Thea Devine - Captivated

Respectable.

… now she understood…

That was all a woman could ever hope for… and nothing had changed in a thousand years.

She lifted her chin. "The whole of St. Faubonne Parish knows what avigorous man Court is."

"Now, now, Drue. A lady never listens to gossip. And you are now his foremost advocate. Never forget, my dear. No matter what, he's your husband, right or wrong." Her father's gaze skewed to where Court was standing, talking business with the gentlemen of the parish.

Myhusband, oh, my Godmy husband…

All wrong…

She wanted to run. Oh, God, she just wanted to drop everything and flee and let her father take responsibility for his own weakness, his own stupidity.

But there was no escaping Court. He was as inevitable as the sun, aware at every moment where she was, andshe thought, panickedwhat she was thinking.

Don't move, his impassive gaze seemed to say.Not a move without me. You're mine now to do with what I will.

Her father moved toward Court, toward the knot of men who were the most influential in the parish, and she felt as if her anchor were gone. He just floated away from her, drawn by the business of men, drawn by Court, who was as magnetic as iron.

And just as hard. There was no mistaking that look. The minute her father joined the group, Court broke away and headed toward her.

And sheshe just stood rooted to the spot, waiting for him.Her husband… the word stuck on her tongue.

Her legs felt like jelly. She knew her face was pale and her hands were shaking.

"So beautiful, my love," Court murmured as he held out his hand.

She had no choice but to take it. He could take everything from her father in an instant. The least she could do was take his hand.

Together, they walked into the crowd as rose petals rained on them, the signal that it was time to go.

Oh, God sosoon…?

Their carriage drew up in front of the church, driven by Isaac, who was dressed as formally as Court.

Her legs wobbled.Time to go. Time to fulfill every promise. Time is up. Time, her enemy.

Court helped her into the carriage and climbed in after her; Isaac snapped the reins and they were off, circling around the church drive, past the gardens and the trees in the distance.

She turned around to look at the receding crowd of well-wishers waving them home, and it was then she saw itthe figure moving restively in the shadow of the trees, recognizable by the bend of his body, the agitation of his movements.

Gerard had come; dear Lord, Gerardhad come. He'd been with her from afar, suffering with her, for her, as helpless, as devastated, as she.

Oh, Gerard… my lovethank, you, my love…

He'd come. He'd watched. He'd agonized. He hadn't let her go through it alone.

Sobeautiful… sotreacherous

That bastard, skulking in the bushes… as if he could have missed it. As if Gerard Lenoir had wantedhim to miss itor Drue's reaction.

Tears.

Damn him. Goddamn tears…

He was seething as the carriage bowled onto the River Road toward Wildwood, cutting through heat as thick as cotton.

It wasn't worth it. Goddamn… he had made the biggest mistake of his life, saddling himself with a vice-ridden father-in-law, an encumbered plantation, and a woman who bated him.

Stupidfor the first time in his life, his greed and a moment of rare opportunity had gotten the better of his common sense.

Or had he ever had common sense where Oak Bluffs was concerned? He'd watched for years as Victor Caledon ran it into the ground while he pursued the passion and promise of the gaming wheels inNew Orleans.

And Drue, standing by, defending him, watching her mother work herself to death, and knowing not the half of her father's corrupt nature.

Drue…

When had he first become really awareof Drue?

But he knewwhen Gerard Lenoir had begun to pursue heras the direct proportion of money her father owed him increased.

Drue was to have been Gerard's payoff. And Oak Bluffs was to have been his by virtue of his marrying Drue.

But Gerard had been too busy seducing Drue to be aware that Victor Caledon would never, ever sanction the union. Gerard Lenoir would never step foot on Oak Bluffseven as a guest.

So Victor had come to him,and offered him Oak Bluffsand Druein exchange for the partnership and a face-saving perversion of the truth: that Court was Victor's creditor, and that Drue and a stake in Oak Bluffs could satisfy every debt, every lien, every loan… every lie.

And Drue was never, never to know that Gerard was the one to whom her father had owed that vast sum of money.

And so a man got ensnared. Court had dearly wanted Oak Bluffs. And, shockingly, once he made the bargain, he found he wanted Drue as well. And that was something he hadn't planned on.

Or was she all the more desirable because she wanted another man?

Or was it because he didn't want Lenoir to have her?

He slanted a glance at her pensive profile under the parasol Isaac had provided her to ward off the sun.

She stared straight ahead, as if keeping her gaze rooted would repulse other things. Real things. Him.

She was so beautiful, with her long black hair that Edme had braided into a coronet to support her veil. She looked regal. She looked as if she were going to meet her fate.

She had lifted her chin, a defiant little gesture, to combat the luster of the tears drenching her blue eyes. She would not cry. Shewouldn't.

She bit her lips, perfect soft lips; he wanted to kiss them right there, right then, to make up for the kisses he didn't bestow when he took her to be his wife.

But she wasn't thinking about Court Summerville. All of her energy, her desire was focused on Gerard Lenoir. Her tears were for Gerard, and her kisses. And her body, sacrificed on the altar of duty tohim, would have been Lenoir's as well, if he hadn't poured a hundred thousand dollars into Lenoir's pocket to save Victor Caledon's reputation and prestige.

Court felt a tremor of pure fury. Drue was his now. He'd bought her, he'd laid out the terms so there would be no misunderstandings, and, by God, she'd agreed. She washis, all of her, her body, her mind, her soul, and she had no business pining for Gerard not a half hour after the wedding.

His jaw tightened. Before this night was out, he thought, he would hold her to the bargain. And he would do it without force and without recourse to the baser nature of man.

He was going to make her want him. He was going to arouse her to a fever pitch until she understood what it meant to be consumed by desire.

He had all the time in the world, he thought. It would be like taming a wild animal. You did it slowly, by increments, showing, playing, stroking, rewarding, until it trusted you.

And thenoh, and then… it would do anything you wanted.

Anything.

His body quickened as he savored the thought.

Everything…

He thought of a hundred things in that instant that would encompasseverything and his body responded accordingly, raw, hard,there.

Yes… he would subjugate the little fawn, and he wouldn't rest until he wiped Gerard Lenoir from her memory and made her beg for his lust, his sex, his love, him.

Wildwood!

The beautiful moss-draped, tree-lined drive at the end of which was the house, white columned, stately, four-square, and, as the carriage drew closer and closer, huge.

Nothing like the comfortable, manageable house at Oak Bluffs.

She could get lost there, swallowed up.

She felt as if Court had devoured her already.

She couldn't bear to look at him. Or to think what came next.

No, she knew what came next: the discharge of her father's debt, her body, her will, her future as the payoff.

She suppressed a shudder.

Gerard… oh, Gerard The ache almost consumed her.

Ican't think about Gerard, if I think about Gerard, I'll I'llnever be able to…

… to

oh, my God… to…

Her body went cold. The carriage quivered to a stop in front of the broad front steps.

Immediately the butler emerged from the house through the etched glass double doors, followed by a half dozen servants who lined up on the veranda and down the steps in order of precedence.

Isaac came around and put a cushioned step under her foot, and Court gravely helped her down.

"This is Joseph," he said, indicating the butler. "Mary. Evie. Lucy. Charles. Louisa."

She nodded in turn to each of them, and then, lifting her skirts, she mounted the steps and he guided her into the reception hall.

Grand. Too grand for her. It was overwhelming, with ceilings that had to be fifteen feet high at least and a swooping staircase rising up to her right, all the way to heaven. There were sofas and console tables lining the walls and gilt-framed paintings that glowed in the soft light of the chandelier that was lit for the occasion.

She stepped hesitantly onto the first of three Oriental rugs that were scattered on the parquet floor, noting the beautifully molded arches that led off to the downstairs rooms, the doors of which were just tantalizingly ajar.

Home.

My home. Now.

… oh, God

She was aware of everything: the weight of her dress as she walked farther into the hallway and it tailed out behind her. The silence. The scent. A different scent than at Oak Bluffs. The grandeur.