The Frenchman’s Captive Wife
Mills & Boon Modern Romance
September 2006
ISBN: 0263848442
Harlequin Presents
December 2006
ISBN: 0373125941
He wants her back – for their baby’s sake.
Emily Vaillon was driven to leave her husband Luc a year ago. The passion between them was phenomenal, but she couldn’t stay with a man who clearly didn’t love her – especially when she discovered she was pregnant.
Now Luc is back, demanding to see his son. Emily will come to his chateau to play the role of mother – and wife.
Trapped in the castle, Emily must cope with being thrown back together with her handsome husband, and even as the chemistry between them escalates, her suspicions about his personal assistant and his past grow.
Emily must uncover the real Luc if she is to find out the truth and win back his trust – for herself and her son.
…The room across the landing where she has asked Simone to transfer her clothes was smaller than the master bedroom but it was pleasant enough and she was so tired she doubted she would be awake long enough to admire the décor. Wearily she snapped on the light switch but the room remained in darkness, apart from the sliver of moonlight that streamed in between the crack in the curtains. Damn it, she cursed as she stubbed her toe, but it was too late now to change the bulb, even if she knew where to find one. She closed the door and for good measure dragged the heavy dresser in front of it. Luc no doubt assumed that his biddable wife would be sleeping in his bedroom, but if he thought he could flit between her and his mistress, he was in for a shock.
‘It’s all right chérie, I’m a willingly captive. You don’t need to barricade me in!’
A bolt of fear caused her to cry out, her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the tall, menacing figure just visible in the doorway leading to the en suit. ‘How did you get in here?’ she demanded, her disbelief turning to a mixture of fury and embarrassment when she realised he had watched her struggle to pull the dresser across the door. ‘You must have lost your way - your room’s across the hall,’ she added sweetly, striving for the brand of sarcasm he used with such deadly effect. ‘And do you know where I can find a spare light bulb?’
Instead of replying, he strolled across the room and flicked on the bedside lamp so that the room was bathed in a gentle glow, his cold smile sending a frisson of apprehension along her spine as he held up the bulb he had removed from the ceiling light fitting. His silence unnerved her yet she could not drag her gaze from him. Tall, dark and devastatingly sexy, he unnerved her she acknowledged wryly. Her tiredness seemed to have vanished and she felt strangely enegised, every nerve ending tingling with a sense of expectation that refused to be quashed.
‘I’m sure you have your reasons for snooping about in the dark, but I’m tired and not in the mood for playing games,’ she told him shortly, and his jaw tightened.
‘I’m not the one playing games, and it’s you who’s in the wrong room. As my wife you have certain duties to perform,’ he reminded coolly, and the sheer arrogance of his statement fuelled her temper.
‘I’m taking early retirement but I’m sure you’ll have no problem filling the vacancy in your bedroom. As for performing, I did that this afternoon. You don’t really think I enjoyed myself, do you?’ she queried tightly, praying he wasn’t remembering her eager capitulation in his arms.
‘Non, chérie, I would never have guessed from your energetic response between the sheets, that you hated every minute of making love with me,’ he drawled, and her face flamed.’
‘Well, I did and I’m not planning an encore.’ With the dresser wedged across the door and Luc barring her way to the bathroom she seemed to have reached stalemate and she gave an exasperated sigh. ‘I would really appreciate being left in peace,’ she said huskily. ‘It’s been a hell of a day.’
How did she manage to look so achingly fragile? Luc wondered savagely. Her air of vulnerability never ceased to affect him. Her eyes had darkened to the colour of midnight and appeared far too large for her pale, heart shaped face. Her hair fell almost to her waist and he fought the urge to wind his fingers into the chestnut strands and pull her in. She was his woman, his wife damn it and he wanted her with a hunger that bordered on obsessive, but she had tried to barricade herself out of his reach.
Was she afraid of him? The thought made him pause fractionally, but every instinct told him it was not fear that made her shrink from him. He knew her too well, recognized the fierce sexual tension that gripped her so that her pupils dilated and she was forced to moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue. She wanted him as badly as he wanted her, but convincing her of that fact was going to take more patience than he currently possessed.
‘I am your husband, the man you agreed to love, honour and obey, if I remember the wording of the old service that you decided on. For ever, chérie. Until death us do part. Isn’t that the promise we once made?’
‘We also promised to stand by one another in sickness and in health, but you broke that one the minute you learned I was pregnant,’ she said shortly, dragging her gaze from his hard-boned, handsome face.
‘When I failed to give you enough attention?’ he murmured silkily. ‘Rest assured I won’t make the same mistake again ma petite. ‘There will be no separate rooms, nothing to fuel gossip among the staff. Simone has already spent half the day transferring your belongings between rooms.’
At that Emily flung open the wardrobe, her temper heating to boiling point when she found it empty.
‘You are my wife and you will share my bed,’ he stated, and the implacable determination in his gaze was the last straw.‘Lucky me,’ she quipped striving for sarcasm to hide her trepidation as he shoved the dresser away from the door and headed in her direction…