My Lady Vixen (7 page)

At the first touch of his manhood, Alexa stiffened, raising her sooty lashes to gaze appealingly into Adam’s face. His mouth was chiseled, hard granite; his narrowed eyes were sculpted marble. A tear slid down each cheek
as Alexa recalled the night she had lost her virginity to Fox. He was so tender, so gentle, nothing at all like what Adam intended now.

“Go ahead,” her voice quivered dangerously. “I’m no match for you physically. Do your worst, I won’t beg or cry for mercy. You’re a cold-blooded bastard, Adam Foxworth!”

Hearing her words and watching the play of emotion upon her face, Adam’s resolve collapsed like a house of cards. “Alexa, my sweet Alexa,” he groaned, his breath warm against her ear. “I can’t hurt you. I want to make love to you. I want to give you pleasure, not pain.”

He kissed her eyes, her nose, the rapidly beating pulse at the base of her throat, and then her lips, tenderly, thoroughly, until she lay gasping for breath. At his first touch the satiny flesh of her breasts shivered away from his lips, then rose treacherously against his mouth as her body reached to his soft words.

His touch was deliberate yet honey-smooth as his hands slid between her legs, and a moan left Alexa’s lips. His scent titillated her, a mixture of soap and the faint aroma of tobacco and a male musk that was uniquely his. When his lips nestled momentarily against the ebony fleece that shielded the treasure between her thighs her control was nearly shattered.

He entered her slowly, savoring her, pausing only a moment when he encountered no obstruction. His lips worked their own magic while he thrust deep inside her, moving upon her sensuously, stroking vigorously. Fire grew in her loins, her blood was a pulsing river of lava that ran hottest at the joining of her thighs. Amid those all-consuming sensations, Alexa’s last prickling of conscience lay buried.

A cry of joy burst forth unbidden from her parted lips. “Yes, yes …” Adam chanted in a husky voice, urging her on, coaxing her to revel in the glory of her response.
And then his own cries of completion lent her courage as they soared together upon the wings of ecstasy.

It was nearly dark when Alexa awoke, still cradled in Adam’s arms. She felt his gaze upon her and was startled to find his eyes kindled with a strange glow, searing her soul, plumbing the depths of her being.

“You think you have defeated me, milady, but you have not,” he commented coolly. “Don’t think that because I find you desirable I have changed my mind, or that you have made a conquest of me. I am only a man, with a man’s desires. And you are a beautiful, passionate woman.”

In the terrible moment of silence that followed, Alexa sought her voice but could not find it. Despite the fact that Adam had just made tender love to her his thirst for revenge remained unquenched. “I would expect no less from you,” she finally said.

“Had I known you weren’t a virgin I might have reacted differently. I thought I was claiming virgin territory but found the ground already plowed.”

“How dare you talk to me in such a disgusting manner!” Alexa ground out from between clenched teeth. “I’m glad! I’m glad you’re not the first!”

“Who was it? Charles? When I interrupted your tryst in the summerhouse I thought I arrived in time, but evidently he managed to deflower you. Or had you given yourself to him before?”

Like a match to a powder keg his words ignited her anger. “It’s none of your business!” Best to let him think what he will. Alexa decided, than to tell him it was Fox who had stolen her virginity.

“What does it matter,” Adam shrugged carelessly, “as long as the proud John Ashley believes his daughter was dishonored by a Foxworth.” His eyes darkened with an emotion Alexa could not define.

Soon afterwards Adam arose, donned his clothes and
left, only to return a short time later followed by a servant carrying a heavily laden tray. While their supper was being laid out Adam stoked up the fire and lit a lamp, for while they had been pleasantly engaged in the canopied bed, full darkness had descended.

“From now on we will take supper in your room,” Adam explained, glancing meaningfully toward the bed. “That way I won’t have so far to go to take my pleasure. A mistress should never be allowed out of bed. Especially when she is as exciting as you.” Chuckling at his own cleverness, Adam began to eat heartily, ignoring Alexa’s murderous looks in his direction.

Alexa ate in silence, fuming with impotent rage at the indignity of her position. Once she was allowed to return home all of London would know she had been the mistress of Adam Foxworth, the Earl of Penwell. What would Charles think? Would he still want her? If he loved her as much as he said, it would make no difference to him, Alexa decided guardedly.

After their supper was cleared away, Adam had thoughtfully arranged for a bath to be prepared for her. She balked when he settled himself in a chair, intending to watch her bathe, but in the end he had his way, his hooded gaze resting on her while she washed. He said nothing, barely moving a muscle until she reached for the towel and arose from the tub all rosy and glowing from the hot water. Then suddenly his muscles flexed as he lifted himself from the chair with the silent grace of a stalking tiger.

Taking the towel from her, he began to dry her dripping body, paying meticulous attention to those certain parts of her body that intrigued him the most. When he dropped the towel Alexa tried to grab her robe but Adam stayed her hand, lifting her in his arms instead and carrying her to the bed still rumpled from their earlier encounter.

“I’ve not had my fill of you, milady,” he said, smiling sardonically. “I’ve not always been so fortunate to be serviced by so desirable a mistress. During the next weeks I intend to use you well and often. Charles will probably thank me when I return you to him.”

“He’ll kill you!” spat Alexa, determined to fight against the spell he wove around her senses. “If he doesn’t, my father will!”

“They’ll have to find me first,” laughed Adam, vastly amused. “By then I’ll be far from English shores.”

“When, Adam?” Alexa asked, her eyes luminous with unshed tears. “When will you release me?”

“When I’m ready, milady, when I’m good and ready,” came his terse reply as he moved with exaggerated slowness, pulling her lissome body against the length of his.

“You don’t really want me, Adam,” Alexa contended bleakly. “Revenge is a powerful emotion. Is there room in your heart for no other emotion?”

“Leave my heart out of it, Alexa,” Adam snapped. “I give it freely to no woman. But that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy you for as long as we’re together. My thirst for revenge has no adverse affect upon my ability to perform in bed, nor does consummation require the use of my heart, only my …”

“Oh, you’re despicable,” Alexa cut him off angrily, blushing furiously.

“Aye,” he concurred amiably. “But as long as you understand you are here for one purpose only we shall get along admirably. Now, milady, if you’d be so good as to be quiet I will show you just how capable I am without the use of my heart.”

And in the end Alexa did just that as he proved to her once again that he was a consummate lover, inventive, irresistible. As he made love to her, confused images animated the corners of her mind. He became
Fox, gentle, tender, burning away all her resistance with the subtle seduction of hands and lips. But when she opened her eyes she saw only Adam, tawny-maned, silver-eyed, his face hard and inflexible. When finally his hands parted her thighs she lay quiescent, her eyes closed, every nerve and fiber concentrating on the waves of feeling sweeping over her, wild and wonderful, waiting for him to fill her. She couldn’t think, she could only respond.

When she was certain she would die of sweet wanting, he took her fiercely, ardently, driving between her thighs with ever deeper strokes until he freed them both in a burst of ecstasy that left them exhausted.

When Alexa awoke the next morning Adam was gone. And not just from her bed. The dour Hilda informed her that the master had left at daybreak without a word as to his destination or purpose. He was gone for ten days and when he returned gave not the slightest clue to where he had been. During his absence Alexa was guarded by a huge man named Curtis who told her he came from the village not far away. He seemed a simple man, albeit one blindly loyal to his master. It appeared Adam had effectively cut off all avenues of escape and until he released her she was his to do with what he liked.

Following Adam’s return to Penwell Castle he took up where he left off with Alexa, making passionate love to her nightly, most times tenderly. But there were other times he took her roughly, as if to remind her that she was nothing to him but the daughter of the man he hated above all others.

At the end of the first month in Penwell Castle, Alexa asked for her release.

“Not yet, Alexa,” he informed her coldly. “The pleasure your body affords me is still too great for me to
let you go. You’ll be sent back, milady, when I tire of you, and not before.” Then he proceeded to make love to her with a tenderness that left Alexa’s mind whirling with confusion.

Afterwards, she dared to ask, “If you hate me so much why do you make love to me with such … caring?” Her face flushed becomingly at her temerity but for some strange reason it was important that she know.

“Don’t mistake my motives. Alexa.” Adam replied sternly. “It’s your father I want to hurt, not you. You’re just the instrument of my revenge. It’s not in my nature to mistreat a woman.

“I tried. Lord knows how I tried to take you callously, without a thought for your feelings. But it went against everything I’ve ever been taught. Not even a whore deserves such treatment. If I prefer to make love to you instead of raping you, you should be grateful and not question my motives.”

“So, I’m no better than a whore!” Alexa said angrily.

“You said that, not me. What I said was …”

“I know what you said and you’re right. I am your whore.”

“Mistress is a better word.”

“It will make little difference to my father.”

“Exactly.” Adam smiled cruelly.

After that encounter Alexa struggled desperately to curb her response to the devastatingly handsome Lord Penwell. But he was an expert in the art of arousal and she could not resist his tender ministrations. In the end Alexa was the one clutching at his broad shoulders, crying out for release. Oh, yes, he was adept and experienced and Alexa considered his lovemaking more devastating than if he had physically abused her.

Sometime during the second month Adam mysteriously disppeared again, staying away nearly two weeks this time. But at least Alexa had gained a concession
from him before he left. He had agreed to allow her outside as long as the bumbling Curtis accompanied her. She readily agreed and was given the sailor garb she had worn previously, for it was obvious she couldn’t walk the wild moors clad in the fragile nightclothes Adam insisted she wear.

Alexa spent hours outside, roaming, exploring, enjoying the waning summer days out in the open. One day she came upon the secluded cove where
The Gray Ghost
had set her ashore. Inexplicably her thoughts flew to the Fox and the one night they had shared. And then a strange thing happened. In her mind the Fox and Adam became one and each tender moment she spent with Fox dimmed and faded into a single image. It was Adam’s face behind the mask but Fox’s hands and lips upon her body.

Ridiculous! she scolded herself, shaking her dark head to clear it of such confusing thoughts. It was only natural that she should confuse the only two men who had ever made love to her. No one could be as gentle and tender as Fox had been with her despite the fact that he was a pirate and enemy of England. Her romantic soul yielded to him, forgave him all, for he was a man around which dreams were spun.

Adam returned but refused to reveal to Alexa where he had been. It was now two months since she had been taken forcibly from her home and still she had no idea when her captivity would end. She couldn’t exactly say she was unhappy. She wasn’t mistreated, she was well-fed, and most of the time had Adam’s stimulating company to keep boredom at bay. During his unexplained absences the well-stocked library sufficed.

The servants were polite, if remote, and Alexa’s long walks along the moors and cliffs helped immeasurably to work, off her pent-up anger and anxiety. And of
course there was Adam’s lovemaking. She grew so accustomed to it that she actually missed him when he was gone; his strong arms, warm body, and lips and hands that drove her wild. Alexa often wondered if Adam hadn’t planned it that way. Though she tried, she couldn’t really hate him. What she despised was her growing addiction for the man, Adam Foxworth.

Adam was absent twice during Alexa’s third month at Penwell Castle deep in the wilds of Cornwall. This time when he returned his lovemaking took on a frantic quality and when she sought to question him she encountered a nearly imperceptible clouding of his features. For over two weeks his unleashed passion rose in devouring fury to consume her, as if he were driven by an urgency to prove his mastery over her. Though his eyes often told her he cared for her his lips were still.

Then abruptly one night, without warning or provocation, Adam took her without apparent emotion or any attempt to arouse her, as though she were truly nothing but a means of exacting vengeance as he had so often insisted; a vessel into which he poured out his need. The hands and lips that had always intoxicated her with their tender caresses now denied her any satisfaction. She endured it in silence, never more aware of Adam’s power over her.

Alexa awoke with a vague feeling of dread hanging over her, but blamed it on Adam’s strange behavior the night before. It was almost as if he were trying to tell her something. She pulled on a robe just as Hilda brought in her breakfast tray, but she could only push the food around the plate in a distracted manner. A hard lump formed in her throat, preventing her from swallowing.

The hard, cold facts were that Alexa was faced with a dilemma. She knew little about the workings of the human body but what little she did know all pointed to
the fact that she was pregnant. For over a week she had become queasy upon arising and she had not had her woman’s time since arriving at Penwell Castle.