She was an utter wanton in his hands. She could not stop him; she didn't want to. She could have loosened the bonds in a moment, and she didn't.

She was, in her fantasy, a slave to the inescapable pressure of his fingers on her nipples. And she would not plead for mercy until he had wrung the last drop of pleasure from her rippling body.

She craved more and still more of his ruthless touch. She felt it swelling up in her, billowing, gathering, commingling with the twisty feeling spiraling from her breasts.

She was breathless with it; she felt the sensations collide, implode, and shoot between her legs like a rocket.

She bent double with it as it burst all over her body, and he followed her down, down, down, his fingers unyielding on her nipples, and her hands grasping his penis convulsively as she slipped to the floor.

"No, no, no…" she moaned. "No more, no… oh, God oh… ohno more, please, no more"

He couldn't stand to let her go, but he heard the raw edge in her voice, and reluctantly, slowly, he removed his fingers from her breasts and pulled her roughly against him.

She felt his fingers fumbling with the restraint, and then a gentle caress as he removed the golden loops from her breasts as well.

She felt mindless, floatingmaybe she was: he lifted her easily to the bed and then he placed the golden loops on the bedside table; and without saying a word, he left her.

Evie was waiting outside the door, a tray in her hand. "She is mine," he said roughly. "Serve her. Ill see where she goes."

The second note came with her breakfast not minutes after Court exited the room.

Dear Godshe hadn't any time to luxuriate, to think, to plan…

My dearest, darling Pet…

Oh, God, how could he? Why couldn't he have just understood by her not responding to his previous note that they could never have a future together?

And nowoh, nowhe wanted her tomeet him?

Of course he didn't know that she had no clothes, that Court was keeping her a sexual captive, that today she had totally become his carnal slave.

This was impossible!

Court should see him; Court should be the one to tell him…

Tell him what? Tell him about all the games they had played? About the thrall collar and the harness and the restraints. And how willing, how wanton she wasreally?

And how all thoughts of Gerard had evaporated once she had experienced the voluptuous satiation of his masterful coupling with her?

And to top it off, she thought mordantly, Court could reveal the secret of her lusty nipples, and how she exploded with pleasure when he squeezed them while she watched him play with her in the mirror.

Yes, Gerard would love knowing about all these things he could never have. She had been a fool to encourage him in the first place. Everwhen she had known that her father's folly would be the deciding factor of who she would marry.

What am I going to do? What? How could he do this to me?

Why couldn't he have just gone away?

Why? Why! Because four days ago, you still loved him. Four days ago, Court had not adorned your nipples with gold. Four days ago, you knew nothing about the whims, the power, and the carnality of men.

And now you know… and you've chosen, and you must be fair and tell Gerard face-to-face, just as he entreats you to.

How? Wearing what? My thrall collar…? My golden loops around my nipples…?

She couldn't bear to sit still. She paced around the room agitatedly, trying to make some sense of things, trying to figure out a way to avoid it altogether.

Gerard wanted to meet with her tonight. He wanted to hear from her own lips that she wanted him no moretonight.

Which meant that somehow she had to find a wrapper or dress to cover her nakedness and sneak down to the arbor after the moon rose.

Elude Courtat nightwhen every carnal impulse was in play… including her own…?

The gods were crazy; there was no way she could accomplish it.

Even if Evie were to help her.

She had to get rid of Gerard. He was perfectly capable of continuing his onslaught of notes and pleas. And always in his gentle, but determined way. He'd never stop, ifshe did not put a stop to it.

And, in fact, it was entirely possible that he would continue to hang around, hoping against hope that she would leave Court.

But that was impossible now. Not after tonight. Not after the ferocious pleasure she had experienced at his hands.

She would meet Gerardsomehow

She pulled open the armoire door and almost fell forward in her astonishment.Changes. There were dresses hanging in the armoire.

She didn't even know if she remembered how to wear one.

She would wear one tonight. Just for a few short moments, tonight. And then she'd never have to get dressed ever again.

Midnight. The house was quiet, too quiet, she thought; Court had been gone all day, conferring with his overseer at Oak Bluffs.

It was time to get back to business, he'd said, and maybe she was glad, at least today, that he felt that way.

He'd be staying overnight, Evie told her. And maybe that was a good thing, because she needed that time; she had to make Gerard understand: she belonged to Court, and she wanted everything Court chose to give her.

She wondered to what extreme she would have to go to convince Gerard of that. He was not a man who was easily brushed off. He had been very persistent in his wooing of her, and now, in his pursuit, in spite of the fact that she was married.

She might well have to use every weapon at hand: the way she dressed, what she said, and how much she would admit about how far she had gone…

How far…

The thrall collar hung on a hook in the armoire. She took it down thoughtfully.Too far?

She stepped through the straps and pulled them up slowly. Under the right dress, it wouldn't show. And it would keep her on course, reminding her that Court owned her body, and that she was hiswilling sexual slave.

She fastened the collar around her throat, her heart pounding with a kind of heady fusion of fear and arousal.

She found a muslin dress with a high pleated collar and short, puffed sleeves that she could wear with one crinoline. The skirt looked deflated, and the hem dragged on the ground, but that was of small consequence to the purpose. It concealed the collar and her rising excitement. She wore nothing else beneath the dress but a pair of kid boots that would do for a moonlight walk, and she was ready.

And she was hot, suffocating with the brazenness of what she was about to do. Thank God Court wasn't home.

This was so risky. Court would kill her if he found out. He'd kill Gerard.

Stupid. She shouldn't even go.

Let Gerard hang. If she didn't show up, he would have to understand that this was the end of their… friendship.

Or maybe he wouldn't. He didn't read her lack of response correctly the first time.

Oh, damn, oh, damn. She didn't want to ever see Gerard Lenoir again.

What would it take? An investment of twenty minutes, perhaps, to tell him clearly that he could not entertain any fantasy that she would leave Court and come to him.

Twenty minutes, maybe less, to impart her message to Gerard and get back to the house. Court would never have to know.

But only… if… she left…

… now…

The moon, so bright it was as though she were carrying a torch, lighted her way through the trees, down the rear carriage drive, past thegarconniére, the smokehouse, the kitchen, and the vegetable gardens, every path carefully laid out as if someone had planned for lovers to trod this way.

No, not lovers. They'd never been lovers, she and Gerard. They'd been dreamers. And every conversation, every plan they formulated had been the insupportable fantasy of two lonely souls looking for escape.

That was the unpalatable reality she had to tell him, along with the fact that she reveled in her death-do-us-part coupling with the domineering and possessive Court Summerville.

Hard truths he would not want to hear.

But he had promised, if she met him, he would go away.

Her heart started pounding as she skirted the vegetable gardens and paused at the entrance to the arbor. It was laid out between the gardens and the stables and there were a half dozen paths to enter it on three sides, and it was so dark within, the moonlight just filtering through the vines.

Somewhere in there, Gerard waited.

She called to him softly; there was only a thick silence and the hoot of an owl in response.

This is too stupid. He's not here. He's playing a stupid game. He didn't come. I hope he didn't come. I prayhe didn't come…

Something grabbed her and she shrieked; a hand clamped over her mouth and a hard male body pulled her under the cover and fecund smell of the leaves and vines.

"Shhh…"

Gerard…! Damn! Her heart was pounding so hard, she thought she would die.

He spoke in a whisper, hissing in her ear, "Can I let you go?"

She nodded, and he relinquished his grip on her mouth.

"You came."

"Let go of me."

"I can't. Ican't, God help me," he breathed, and she felt, in the weight of his arm around her midriff, the weight of his suppressed passion. And she didn't know how she was going to manage him.

"You have to," she hissed. "I belong to Court now. It's irrevocable. I can't change it. And listen to me, GerardI don't want to."

He ignored her. She couldn't believe it. He just chose not to hear the words with which she committed herself to Court.