Thea Devine - Captivated

"My dear." Her father, with his palliating tones, his reasoned arguments. He looked as proud as if this wedding were real and Court her choice instead of his. "You are absolutely doing the right thing."

"For whom?" she asked bitterly, but she had always known she would do anything for him. And now she had: she had signed away her life to Court so that her father's life could continue on just as it always had, with the sole stipulation that he never gamble again.

What if he did? she wondered. What if her bluff, glad-handing father went to New Orleans and put a dollar down on the outcome of a horse race? And lost. What would happen then?

But she knew. Court had given her father an ultimatum, all of it spelled out in the contract. He would bail him out once out of duty; twice out of honor, and the third time, he would take the remaining half of Oak Bluffs and leave Victor with nothing.

And Victor was not a man who was used tonothing. The threat scared him. And the fact he had two chances to get it right was a speculator's dream. He had been very good, her father, in the past months since he had bartered her and half of Oak Bluffs away. He had stayed at the plantation, tending to business, salivating over the money that Court had deposited in his bank, even knowing that Court would demand an accounting of every penny spent.

That was how partners operated, Court said. Everything in writing. None of this trusting to the honor of the other business. That was how a man got trapped in a lie.

So how did it happen that she was ensnared in the biggest lie of all?

The cost was too great, she thought despairingly as her father dropped a light kiss on her cheek. Her body. Her loyalty. Her life.

She hadn't seen it in quite those terms in the light of her father's desperation. The moneylenders were after him, he'd told her. He'd lost three seasons' profits, and the money had to be paid. It was a simple business deal: an alignment of two of the parish's wealthiest, most distinguished families. No one would know the worst.

And she Oh, here was the best part, her father said, she would be provided forhe would never have to worry about her again.

She remembered how she had gone still, her body frozen at the idea of being provided for. By Courtland Summerville. Her father's creditor. Her father's friend.

"You look beautiful," her father said, stroking her silk-shrouded arm.

But he'd said that earlier, after he had walked her down the aisle in her drift of virginal white, just before he relinquished her to Court's care.

"Thank you." What could you say to a father who thought that the sacrifice she had made for him was really a blessing for her?

"Soon you'll be in your new home, all snug and safe with your new husband," her father went on. "I can't tell you how happy that makes me."

I just bet it does.

Her thought shocked her. She had never, ever had any negative feelings about her father's situation.

But that was before she had actually promised to love, honor, and obey his worst enemy.

"Are you happy, Father?" she asked quietly.

"Aren't you?" he countered, as if she had always seen the solution the same way as he.

She looked away from him. It was getting easier and easier to lie. Court could have taken everything in payment of the debt. But he had only demanded a partnership in Oak Bluffsandher. She was only trading one satin cage for another. Except that one was occupied by a tiger.

"I amcontent. This is the best solution."

"Let him take care of you, Drue. He's a good man, really."

He's a monster. "I'm sure we'll rub along just fine."

"There could be love, if you let it… He's a passionate man, as I'm sure you well know."

She shuddered. Her father was no romantic; he had lived his own life to the fullest while her mother was alive. And Mother had run Oak Bluffs and kept every feeling, every resentment, to herself till the day she died.

Passion had never entered into itexcept where her father's gambling was concerned.

There was passion, larger and grander than any love story she could concoct. And it had seduced him, sucked him in, held him utterly in thrall. It was the love of a lifetime, and he wasn't over it yet; maybe he never would be.

Who would willingly submit to such ungovernable feelings?

You'd get towed under; you'd be rendered helpless, you would drown.

Not me.

Not me…

And then the thought came, unbidden, unwanted, never spoken:There was only one way to get through it.

… Like Mother. Just like Mother. Removed. Restrained. Resolved.

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.