Counterfeit Lady (James River Trilogy 1) - Page 65

“Yes,” she murmured.

Isaac moved away from her, then gave her a drink from a tin cup. She drank greedily. “That’s enough,” he said. “Let’s sit down and get some rest.” He put his arm around Nicole’s shoulders and led her to the far wall.

“You are younger’n I thought,” Abe said with distaste. He started to say more but he stopped.

Isaac sat on the floor, then pulled Nicole down beside him. “Don’t be afraid,” he said when she stiffened. “I won’t hurt you.”

She was too weary, too cold, too numb to care about propriety. When she sat beside Isaac, he pulled her head to his shoulder, and they both were instantly asleep.

“Isaac!” Abe called, pushing his little brother on the shoulder. “Wake up!” His eyes were on Nicole. It angered him that the bitch gave so much to his little brother. Isaac wasn’t even a man yet, barely fifteen, and he’d never had a woman. Yet he sure acted like he knew about women, the way he handled that Nicole. Abe watched her, had watched her for the last hour as the daylight slowly entered the little cabin. Her black hair had come unpinned, and the dampness made little curls cling to her face. Her thick lashes curved across her cheek. And that mouth! It was about to drive him wild. It made him sick to see the way Isaac’s arm was so possessive around the woman, his hand resting just under her velvet-clad breast.

“Isaac!” Abe called again. “You plannin’ to sleep all day?”

Slowly, Isaac came awake. His arm tightened around Nicole, and he smiled down at her.

“Come on, get up,” Abe said in disgust. “You got to go to the sloop and get the supplies.”

Isaac nodded. He didn’t question his brother about why he should make the trip instead of Abe. Isaac had always obeyed his brother. “Are you all right?” he asked Nicole.

She nodded mutely. “Why have I been brought here? Are you asking Clay for a ransom?”

“Go get the food,” Abe commanded when Isaac started to speak. “I’ll answer her questions. Go on!” he commanded when Isaac seemed to hesitate.

Abe stood in the doorway and watched his young brother walk down the path.

As soon as she was alone with him, Nicole knew she should be afraid of Abe. Yesterday, her mind hadn’t been working clearly, but today she sensed the danger she was in. Isaac was a sweet and innocent boy, but there was nothing sweet or innocent about Abe. She stood up quietly.

Abe whirled on her. “Now we’re alone,” he said quietly. “You thought you were too good to have anything to do with me, didn’t you? I seen the way you hung on Isaac, the way you let him touch you and hold you.” He took a step toward her. “You one of those women what only likes young meat? You only like little boys?”

Nicole stood straight, her spine rigid, refusing to let this awful man see her fear. Her grandfather’s voice came to her: “The Courtalains carry the blood of kings.” Her eyes darted toward the door. Maybe she could get past him to the outside.

Abe chuckled deep in his throat. “There’s no way to get out past me. You might as well just lay back and enjoy it. And don’t expect Isaac to come rescue you either. He’ll be gone for hours.”

Nicole moved slowly along the wall. Whatever happened, she wouldn’t give in to him easily.

Before she’d taken one good step, a long arm shot out and grabbed a handful of her hair. Slowly, very slowly, he wound the thick mass around his hand and drew her to him.

“Clean,” he whispered. “I bet that’s the cleanest hair I ever smelt. Some men don’t like black hair, but I do.” He chuckled. “I guess you’re real lucky that I do.”

“I don’t think you’ll get as much ransom if you harm me,” she said, his face close to hers. His little eyes were almost black as he stared at her, and he smelled of old sweat and rotten teeth.

“You’re a cool one,” he said, grinning. “How come you ain’t cryin’ and beggin’?”

She gave him a cold look, refusing to allow her fear to show. Her grandfather had faced an angry mob. What was one dirty, evil-minded man compared to that?

He held her by the hair close to him. He ran his other hand over her shoulder, down her arm, his thumb caressing the curve of her breast. “Your value don’t depend on what I do to you. As long as I keep you alive, I can have my fun with you.”

“What do you mean?” Nicole thought maybe she could keep him talking.

“Never mind. I ain’t interested in explainin’ myself to you.” His hand moved to the curve of her hip. “That’s a real pretty dress, but it’s gettin’ in my way. Take it off!”

“No,” she said quietly.

He pulled her hair until her neck threatened to break.

Her eyes teared from the pain, but still she would not undress herself. She would not play the whore for any man.

He released her abruptly, then laughed. “You are the haughtiest bitch I ever did meet.” He went to the doorway and picked up the ropes Isaac had left on the floor. “Since you won’t do it yourself, maybe I’ll just have to help you. You know, I ain’t ever seen a woman without a stitch of clothes on.”

Tags: Jude Deveraux James River Trilogy Historical
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