Emerald Ecstasy (18 page)

Lianne never denied him, but he sensed she didn't wish to be in his arms, didn't enjoy the act. Of course, women shouldn't enjoy lovemaking as much as men. He didn't think that was in their nature. However, he no longer found the intense pleasure he craved. So, the trip to New Orleans and to Chloe's soft, willing body. Under no circumstances would he allow Lianne to accompany him.

“Thank you for your reassurance,
chérie.”
He bent and kissed her cheek. “I'll send Madame Dupre to you. She is by far the best dressmaker in New Orleans, and I'm sure will design a gorgeous costume for the ball, and clothes for the child,” he said as an afterthought. He'd never get used to having another man's offspring around.

Lianne knew when she was defeated. Shortly after Philippe left her, she got out of bed and rang for a servant who helped her dress. After checking on the baby and Maria, she headed downstairs and to Philippe's library where she found paper and pen and began to sketch designs for her costume.

She knew Philippe wanted the Mardi Gras Ball to be a success. This was the first ball to be held at Belle Riviere since his parents died, and she knew, also, that he wished to show her off to his wealthy friends from New Orleans. Sometimes she felt like a possession put on display for company. Many times during the past few weeks, friends of Philippe visited. He only permitted her to pay her respects to them as he basked in their compliments concerning her beauty, then he kissed her with a warm but dismissive kiss.

The nights, however, were worse. She tried to respond to him and knew his surliness at times was because he guessed she didn't love him. And she didn't. She cared about him, but she wasn't in love with her husband. Her thoughts centered on Daniel, a man she loved, a man she needed. But a man who would never be free.

Growing disenchanted with her sketches, she threw them aside just as she heard the clip clop of horse's hooves on the drive. She stood up and looked out of the window to see Daniel dismounting.

With an unconscious gesture, she fluffed out her hair and straightened her shoulders and hoped her smile looked genuinely happy. She'd rather die than let him think she had married the wrong man.

A servant admitted Daniel to the study. His eyes slid over her in an appraising manner. “You're looking well, Lianne.”

“So are you,” she said and wished her heart would stop beating so hard. Daniel looked better than well. His face appeared less haggard, his eyes a bright gray. The brown of his coat and pants enhanced the tanned complexion but the clothes appeared slightly rumpled, as if he had thrown them on his large masculine frame in haste. Still, he appeared devastatingly handsome to her eyes, and it was his rakish persona which appealed to her.

“How is Philippe?” he asked.

“How is Amelie?” she countered.

He shrugged. “Amelie is Amelie. But I'm not here to discuss her. I'm here to paint you and Désirée.”

“I don't recall commissioning a portrait,” she said slowly.

“You didn't. If you recall I told you I was going to paint the two of you.”

“What if I don't want you to paint us? Philippe might object.” Philippe wasn't the reason she demurred. She couldn't bear having Daniel so close to her.

“I'm sure you can make Philippe do whatever you want him to do, Lianne.”

“You overestimate my charms, I fear.”

“Do I?” He came closer to her, close enough that he could smell her distinctive female scent mingled with rose water. He ached for her mouth, and he would have pulled her to him and kissed her except she turned her head.

“Now isn't the right time for a portrait, Daniel. The idea is very nice, but Philippe isn't home, and I don't think he'd be too pleased.”

The mention of Philippe again cooled his ardor. He backed off a bit. “Let me do a quick sketch of you and the child. It won't take long.”

Lianne gazed into his eyes then, and knew she'd allow him his way. Though she knew she should send him home with a polite but firm refusal, she couldn't. She wanted to see him for as long as possible despite his cruel words a month past. Philippe was gone and wouldn't be home for a few weeks. He'd never have to know Daniel had even been there.

“All right, Daniel,” she said and was immediately rewarded with a brilliant smile.

He left the study and retraced his steps to his horse. Then he was back inside with sketch pad and charcoal. “Get the child,” he ordered.

Lianne took Désirée from under Maria's watchful gaze. “Monsieur Philippe won't approve.” Maria voiced her concern after Lianne had told her the reason for Daniel's visit.

“It's just a sketch. Philippe shouldn't mind. After all, Philippe and Daniel are related.”

“And very possessive of you. Remember how nasty Monsieur Philippe became in the carriage that time. I think it was wrong for me to encourage you to marry him. I'm afraid I misjudged him.”

“Maria,” Lianne scooped up the baby, and her eyes flashed, “my husband has never done anything to warrant such criticism. You're as bad as Dera lately.”

Maria sniffed. “You should have listened to her. She knows him better than you.”

As Lianne settled herself and the baby in the appointed place by Daniel, she found it difficult to dismiss Maria's warning. Prickles of fear gathered and raised on her skin. She did wonder at times if Philippe would harm her, but he loved her. So, she convinced herself he'd never hurt her.

Daniel turned her face and tilted her chin a bit after she had quieted Désirée with a trinket.

“You have the most beautiful face of any woman I've ever seen,” he said softly.

An ache started in her throat. “Daniel, please.”

His fingers moved gently over her auburn tresses. “Your hair looks like an autumn sunset and smells like spring flowers.”

“Stop this nonsense or I must insist you leave!” She didn't mean to sound so harsh, but his caressing eyes, hands, disturbed her. She remembered the night in the summerhouse and trembled.

Daniel blinked and came to his senses. “I forget myself, Madame Marchand. Forgive me.” He picked up his sketch pad and sat across from her.

Sudden clouds darkened the parlor, and he ordered a servant to light the candles. Then a winter rainstorm broke from the heavens and besieged the house with gales of rain and wind. The warm glow from the fireplace dispelled the gloom.

Désirée started to fuss, and Lianne knew their posing time was at an end. “She's tired, Daniel.”

He looked up from his pad, suddenly aware of his surroundings. “Yes, of course. I got so involved, I didn't realize.”

She rang for Maria who took the baby. “It's nearly lunchtime,” she said to Daniel.

“Is that an invitation?”

Lianne couldn't turn him out in such a rainstorm, so she nodded and ordered the cook to set two places at the table. “Are you always so involved when you draw?” she asked him over soup a little while later.

“Yes.”

“May I see your sketches?”

He considered. “Perhaps later. I make it a habit never to show anyone what I've done until it's finished.”

They had their coffee in the parlor. Daniel laced his with whiskey, and he didn't miss the way her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Don't approve, Lianne?”

“You drink too much. I don't think it's good for you.”

Laughing, he shook his head. “I'm beginning to find that nothing pleasurable in life is good for me. However, I still indulge.” He offered her a sip which she drank but began to cough as the burning liquid slid down her throat.

“I think you're slightly degenerate to enjoy such a drink,” she said after she recovered.

He sat close to her on the sofa. “I am, Lianne. If you knew what was good for you, you'd run upstairs this minute and bolt your door.”

She turned to him. Her eyes looked like a mysterious feline's in the fire's glow. “I'm not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” he whispered and twisted a long copper curl around his finger.

“Why?” She could barely breathe, barely speak.

“Because of this.”

His lips moved over hers, tasting of their sweetness. She moaned. How wonderful it felt to be kissed by this man, to feel her whole body start to come alive. But this couldn't happen, wouldn't happen. She was married to Philippe and must remember that.

“No, Daniel.” She attempted to push away, but he clasped her wrists. His eyes sparkled with ferocity.

“Don't deny me, Lianne. You know you want me. Want me as much as I want you!”

She couldn't deny this, and when his lips plundered hers in a greedy kiss, she didn't want to. The warmth of love flowed through her veins like a golden liquid which entered every artery and fused her body to his. She matched him kiss for kiss, touch for touch.

His mouth trailed to the valley between her breasts, setting her on fire, and she knew the inevitable would happen. She did want him and she'd have him, if only for a few stolen moments.

“I love you, Lianne. I'll always love you.”

Daniel's breath was a husky whisper. She knew he would never leave Amelie, but she didn't care at the moment. She loved him, too.

Bittersweet tears slid down her face. Her slender fingers traced the broadness of his back. “If only things were different.”

“Shh, love. Don't think about what might have been or could be. At this second, I don't want to think. I only want to feel your flesh against mine.”

He unbuttoned the buttons on the front of her bodice until her breasts spilled forth into his hands. As he laved each one with his tongue, the flame within her spread like shafts of fire. He lifted his head, and if she had wanted to deny him, she couldn't have. The desire on his face was thicker than the pelting rain outside.

Helping him out of his jacket, she then unbuttoned his shirt. Her hands slid across the muscled contours of his chest. “You're such a beautiful man,” she said and planted tiny kisses on his flesh.

“You're the beautiful one, my sweet.”

He pulled her against him and started to hike her skirts. A part of her knew how disgusting this all was. Here they were in the parlor and she was ready, eager, to be taken on the sofa like some strumpet. But Daniel made her feel things, do things, no other man was capable of. She didn't care about propriety but she did vaguely wonder if she should have locked the door, and she voiced this to Daniel in between earth-shattering kisses.

“The servants won't enter without knocking first, Lianne.”

She forgot her fear of discovery as Daniel's hands ran over her breasts and down her thighs. His kisses inflamed her, drugging her beyond caring, and hurling her into a vortex of passion she'd never known.

From the front of the house she heard a door slam and the far-off sound of cursing.

“Damn this infernal weather!”

She tried to push Daniel aside and would have bolted from his arms except he held her in a vise-like grip.

“It's Philippe!” she cried.

“Let me go!” Lianne wiggled free from Daniel's restraining arms. Hurriedly she buttoned her bodice and shook out her skirt. She urged Daniel to make himself presentable, but he grinned and drove her mad as he put himself back in order in a lazy fashion, as if he had all the time in the world.

“Hurry!” she ordered.

By the time Philippe entered the parlor, Lianne and Daniel presented a respectable picture. She sat demurely on the couch and sipped her tea, which had grown quite cold, and he finished another whiskey.

“I wondered whose horse that was outside,” Philippe said and extended his hand to Daniel.

“I decided to pay my respects,” Daniel told him and shook his hand, “but Lianne said you weren't home.”

Lianne felt amazement at Daniel's calmness. Inside she shook and had to put down the teacup which rattled in her hand. She hoped her dress wasn't wrinkled and that her hair was smooth. Most of all she wondered if her lips looked as swollen as they felt. Was her guilt showing on her face for Philippe to see?

“I thought you were headed into New Orleans.” Lianne folded her hands in her lap.

Philippe nodded. “The rain washed out the road. I didn't wish to take a chance with the carriage and horses. Nothing's worse than being stuck in ankle-deep mud. So, I ordered the driver to turn around. You're not unhappy to see me so soon, are you,
chérie?”

She smiled but evaded his question as she stood up. “I'll go get you a nice warm cup of tea.”

“Don't bother. What I really want is a warm bath. I'm chilled to the bone. Come join me, Lianne.”

She flushed from her toes to the roots of her hair. Philippe wasn't asking her but telling her to bathe with him. She knew better than to protest in Daniel's presence.