouring into the bedchamber, he retrieved what he wanted, then returned to his wife. "It's been a long night. Let's go to bed, shall we?"

Gillian eyed the handcuffs slung over his shoulder, smiled, and said, "Aye, my lord. Our bed. What a fine idea."

"We can save the wall for next time."

* * *

Following a few short hours of sleep, Jake and Gillian concluded their duties as host of the foy as those guests who had stayed the night at Rowanclere made their departures. First up and out was Henrietta Lehrman, So intent was she to leave that Jake was forced to return to the dungeon and bang on the bedchamber door. However, once he explained his reason for being there, the happy couple had all but run over him on their way upstairs.

It was only after the mother and daughter's tearful good-byes that Gillian noticed the evil contraption in David's hands, "David, one of the rules we have here at Rowanclere is that torture devices are not allowed out of the dungeon. Think of Robyn and her mischief."

"I'll take it right back down," he told her, his smile wreathing his face as he swung the branks slowly back and forth by its chain. "I brought it just as a precaution in case she resisted at the end."