He came, he saw, he conquered. Never had those words held so much meaning until the day Chase Trent came into Anna Scott's life and accomplished all he said he would.
"You are five years her senior," Mr. Scott commented. "But it is a good thing. You seem to be knowledgeable in business. Import and export, you said?"
"Ah, shipping agents, yes, sir." Chase stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
"You are working with your father, and should be well established by the time she is old enough to marry. I must insist you wait two years, until she is eighteen."
"It will seem like an eternity, Mr. Scott, but I would say Anna is well worth waiting for." Chase glanced Anna’s way. Anna fumed as she sat silently in the corner of the room during the negotiations for her future. She hardly believed her father promised her to this man without consulting her in private before he accepted the offer.
Chase and Mr. Scott shook hands, sealing her future. Chase Trent came into her life to live up to all he said he would be.
From then on, he brought flowers, candies, little gifts, and jewelry—all of the trinkets one person could ever want and more. Anna began to wonder if he would have any fortune left by the time they married.
They sat in the garden for hours in the evening, and talked while Anna's mother watched respectfully from the sitting room window. They discussed the future. What kind of wedding and where; how many children and what they would name them; the house Anna would like to live in; the number of servants she required. He made it all sound so wonderful.
By the time Anna was seventeen, she wore a diamond larger than any her mother owned. Chase was flashy and loved to show off. He purchased dresses for her that he preferred to see her in, sometimes not as modest as she liked. "I have the best and want everyone to know it," he said.
Anna should have been flattered but began to feel like a possession.
Chase was usually happy, cheerful and loving, but he did have a dark side that presented itself when things did not go as he planned. He clenched his fists and struck at the first available wall or window. He frightened Anna when he flew into a rage. Sometimes, there was no apparent reason for his anger. She decided she could easily overlook his temper for all of his other qualities.
He was romantic. He kissed her hands, her face, and her eyes. He constantly pulled the combs from her hair to allow the dark red tresses to cascade around her shoulders. When he was sure her mother was not watching, he pressed his face into it, lightly touched her neck with his lips, and blew to send chills through her body.
One evening in the garden, he made his desire clear. "How long will you make me wait for you?"
"My father said when I turn eighteen, we shall be married. It is only one more year."
"Eighteen." He sighed. "I want you now, Anna. I can't wait another year. We're engaged. I see no point in waiting any longer."
"You're not suggesting..."
"Yes, I am," he whispered, and pressed his lips to her ear. "Tonight."
Anna looked for her mother. She was talking with her father. She was not paying attention.
"It would be wrong," Anna whispered, dropping her gaze.
"No, there's nothing wrong with it." Chase kissed her hands again.
"We couldn't. Even if I were agreeable to it, there would be no opportunity."
She was glad of it.
"I can find a way. You'll see."
Anna didn't want to see. She trembled at his words. When he said he would find a way, he usually did. He always got his way.
Anna was relieved when the time came for him to go. When her father called her in, Chase walked Anna to the door. He kissed her hand as always and left her with a wink. As he walked away, Anna breathed a sigh of relief.
As she lay in bed that night, she thought back to the day they met. Aidan had told Chase Anna guarded her virtue. Chase had replied, "We will see." Her stomach churned as she remembered his words. She fell asleep after hearing the clock downstairs chime one. From then on, Anna was careful not to be alone with Chase. She was not ready to enter into the physical relationship he expected. Anna did not want to lose her chance to marry him but at the same time, there were some things she could not surrender at any price.
* * * *
Colin sat on the lumpy bed and leaned against the iron headboard. He turned up a bottle of wine, and took a long swallow, his glassy eyes on the lass standing at the foot of the bed. She was a lovely thing, her simple dress and petticoat discarded on the floor, a thick wave of dark hair falling over creamy shoulders as she bent forward to remove her stocking. Colin's dark eyes watched her slide the material from her shapely leg, toss it onto the dress and lean again to repeat the performance for the other leg. She moved too slowly for what he had in mind, but he let her have her fun. He'd have his soon enough.
One hand firmly grasped the bottle; the other unfastened the buttons on his waistcoat. He drank in her form as she stopped with only one layer of linen between him and his pleasure.
She smiled. "Should I go on?"
"Why do you tease me? You know what you're going to get." His mouth curled in an evil smile.
"If I don't keep it interesting, you just might find another lass to bed. Then where would I be?"
"Back to milking cows for your wages, I expect."
"Unless my father finds out why you've been hanging about. He'd be right angry with what you've been teaching his little girl."
Colin raised his brows in innocence. "What have I taught you?"
"How to keep a man interested, Mr. Marsec."
He placed the bottle on the table, and sat up on the side of the bed. "Get over here, then." He motioned her to stand before him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her to him, and rested his head against her stomach. Delicate fingers toyed with his hair as his hands stroked the backs of her thighs to pull her closer.
She straddled him, sliding onto his lap with her knees clamped against his hips. She opened his waistcoat, pushed it from his shoulders, and tossed it onto the growing mound of clothing. He amused himself running his hands lightly around her rib cage beneath the snug-fitting camisole, teasing her as she had teased him with the promise of things to come. His shirt followed the waistcoat.
As her hands moved eagerly to the waistband of his trousers, he whispered, "Make me forget."
To Be Continued...
______________________________________________
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
This book may not be reproduced in whole, or in part, by any means, without the expressed written consent of the author.
Any unauthorized reproduction of this book, other than by written authorization or contract by and with the author, is a violation of Federal Law and will be prosecuted to the full extent of that law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination, or are fictitiously used. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Any trademarks referred to within this publication are the property of their respective trademark holders.
© 2008 Jena Galifany/Marge Conrad
No comments:
Post a Comment