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Alex pressed her hands against his massive chest, frantically trying to make some sense out of his drunken ramblings. His arms were like steel manacles around her, not allowing her to escape. There was not a doubt in her mind that in his present condition he was capable of anything. Nor was there any doubt that she was the cause of his blind rage. Apparently he had interpreted her actions tonight as a betrayal of their vows. And he intended to punish her for it.
Alex shoved ineffectually at Drake’s chest, twisting her head away from him, struggling to free herself from his relentless hold. He caught her face in his hand, forcing her lips to meet his seeking mouth. It was a brutal kiss, an assertion of power, and Alex whimpered softly in protest.
Drake lifted his mouth from hers only slightly, staring down into her frightened face. “You can skip the performance, princess. It won’t work. I intend to have you. And there’s not a damned thing you can do to stop me.”
“Why are you acting like this?” Alex implored, their mouths so close that she could smell the brandy on his breath. Despite her trembling fear, she could sense a raw desperation at the core of Drake’s violence. A desperation that she sought to understand.
“Because, despite your attempt to prove otherwise, I am the only man in your life and in your bed.” His fingers tightened on her chin, and Alex winced with pain.
“You know I’ve never been with another man,” she whispered in a small, shaken voice.
“There has never been an opportunity … until now.”
She swallowed deeply. “It wouldn’t matter. I don’t want anyone but you.”
“Stop lying to me!” he commanded in a hoarse voice.
“I’m not lying, Drake.” Alex sensed that they had reached a precipice, that the solution to the problem lay just beyond her grasp. Instinctively she knew that she could heal him if she just reached far enough, was willing to take the enormous risk.
She reached up with a small, cold hand and stroked his taut jaw. Her fingers, her voice, trembled.
“I’m not like her.”
Drake froze, staring down at her, a look of stark emotion on his face. “Like whom?”
It was time to risk it all. “Your mother.”
He caught her by the shoulders, his fingers biting into her arms. “What the hell do you know of my mother?”
“I know she hurt you. I know you believe that all women are like her. We’re not. I’m not.”
He swore under his breath, pushing her away from him with a force so strong that she fell back onto the bed.
“Hurt me? No, she didn’t hurt me, princess. I am far too strong to be hurt by anyone, least of all a common slut.” At Alex’s gasp, he laughed bitterly. “Oh, it was all very proper. She provided my father with an heir—two of them, in fact. And then she was free to play. And play she did, with anyone and everyone who had the anatomical requirement between his legs.” He raked his fingers through his hair, sweat covering his forehead. “Oh, she was very discreet—so discreet, in fact, that no one knew about it, least of all my father. There was only one problem with all of this. He adored her, worshiped her, with his whole heart and soul. In his eyes my mother could do no wrong; she was just short of a saint. And she let him believe she felt the same way, gazing up at him so tenderly, making him think he was the only man on earth.”
He turned away from Alex, his profile cast in shadows. “I grew up believing my mother was the epitome of womanhood, everything that was beautiful and soft and caring. And then I was out riding one day when I was fourteen, and I found her in a secluded spot far away from the house. She was beneath the Earl of Locksley, her skirts tossed up, moaning like a common whore.
“And that is not the worst of it. Later that night she asked to see me alone and calmly told me that she felt no guilt for what she had done, that my father was a fine man but just not enough for her, and that she would continue to live her life as she saw fit. There was not a drop of remorse in those cold green eyes. She suggested that I refrain from mentioning this to my father, for it would destroy him. Then she shrugged and said that, of course, it was my decision to make. She didn’t even give a damn.”
Drake faced Alex, angry and agonized and betrayed. “I never told him, because she was right; it would have killed him. I spent the next eight years of my life watching her deceive him again and again, unable to do a damned thing about it. No one else in the family ever knew. My father died without knowing what a bitch he had married.
“And I soon found, through my own experience, that my mother was far from unique. Every woman I encountered had the same shallow, destructive values. And I swore that no woman would ever do that to me.” The memory of Alex’s behavior tonight returned to claw at his soul. He took slow, menacing steps toward the bed, his words cold and deliberate. “You are never again going to humiliate me in public or in private. Ever.” He towered over her, his body shaking with anger, past and present.
Tears streamed slowly down Alex’s face as she realized the severity of Drake’s wounds. “I would never do that to you, Drake,” she whispered, then shook her head at the cynicism and hollow victory she saw on his face. “Not because I am afraid of what you would do to me, but because I love you.”
He froze, his face set in rigid lines. Then he swooped down upon her, catching her hands in his and lowering the weight of his body on top of hers.
“Damn you … damn you! Don’t you ever say those words to me again,” he growled. “They are meaningless; there is no such thing as love.”
“There is. I love you, Drake.” She lifted her head to kiss the pulse that throbbed at his throat. “I would never hurt you, never betray your trust.” She kissed his Adam’s apple gently. “I love you,” she whispered against his hot skin. “I love you,” she repeated, rubbing her face softly against his chin. “I love you.”
A deep groan rumbled from within Drake’s chest as he capitulated to her words, her caresses. He lowered his face to hers, crushed her lips beneath his in a kiss of savage demand, tightened his fingers on hers as if to bind her to him against her will.
No coercion was necessary. Alex opened to his command, to his fiery tongue and burning kisses, arching herself against him and offering him everything she had, all that she was.
He released her hands to tangle his fingers in her hair, whispering incoherent words against her delicate skin. There was no escape from this madness, this insatiable need she aroused in him, and Drake wasn’t certain he even wanted to try. He was on fire, lost in the flames of hell, desperately seeking the heaven she offered.
“Alex …” He buried his mouth in the scented hollow of her throat, as her hand moved between them and beneath his robe to find him, to stroke him in tender welcome.
