The Claiming (16 page)

He began with a slow, rhythmic plunge and retreat of his tongue that sent a higher level of heat surging through her. When she responded by pressing herself more tightly against him, moving restlessly in an effort to get closer still, he increased the tempo of his kiss.

It was a wild, seductive rhythm that awoke a spark of response deep within her, a deep yearning for his complete possession. With desperate longing, Jana touched her tongue to his, surrendering completely to his mastery, reveling in it.

As if it were a signal he'd been awaiting, he changed the tempo of his kiss once more, slowing and finally withdrawing altogether. His withdrawal left her feeling curiously close to tears and when he withdrew his mouth as well, she felt bereft, lost, defeated. For long moments, she couldn't bring herself to speak or even to open her eyes.

Alain gazed down at her soft, trembling lips, swollen and flushed with his kiss. Fully as shaken as she by the power of their kiss, he wanted her with an intensity that was painful. Anger surged through him quite suddenly, that she was so determined to keep him at a distance when even now he couldn't be entirely certain that she'd kept others equally distant.

When he spoke, his voice was raw and throbbing, almost angrily accusing. "Did the others make you feel like that? Tell me it means nothing when I kiss you! Do you think I can't tell that you want me, too?"

Jana stared up at him with dawning horror. Tears filled her eyes, blinding her as she realized she’d been betrayed by her own body into offering mindless surrender when it was the last thing she wanted. "No! It would be the same with anyone who … who….”

The anger that leapt into his eyes was frightening. "You may experiment with me as much as you please, but you'll play your games with no one else!" he growled angrily. "You are mine and I have no intention of sharing you with anyone else."

She stared at him, feeling a thrill of pleasure at his words despite his anger. Something inside her responded to his declaration—the need to be his and his alone, but she could not keep reality at bay.

“You are wrong. I am not yours,” Jana said despairingly. Whirling away from him, she fled.

***

Upon her return to the house, Jana retreated to her room. Bolting the door, she climbed fully clothed into the middle of her bed and pulled her knees up. Hugging them to her, she rocked back and forth, unable to think for the scene near the creek that kept playing in her mind over and over. She found that she was shivering, could not seem to stop shaking. Tears seeped non stop from her eyes, dampening her cheeks and the bodice of her dress, but did nothing to ease the ache in her chest.

After a time, she crawled beneath the covers, trying to make some sense of her disordered thoughts. Foremost, she finally realized, was a sorrow so vast that it seemed like a yawning hole that would swallow her up in darkness. Alain had been right. She had never experienced anything even remotely like those feelings he had stirred inside her. She had wanted him to possess her, but it was far more than that. The moment he had said ‘you are mine’ she had realized that she wanted to belong to him in the sense that he meant the words. Almost immediately, she’d realized that she didn’t and never would.

He believed she was his contracted companion. She had deceived him into believing it. He would hate her when he discovered what she’d done. He would have nothing but contempt for her when he found that she had escaped from Marty’s House of a Thousand Courtesans where men had paid for her sexual favors.

There had never been any chance for happiness for her here. She had deluded herself when she’d allowed herself to think that.

It occurred to her after a while that she should have confessed long ago. Perhaps, if she had done so in the beginning, she might have had some chance of convincing Alain to keep her … perhaps not. She would never know now, but she could not allow this to go on any longer.

She had almost given herself up to him down by the creek, beckoned by the power of his kiss. She could not trust her powers of resistance. She had none. And as angry and disgusted as Alain was liable to be if she confessed now, it would be far worse if she allowed him to find out by taking her into his bed.

She desperately wished her friend, Val-risa had found some way to arrange passage for her. She could have simply disappeared then, without having to confess, without having to face Alain’s condemnation. But, more than a week had passed and she’d heard nothing. Even if Val-risa managed to make arrangements, it could be weeks or months before a ship came that could carry her away.

She was fairly certain that Alain would discover her deception long before then.

Oddly, she felt better once she’d made the decision. She was still frightened of Alain’s reaction, still afraid of what the consequences would almost certainly be, but she felt strangely relieved, too.

She rose finally, discarded her crumpled dress and bathed her face, then carefully selected fresh clothing and began to dress herself. When she was dressed, she sat down at the dressing table in front of the mirror and began to comb the tangles from her still damp hair. The face that looked back at her, she realized when she was done, did not even seem like her own.

When she had first come to Orleans, she had felt awkward and uncomfortable at the role she’d found herself playing, despite the fact that in her life before she had often been required to pretend that she was someone else. Sometime, though, in the weeks she’d been on Orleans, she had stopped playing her role and become it. How could she adapt to being Jana, the virgin courtesan, again when she felt like Jana of Orleans?

She shook the thought off. Marty would almost certainly have her re-conditioned. Once he had, she would not even remember Orleans … would not remember Alain, or Blane, or the infants. It made her heart ache to think it, but she knew it would be for the best. She could not hurt if she didn’t remember.

As relieved as she felt about confessing, she found she was not ready to search Alain out immediately. When she left her room, she decided to go and visit the infants. She’d become fond of them. Being with them always made her feel good, for they always seemed to be glad to see her. They accepted her without any suspicions.

On impulse, she decided to take them for an outing. It was a pretty day, and she felt a need to be away from the house. Summoning the maids, she packed infants and blankets out to the orchard, settling under a shade tree.

It was thus that Alain found her some time later, drawn by the musical sound of her laughter. The laughter, he saw, had been provoked by the twins, who gamboled about the blanket like playful, chubby puppies.

He paused, watching her. As if she sensed his presence, she glanced up, smiling, and he was at once charmed and surprised at the welcome it seemed to convey, particularly after their earlier encounter. In the next moment, it seemed she, too, recalled the episode, for her smile quivered and faded and a wary look entered her eyes. She glanced away nervously, her eyes focused beyond him. "Lill has come to collect the infants."

Alain studied her a moment in silence and finally offered his hand to assist her to her feet. "In that case," he said, "I believe we can find a more private place to talk."

***

Alain felt a strong sense of dejavu as Jana perched on the edge of her chair and cast a wishful glance toward his study door. He was resolved, however, that she would not come off the victor in this skirmish. He fully intended to have some answers this time.

With that in mind, he removed himself from the vicinity of temptation, settling in the chair behind his desk and studying Jana across the gleaming mahogany top. He still had far too many unanswered questions about Jana to simply allow the matter to drop. There were entirely too many unpleasant possibilities that might explain her behavior. To simply ignore it might bring Jana to the mistaken impression that she had only to smile and offer up a few kisses to wrap him around her little finger. And there was no telling to what lengths that might lead her.

He leaned back in his chair, assuming a posture of calm, though he felt far from relaxed as he lifted a letter knife from his desk and began to finger it idly. He knew he would have to pick his way carefully if he wasn't to come up against the blank wall of Jana's remarkably determined efforts to remain an enigma.

"There are a number of things ... perhaps I should say inconsistencies, about you, Jana, that have been plaguing me for some time," he began, regarding her thoughtfully.

Jana, who'd been examining her hands studiously, glanced up quickly. Her heart bounded from her breast and lodged in her throat. He knows, she thought in sudden panic. Had he known it for some time or just guessed it? she wondered wildly, too panicked to set her thoughts in any semblance of order and quite unable to decide whether she should burst out with her confession or simply wait and allow the ax to fall. Cravenly, she decided on the latter course. "In ... inconsistencies?" she asked cautiously.

He arched one dark brow and sat forward, dropping the letter knife on the desk and picking up a sheet of paper. He scanned it briefly then set it aside and sat back once more. "When I arrived home, I had cut short a business trip and come straight here for the express purpose of discovering what was going on here. I'm still not entirely certain, but I do know that all is not as it seems on the surface.”

Jana stared at him in consternation. He was going to rehash everything she’d done since her arrival? If he did, he was bound to work himself into a towering rage. Maybe it would be best, after all, to cut to the quick and confess?

"It's of no consequence now, but I suppose they were drawn by the announcement in the papers. Neighbors being what they are, doubtless they were curious enough to wish to investigate, probably in hopes of discovering a scandal.”

Jana turned deathly pale, staring at him in wide-eyed horror. "Announcement?" she asked faintly, having some difficulty in grasping the awful implications. When, she wondered, had this been done? Was it that that had alerted Marty? She shook that off, realizing that could not have been the case or Marty would have found her long since. Regardless, the announcement had been made. Everyone, at least in the area, knew of it. If Marty was making any inquiries locally, it was only sheer luck that he had not already found her. She had to suppose it was the slowness and limitations of primitive communications that had delayed him even this long.

Alain's brows snapped together as he sat forward in his chair. "The announcement of our marriage."

Jana's hand crept to her throat. She felt as if she were choking, as if her heart had leapt into her throat, and refused to be dislodged. She felt distinctly ill, realizing that she should never have allowed her deception to go on so long. She had not even considered what it must be like for Alain when the truth came out. She had not thought beyond herself, her own fears. But it had been announced. There would not be a handful of neighbors he must face, lie to to save himself from embarrassment. Everyone would know! And, if …when she suddenly disappeared, he would be left to explain. "Oh no! Ohh, this is ... is dreadful! Mr. Camar, I'm not....!"

She was interrupted by a knock on the door. Both she and Alain whirled toward the sound, Alain with barely controlled impatience at the interruption and Jana with patent horror.

"Come!" Alain snapped laconically.

The butler eased the door open and looked at Alain helplessly as a woman brushed past him and entered the room, curtly dismissing him. After a brief hesitation, Alain nodded and the relieved butler effaced himself, closing the door quietly behind him.

The woman was obviously laboring under some powerful emotion. "Mr. Camar, I must speak with you," she announced in a clipped, high-pitched voice that made Alain wince.

Alain rose from his seat and moved around to the front of the desk, studying her through narrowed eyes with barely concealed impatience. She had that type of figure considered buxom. Dressed primly in a navy blue suit, the top of which rose and fell alarmingly with the force of her agitation, she topped Jana's diminutive height by a good head.

Her hair was drawn into an equally prim and severe knot on the back of her head and was of a shade approaching cinnamon, not quite brown and not quite blond. By contrast, her brows and lashes were so pale as to make her appear both brow-less and lash-less. Her eyes, an exceptionally clear gray, were quite pretty and undeniably her best feature.

"What, may I ask, is the meaning of this sir!" she snapped, waving the newspaper she clutched in her hand in Alain's direction.

Alain indicated a chair. "Perhaps you'd like to explain, Madam," he said coldly.

The woman flounced onto the chair, seeming to collect herself with an effort and sparing hardly a glance at Jana—for which Jana could only be grateful—before turning her attention to Alain once more. "And who, may I ask, is that young woman?" she asked coldly.

"You may certainly ask," Alain said frigidly, pausing long enough for the impact of his words to strike her. "Who, Madam, are you?"

She gasped as if she'd indeed been struck. "Why I'm Jana! The woman you contracted with," she added, seeing his face become shuttered. “And, having just arrived, I must say I feel like the announcement of our marriage is entirely premature!”

Alain turned to Jana, feeling curiously as if he'd just been punched in his stomach as he saw her scared expression.

"Mercy!" Jana gasped into the pregnant silence.

***

Jana glanced from Alain's shuttered face to the woman who was glaring at her so accusingly and wished fervently that she had never come to Orleans. "I was just about to explain. If you'll only let me, I can explain the whole thing."

"Who are you?" Alain asked coldly.

"Jana," she stammered miserably. A black eyebrow rose sardonically. “I am, only … I'm not the Jana you contracted with. I'm not your wife."

Alain, to all outward appearances in complete control, except for a slight pallor beneath his tan and the grim set of his lips, perched one hip on the edge of the desk and regarded her through narrowed eyes. Out came the watch and began its pendulum swing. "That’s debatable, but at the moment I’m far more interested in who you are than in who you are not," he said silkily.