In the shadows just beyond the arbor, he stood and watched. He heard the voices, heated with passion, though he could not make out distinctly what they said.
It didn't matter. What mattered was what he knew: that all the sexual heat and pleasure in the world could not keep his wife from her former lover.
He didn't think she would want to leave him, even for Lenoir. She had it too good. He'd made a huge mistake there, giving in to her body, giving her all the sex she could handle.
Hell. She could probably do them both: Lenoir at midnight in the arbor, and him whenever he wanted during the day.
Those voices were so passionate. They were arguing about the circumstances. Lenoir probably still wanted her to go. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them both and she was probably trying to reason with him, to tell him she had enough juice for them both. All Lenoir had to do was agree to her terms.
By God… nobody knew better than
Over his dead body.
Over Lenoir's.
If that bastard touched her… if he tried to penetrate her
He watched as Lenoir grabbed her and she came willingly into his arms and reached for his hot kisses… watched her body undulate against Lenoir's, seeking his heat, his hardness…
He wheeled away from the ugly scene and lifted his arm.
It was time to end the farce.
She couldn't stand him, his touch, his kisses, the feel of his body pressing against her.
His rage made him strong, his passion drove him. He grasped the collar of her dress and ripped it away from her neck and down to her breasts. 'You bitch, you bitch'
He reached for her throat. 'Jesus shit… what's this?'
'I have to wear it, every day, everywhere,' she whispered. 'He made me, but now… now I revel in it. He owns me…'
He howledit was the only word for it, and he wrenched the material of her dress all the way down to the hem…
And a shot rang out.
He froze. 'I could kill you…'
A new voiceher
'Pull up your dress, you little tart.'
Drue hurriedly gathered the folds of material to her breast as her father appeared at the opposite end of the arbor.
'How cozy,' he said. 'You and Lenoir forever, eh, Drue.'
'No,' she protested. 'No.'
'Looks like it to me. Court's home, by the way. Got done with business
Drue's heart dropped to her stomach. 'What are
'I want to get rid of a pestilence that could ruin my garden.'
'Go to hell,' Gerard growled.
'I think you're there already,' Victor said. 'You got your money. Get the hell out of town. Drue…'
That registered. 'What do you mean, he got his money?' she asked, turning toward Victor.
'Let me have the pleasure of telling her, Victor. Seeing as how we're airing all our dirty secrets tonight,' Gerard said nastily. 'Or do you still not want her to know?'
Or her.
'Tell her,' Victor said.
'I was the one to whom your father owed all that money,' Gerard said maliciously. 'Me.
' Not Court,' Victor amplified.
'No! No…' She shook her head as she backed awayfrom her father and his perfidious lies, from Gerard and his heinous plans.
'Summerville saved your ass,' Gerard said.
'And kicked yours all to hell,' Victor interpolated smugly. 'Killed your plans. Destroyed everything you worked for. Got the girl and the plantation, too. Couldn't have asked for a happier ending.'
'Until you get your hands on the cards again,' Gerard spat. 'Until the idea of fast money lures you out of hiding and Lady Luck seduces you all over again. And she will, because you, my friend, are a goddamned sucker.'
She backed out of the arbor blindly.
'No,' Victor taunted. 'You're the dupe, believing I would let you come within inches of Drue, would let you step one foot on Oak Bluffs. You gull. You butt. You goat.'
'You son of a bitch!' Gerard roared.
'You bastard' Victor goaded, his voice taut, controlled.
She heard a scuffling, a thump, as if Gerard catapulted himself at her father. And then a shot into the echoing silence that reverberated all over Wildwood.
All inside her.
She didn't want to see. She didn't want to know.
She hoped they'd killed each other.
Pulling the shreds of her dress around her, she turned and ran.
chapter 9
Court had removed himself from her completely. She hadn't seen him for days after the incident in the arbor and she was feeling very irritable.
At first, she hadn't wanted to see him, not after that night. Not after her father had wounded Gerard so seriously. He lay recuperating even now in the surgery of a Dr. Boulois of St. Faubonne, and according to her