Sleeping Love (9 page)

‘I have waited a long time to have you underneath me again,’ he whispered close to her ear.

Sabrina’s reply was a small cry of surprised pleasure when without warning, he slipped his fingers beneath the black silk. He caressed the small bud nestled between her thighs with two purposeful strokes and a gentle pinch to squeeze the juice from it. Sabrina felt herself moisten obediently on cue. Raoul murmured his approval as he lowered his lips to the breast he scooped out from her bra cup. Sabrina arched her body on the bed, as he nipped at its plump, ripe, tip with his teeth.

The moment her body moved, Raoul took advantage and slipped a finger inside her moist inviting entrance. He pulsed his digit back and forth feeling her begin to writhe beneath him. Sabrina thought she might die. It had been a long time since she had allowed any man to touch her so intimately, and she wanted all that he could give her.

Damn the consequences. This is heaven.

All of a sudden he moved off and swept his hands across her hips frowning.

‘Next time, Sabrina, don’t wear a bra or panties, especially when you are at home with me. They are very pretty and alluring, but you know I prefer to find you naked under your clothes,’ he instructed firmly. Sabrina’s body jumped involuntarily when she felt him snap the flimsy straps that supported her thong and draw it out from under her. ‘I want to be able to touch you whenever and wherever I like. You should remember the rule, darling,’ he told her, tossing the remnants of the material to the floor. ‘You know what happens when you break it,’ he grinned.

She shook her head enthralled, curious and shocked that she was becoming impossibly damp between her thighs wondering what he would do. Her mind may not have remembered Raoul, but her body knew his practiced caress well and wept with pleasure at feeling it again.

‘No I don’t. What happens?’ she whispered, not believing she was even having the nerve to ask. With a jolt his finger was back inside her and joined by a second in one deep dominant thrust making her cry out.

Raoul lowered his mouth over hers once more, and in response she opened her own willingly, allowing him to take it with force.

‘I think it’s time I reminded you.’

‘Monsieur Valoire, I need to speak to you urgently,’ Francine’s worried voice and knock at the door made them both stop and look at each other with frustrated smouldering desire.

‘What is it, Francine?’ Raoul asked, making no effort to hide the impatience in his tone as he lifted off Sabrina.

She tried to sit up but only found herself being lowered back down with firm hands. He rested his arm over her body to restrain any further attempt at escape, whilst he lovingly cradled her breast in his hand, flexing his thumb over its tip.

‘The business papers you required have been delivered by courier,’ the woman hesitated. ‘The courier says that the papers must be signed and returned with him now.’

Raoul gave a heavy impatient sigh.

‘All right, Francine. I will be down in a few minutes.’

Raoul closed his mouth over Sabrina’s once again, his probe of her mouth deep and uncompromising. She reached up for him, her arms around his neck bringing him down to take more of him inside. She couldn’t help herself. Despite everything, his touch on her body felt so right, so natural.

‘I want you so much,’ he whispered, grazing his teeth over her swollen bottom lip. ‘But I have to go. Unfortunately, those papers are very important for a merger of one of my companies. I am sorry. I really don’t want to leave you,’ he breathed stealing another kiss.

He gave her breast a gentle squeeze making her gasp and then gently replaced it back inside her bra.

‘Remember, don’t wear that again,’ he grinned, caressing a finger around the cup of her bra. ‘I won’t be long. I want to give you a tour of the Chateau and show you your life here. Then I want to take you in to Paris for the rest of the day.’

‘I will have to put on some new panties,’ she chastised.

‘No. I meant what I said, Sabrina. I wasn’t kidding. I hate it, and you have never disappointed me that way before.’ He was deadly serious then a smile spread over his lips. ‘You have a lot to remember about us, Sabrina, a lot more than you realise.’

‘It seems I have,’ she said frowning at him.

He gave her one last aching kiss and stood unable to tear his eyes away from her as she lay on the bed.

‘By the way I cancelled your lecture after we spoke to Dr. Martin. I explained your situation, and they will contact you about re-scheduling it,’ he told her matter-of-factly without any emotion or even remorse.

‘You did what? How dare you. Who gave you the right?’ she demanded, sitting up covering herself with her dress again.

‘Until you are well and safe from that man who kidnapped and raped you, I am in control of your life. Get used to it fast,’ he told her formally, leaning over her small form that sat on the bed. ‘I am taking you back as my wife, Sabrina, if I have to drag you back kicking and screaming.’

Chapter Eight

‘Nothing really. I like cars, especially fast cars and apparently I am able to give you a run for your money on horseback. And according to Francine, I always wanted to stop being a solicitor and take a degree in history.’

Control freak.

Sabrina’s study was on the ground floor at the back of the house, not far away from Raoul’s. It was a large square room with old paintings of horses and ladies and gentlemen in seventeenth and eighteenth century dress. A black marble desk that appeared to look more like a table to Sabrina, was situated at the far end of the room. Two long windows, dressed in beige and black damask curtains that hit the floor, overlooked the moat allowing light to flood the room.

The air was still a little chilly. It was as though time stood still in the room. Sabrina rubbed her arms. For all her bluster her heart had pounded as she’d watched Raoul unlock the door and lead her in. Now she was glad of his company. At first there was nothing, no memory, absolutely nothing. Dismay hit her hard. She approached the large oversized desk that was bare, apart from an old style laptop. Nervously, she reached out to touch it. Raoul remained quiet and watchful of her every move looking for signs of distress or memory gain.

A blurred black image shot across Sabrina’s mind making her hold her breath. She could hear voices again, angry voices. Her own was one of them. Then she watched herself being pushed to the floor accompanied by a sudden crushing realisation that she could not escape what was about to happen, no matter how hard she fought. She was forced to lie flat. Her rapist was on top of her body, squashing her into the floor with his weight. Try as she might she could not see his face. The images her memory chose to show her were cloudy, wispy and ethereal. All she could hear was her frantic pleading and his excited breathing. The man smelt of stale cigarette smoke making bile rise from her stomach. The terror she felt at the time was acute. Now the feeling was fresh and renewed with strength, threatening to suffocate her. Tears were streaming down her face, and she was vaguely away of sobbing with fear. But she forced herself to concentrate on holding the memory and enlarging it, just as she had tried to do before. Unfortunately, she was to be defeated by the will of her mind. The moment she recounted the rapist’s first vicious touch of her bare flesh between her thighs under her dress, the memory disappeared.

‘Shh, Sabrina, open your eyes. You are safe. It isn’t happening again. I promise you,’ Raoul’s voice was heavily concerned and fearful for her.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself lying curled up like a child on the wooden floor. Her face was wet with tears and her body was convulsing with the tremors of shock and fear. Raoul was bent over her prostrate form doing his best to cuddle her and lift her from the floor. Immediately, she felt ashamed, embarrassed, and hurried to lift herself straight, horrified she could have let herself go like that.

Raoul refused to let go of her. He pulled Sabrina’s reluctant body against his chest and held her there tightly. Not until her shaking began to lessen did he slacken his grip.

‘I want you to remember, Sabrina, but I don’t want you to suffer like this . . . I shouldn’t have let you come in here. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, darling,’ he whispered, running his fingers gently through her hair.

‘No, I need to remember. It’s better I find out and face it,’ she lied.

Why do I have to remember that? I don’t want to. Why would anyone want to remember being raped? Ignorance is bliss in this case. I hate this . . .

‘We need to take this at a slow pace. I won’t have you hurt this way. Come on, I want to get you out of here and the house. You need room to breathe.’

The car journey to Paris, which was to take them an hour and a half, was spent in silence. Sabrina sat with her arms folded staring into space. Neither one of them talked anymore of what had happened in the study. She couldn’t help feeling that she had no control of her life anymore and that Raoul was dictating it to her now.

‘How long is your mood going to last this time?’ Raoul asked with a sigh, clearly unable to bear the silence and picking up on Sabrina’s mental discomfort.

He started to speak in French with frustration at a pace she’d never heard anyone speak before. She was fed up with him calling her stubborn and complaining that she would not see sense and reason.

‘Right that’s it. Stop the car. Stop the damn car,’ she shouted at the driver.

The car pulled onto the side of the busy road, and she got out of the vehicle before Raoul could stop her from moving.

It was bitterly cold. Paris was shrouded in a light winter mist. But all she could think about was getting away. She ran up some steps and passed through a gate finding that she had entered the Tuileries Gardens. She was vaguely aware of Raoul calling her name, but she didn’t want to listen. She padded out onto the white powdery floor of the gardens that teemed with visitors from every nation in the world in the summer, but was now deserted in the winter.

There was a sharp pull on her arm, and she found herself being swung round to face Raoul. She let out a cry as the memory of her attacker spinning her around sprang into her mind. She jerked away from him as though she’d been burnt by his touch. She collected her thoughts, wondering. Slowly, his eyes narrowed with comprehension as he read the conflicting emotions flashing with confusion in her eyes.

What if I was going to leave him because I found out he was having an affair, and he tried to stop me from going? He is prepared to keep me prisoner to make me regain my memory, but maybe he is trying to control the memories I retrieve?

She looked into his eyes, they were dangerous, dark, mysterious and far too sexy to resist. As she stared into them the less afraid she became, the more she was convinced she was wrong.