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“You have no master to serve.”
“Exactly.”
“And with no master in charge, Ms. Priestly, you become fair game for any man who wears the mark.” His smirk looked particularly suggestive. “I suppose you could stumble on some good soul like your husband Erik, or you could find yourself in the clutches of a despicable despot. Either way, you’d be obliged to serve the man as you would serve a god, because that’s what this Marquis is in your world.”
Laney gulped visibly. He seemed to fling his words like arrows.
“Isn’t that right?”
“Yes, I suppose that’s right.”
“And that’s exactly why I suggested that what you’re doing is dangerous. A man like me who knows the meaning of that bracelet could make formidable claims on you, which you would be forced to submit to. Do you get that?”
“Yes, I do…” Her entire body trembled, frightened and aroused.
“And you take that chance?”
“I’m taking that chance right now, aren’t I?”
He raised his brows in amusement. “You certainly are. But maybe you want the challenge of facing a strange master? Is that what it is? Maybe you want the punishment that comes from violating the rules.”
Hearing that word—punishment—Laney seized up again, silent and stunned. She could feel her whole body tremble with pain; not true pain, not the feeling of floggers, paddles and whips on her skin, or the pain of bondage that cut into her flesh, or the pain of humiliation that made her burn with shame. She could feel the lies and the defiance of the rules like some terrible sin. But to speak to a stranger about such intimate matters was difficult. To speak with a stranger about punishment left her open and vulnerable. She had no idea what this fisherman had in mind as he persisted in this discussion, but she dared not fight him. She knew this much. Her body responded, tingling in anticipation of the cruelty she knew she could expect from a stinging lash, or a painful wooden paddle. Is that what she really wanted?
“Maybe that is what I want,” she ventured, thoughtfully, “I mean, I expected someone would contact me after my husband’s death. But so far…you’re the first person who has recognized the bracelet for what it is. Oddly enough, I sought you out.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
Her desiring body seemed to ooze toward him, although she hadn’t taken a step. The erotic power of the island, and the book still resting on the shelf, and the lust that surfaced between them raw and savage seemed almost cataclysmic now.
“I really wasn’t trying to hide anything…” she stopped, realizing how silly that sounded.
“Hide? You weren’t trying to hide yourself?” he chuckled to himself.
Laney felt as if her head was spinning, and her tongue was tied in knots—this was not like her. She took a cleansing breath, renewing her resolve. “Yes, of course, I was being evasive, Mr. Greenwood,” she blurted out. “But wouldn’t it be more prudent not to divulge my true intent for this trip to a total stranger? I would think my lack of candor would be protecting myself. I had no idea that you knew anything about these secret matters. I had no way of knowing what kind of man you were; in fact, you’re still a mystery to me.”
He smiled ruefully, “So true.” He was silent for a time, the two still eyeing each other carefully as if engaged in a game of strategy, then as if something in the air simply shifted, the tension between them seemed to fall away. He suddenly sighed and smiled. Standing up, he looked her straight in the eye. “Well, given what your goal is, Ms. Priestly, I can’t see any reason to stay here any longer. You’re not going to find the Marquis inside these walls. Maybe we need to be heading back to St. Martina.”
This was the very last thing Laney expected him to say. “Oh, but is that really necessary? I mean so soon?” she jumped in anxiously. “I really would like to stay long enough to get some answers…” she cocked her head, her eyes revealing her deep longing, “unless you can help me find what I’m looking for. I mean there has to be some clue, something in this house. Am I wrong?”
“You want to find the Marquis?”
“Yes.”
“Then what exactly are you looking for?”
“I don’t know. But I’m not above exploring the place. Unless there’s something you can tell me that will lead me to him,” she beseeched him almost begging now.
“I never said I was one of the Marquis’ confidants. All I know of his whereabouts is the Paris post office address. You’d need more than that to find him.”
“Then would it hurt to look around here?”
“No, I suppose not.”
The air between them bristled. Laney’s desperation fueled her emotions, which were raw and even frightening. But there was something coming from Alex too that added to the chaotic feeling swirling around her. She waited, afraid to budge until he made the first move.
Suddenly, Alex had made up the distance between them and was inside her space. She shuddered visibly and looked away, embarrassed. When he reached in and pulled his fingers through her hair, she closed her eyes while her body seemed to vibrate with Alex Greenwood’s. Lust came at her in huge waves of desire. It had been so long, too long since she’d felt a man so close, so real, so determinedly in her space and attempting to conquer her hesitation with a firm grasp on his own sexual intentions. She wanted most for him to kiss her, to press his lips against hers, and open his mouth on hers, devouringly. But satisfying her need was not that easy. Alex Greenwood was not an easy man; so she’d learn
.
