The chair!
She woke gasping, her heart pounding.
Her breasts were swollen, the tips sensitive as they brushed the coverlet.
She was shaking uncontrollably, and there was a strange ache between her thighs.
Hunger. Heat. Emptiness.
She hadn’t really gone to him. It hadn’t happened. It had only been a dream, an erotic reflection of the story Jordan had told her.
The chair…
Your hands are shaking,” Jordan observed. He shifted in the chair and slung one leg over the arm. “Be careful you don’t cut yourself.”
“I won’t cut myself.” She glanced away from him as she carefully cut a petal-shaped piece of glass. “If you’ll stop talking and disturbing me.”
“You have circles beneath your eyes. Did you have trouble sleeping?”
“No.”
“I did. I didn’t sleep at all. I thought about you lying in your bed down the hall just a few yards away. It was most disturbing.” From the corner of her eye she saw him begin to swing his foot. “To entertain myself, I started thinking about stained glass and the interesting things you could do with it.”
“I’ve been fully aware of those things for a number of years.”
“But you haven’t explored all the possibilities. I’ll tell you what I have planned, if you like.”
“I do not like.”
“Well, it could be a little advanced for you. Later, perhaps. The stallion and the mare will be interesting enough discussion for this evening. Are you looking forward to it?”
“No.”
“I think you are. After all, satisfying your curiosity isn’t dangerous. I’m even permitting you a sense of outraged virtue by forcing you to listen to my scandalous confessions. Every woman enjoys knowing what hell she puts men through.”
“I don’t enjoy it.”
His mockery faded. “My apologies then. You’re not like other women in that respect. You have no malice.” He continued on a lighter note, “But you do have curiosity, and I shall seek earnestly to appease it.”
She didn’t answer, and he fell silent.
The air seemed too heavy to breathe.
He was watching her.
He was thinking about her.
He was waiting for her.
The chair.
Did you dream about the stallion last night?”
“No,” she lied.
“Did he mount you from behind?”
She didn’t answer.
“Was the stallion me?” he asked softly.
She turned her back on him and pretended to hold the panel up to the window to hide the color flaring in her cheeks.
“What a pretty backside you have. Small and pert and tight. It’s no wonder I have such wicked thoughts.”
“You should not have told me such terrible things,” she said desperately. “You would not say such things to Dorothy.”
“I would not say such things to anyone but you. Dorothy is a fine woman, but she’s bound by the very rules she thinks she flouts. She will never take the final step and tell those people she detests that they mean nothing to her.” He paused. “But you have an honesty and boldness she lacks, an honesty I’ve never found in another woman.”
She might be honest, but she did not feel bold. She was beginning to tremble with the strange weakness that invaded her whenever she was in the same room with him. Last night she had sat, with hands folded in that chair by the hearth, staring at him in helpless thrall as he wove that picture of lust and depravity.
And when he had let her go to her room, the dreams had come.
Her hands were shaking again. She quickly put the panel on the table before she dropped it.
“Your cheeks are flushed. Strange. I didn’t think it was particularly warm for this time of year. It even snowed last night. Do you suppose you’re coming down with a fever?”
“No.”
“One can’t be too sure.” His gaze went to the window where long, thick icicles hung from the eaves. “This evening I think I must tell you at least one interesting cure we could try when the fever comes again.”
You’re proving remarkably resistant.” Jordan’s legs were stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. “It’s been almost a week, and neither of us has been sleeping properly.” His forefinger idly traced the design of the deep floral carving on the arm of the chair. “If we continue for another week like this, it may be quite detrimental to our health. Put an end to it, Marianna.”
His hands were beautiful, tanned, well shaped, with long, graceful fingers. Lately, she had found herself obsessed with watching his hands as they gestured or merely lay quiet on the arm of the chair.
The chair.
She wished she could forget the images it brought to mind, but they were always with her. Even if she could forget it, she thought bitterly, she now had a store of such erotic pictures. He had seen that she lived in a world where sight of the simplest object would bring memories of Jordan sitting by the fire weaving his tales of seduction.
“Why are you hesitating?” he asked softly. “You once told me that you believed as your father did that a spirit should be free. Why are you letting yourself be bound? You know what you want.”
Her breasts were swollen, her body aching. He had only to be in the same room, and the response came unbidden. God help her, she was like that mare he had described, mindless, in heat, wanting only to be mounted.
But she was not an animal.
“Why else did you come here with me?”
She whirled on him. “You know why. Alex. You forced me to come here.”
“I gave you a reason to come here.”
“No!”
“You knew Alex was not in danger.” He shook his head. “Be honest with yourself. You wanted what I wanted. The fire had been burning too long and too low for you too.” His voice thickened. “It will never end until you take what you want, Marianna.”
“It’s you who wish to take what you want.”
“Have I taken? I haven’t even touched you. I’ve merely opened the doors and let you look in and see what’s waiting for you inside.”
The doors of a room lit with all the dark, exotic colors of desire.
“Come in,” he urged softly. “You’ll like what you find.”
She shook her head.
He sighed. “I suppose it was too much to hope that even you could be that honest. Shall I give you an excuse? Come to me tonight, and in two days’ time I’ll take you to see Alex.”
She turned and looked at him. “You’ll give him back to me?”
“No, but I’ll let you assure yourself of his well-being.” He stood up and moved toward the door. “You see? You’ll be sacrificing yourself for your poor brother held by the evil duke of Cambaron. Even Dorothy could understand such a splendid act of virtue.”
