The Sheik's Son (16 page)

“What did you say?” Her eyes widened.

“Your secret is safe with me. I’ll tell no one. But these things,” he jerked his head to her desk, “these things could get you killed.”

She was stunned. “How did you know?” she whispered.

“About the pamphlets?” he asked.

She nodded.

“You used the same wording—marry, carry and bear—with me and then in the pamphlet. And you argue with those men and defend the words too vehemently. Then I saw your writings this morning and I knew.”

Sophie looked away. “Why do you think I could be killed? This is France, not a barbaric land.”

“Sophie, open your eyes.” His hands were suddenly sliding down her arms. “Things are happening in France.”

She heard Madame Necker’s words echo in her ear.
I’m frightened
. For all her juvenile pamphlets, she knew nothing of the world around her. She was merely playing dress-up.

“Madame Necker said the same thing. You and she are in agreement. I live in a world of books written by dead men,” she said softly.

He watched her face and the concern appear on it. She was dressed only in the white shift with a drawstring neckline. Her hair was falling down her back and her hazel eyes looked green, then blue in the candlelight.

“Sophie, I didn’t say those things to hurt you, only to make you see. There is a world outside books. That is all. And it can be an incredibly dangerous one.”

Their eyes met. “I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he said in a whisper.

“What could happen to me?” she asked before he leaned forward.

His lips touched hers, but it was a simple kiss. A sweet kiss. A kiss filled with longing and hope. “Sophie.” He clasped her to him. His heart thudded and began to race.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he told her in a whisper against her temple.

He pulled back and his hands were sifting through her hair. The texture of it fell through his fingers like silk and she watched his eyes in the candlelight. He touched her face softly and his hand moved down along the column of her throat.

“You are so lovely, Sophie.”

***

Leila combed her hair several brush strokes before she had made up her mind. She knew where everyone was staying. She had seen the list for herself. She knew exactly where Etienne’s room was and she knew exactly what she must do.

She was wearing only a simple white shift that came down to her ankles. Tonight would be the end of her virginity, she’d decided. It would burden her no longer. She would gift it to the man she loved.

Leila made her way along the corridor in the silent house. She felt for his door knob and it turned. It was unlocked. It had only been an hour since everyone had departed the salon but she didn’t think he would be asleep.

She entered the room and saw the light from the fireplace and the bed that dominated the room. She stepped into the room and looked for him. He lay on the bed with his arms crossed behind his head. His eyes were closed. She came towards him.

“That’s far enough.” He spoke coldly, opening his eyes.

She smiled. He must have known she would try something like this. He was smart as well as devilishly handsome.

“Why?” she asked innocently.

“Why? Because this isn’t going to happen, Leila. I only left my door unlocked to see if you would be brazen enough to try something like this.”

“Brazen? Are you calling me a hussy?” She smiled, advancing toward the bed.

“Yes. Now I said that’s far enough.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think it’s going to be far enough until you are deep inside me filling me up,” she said softly.

Jesus
, he thought. The woman knew no boundaries. He swung his legs over the side of the bed. She was too much and not enough. She was too beautiful, too young, and too innocent, with no experience of men. She didn’t realize that the tempting and teasing could drive a man insane.

Leila took one more step and then easily removed her shift from her body, letting it fall into a small puddle at her feet.

Etienne closed his eyes. When he opened them he saw her naked form, all curves and high breasts, legs and hips. He remembered so well his finger inside her in that carriage ride and almost cried out.

“Leila.” He spoke coldly.

She knew she would have to take matters into her own hands. She would wait no longer. She had decided Etienne would be hers. She wanted him. She would have him. She had written to her mother to tell her that she was in love. She wanted to marry him. It was the ravenous love of a young girl that would not be stopped.

“No, Leila.” But already he was hard and throbbing. He wanted her. He wondered how could he stop this.

Leila climbed into the large four-poster bed and slid next to him. He was wearing only dark breeches.

“I want you deep inside me. Don’t you want me too? I have seen my father’s horses mating. I have seen the stallion cover the mare and thrust inside her. I want that. I want you and you can have me.
However you want
,” she whispered into his ear.

Christ
! It was too much. It was too much damn much! Etienne threw Leila onto her back and was kissing her and his fingers were in her hair and biting her mouth as she giggled. He was pressing her legs apart and settling between them even as her nails were gripping his forearms and then sliding down his back.

She had teased him to distraction. She had tormented him and many times he had thought of her on her knees, taking him in her sweet little mouth.

He groaned. “Leila, this isn’t right.”

“It is.” She lay completely naked as he tried to struggle with what he knew to be right and what he knew he wanted.

“No.” He sighed.

“I’m yours,” she whispered. She took her hands to cup his face and kissed his mouth. “I’m yours.”

***

Dorset had followed the elderly butler into the hallway before he retired for bed. He had asked the man which room Mademoiselle Gauvreau was in. He hoped to surprise her. She had looked so fetching in her gown and he was aroused and determined. And a little drunk.

The elderly butler was known for being slightly deaf but he had definitely heard the word “Gauvreau.”

“The gold room,” he told the man.

Dorset smiled. Sophie would be in for quite a treat.

***

Dorset crept down the hallway. It was deathly quiet and it wasn’t that far from his own room. He could slip in and surprise the young girl. He wasn’t sure what he would do after, but he thought his plan marvelous.

He had enjoyed several brandies and they had never affected him before. He had also enjoyed several glasses of wine with dinner but had lost count. He wore a white shirt and breeches so his clothing was minimal. As he tried the door, it creaked slightly but opened.

He smiled to himself as he closed the door behind him. He knew the gold room well. It was his favorite room at the chateau and he had been irritated at its loss when he had arrived. However, if the auburn-haired beauty enjoyed it, so much the better.

He made his way gingerly to the bed and saw the figure underneath the bedcovers. She was delectable. Before he could stop himself he was undressing, leaving his clothes in a small heap on the floor.

He slipped naked into the bed and moved his hand toward the figure. In his inebriated mind he knew that she would welcome the role of mistress. She would want him. He would make her an excellent settlement.

“
Cheri
,” he whispered, reaching out to touch her body and pull her into him.

The first scream was shrill and high-pitched. He felt a hand smack the side of his face and then another cry.

“Rapist! Rapist!” The shrill word rang in his ears even as he clutched at his face and fell out of bed.

“Jesus Christ!” he muttered.

She screamed again and he heard the running of feet in the corridor. He was so confused. Who was the rapist? The light was so low in the room but he could see the gold all around him and knew he was in the right room.

Several people were knocking on the door.

“Madame, open up!” Madame Necker cried.

Etienne heard the scream and moved away from Leila, grabbing her linen shift and pressing it to her. It was a sign. He would not do this. He moved to the door and she followed. He grabbed a shirt and pulled it on.

“Etienne?” She looked hurt.

“No, Leila.”

They moved down the corridor together and Etienne was only so relieved that nothing much had happened. Her virginity remained intact.

Sophie and Sebastian both heard the scream and turned their faces to the door.

“Is that
Grand-mère
?” she asked, frightened. Sophie moved to the door with Sebastian following her.

***

“He tried to put his hands on me. He tried to ravish me!” Eugenie cried as more people surged forward inside her room.

Dorset had his breeches on by now but was still without his shirt, hose or shoes. “I assure you,
madame
, that was not my intention.” He swayed a little as he tried to place one hose on his leg.

“Indeed, Monsieur Le Duc?! You were naked as the day you were born when I discovered you here. In. My. Bed.” Eugenie clutched at her wrapper with her small cap covering her grey hair. “It is not to be borne.”

Madame Necker tried to calm the older woman when Sophie and Sebastian walked in. Sophie looked lovely in the dark light with moist lips and auburn hair falling down her back.

La Harpe and Marmontel were trying to stifle their laughter while Buffon took one look at the semi-naked Duke and went back to his room.

“
Grand-mère
, what has happened?” Sophie went to her.

“That man tried to rape me!” She pointed a finger at the drunk Duke. “He put his hands on me!”

“I beg your pardon,
madame
. I obviously made an error and thought this was my room,” he supplied, easily hiccupping as he went. “An easy mistake.”

He eyed the older woman and still didn’t understand what had happened. Where had Sophie gone to?

Sebastian wondered what in truth had occurred. Had Dorset thought this to be Sophie’s room? Would he have dared to try something?

Etienne and Leila had joined the group and Madame Necker saw the couple enter as well. The thought passed through her mind that she was all but running a brothel now. She would have to post guards in the hallway at her next country party.

“Indeed you did. You touched me and came into my room as only a husband should to a wife!” Eugenie cried, pulling her wrapper close.

The duke rolled his eyes and stumbled over the chair as he tried to place his hose on the other leg.

“
Grand-mère,
it is over. There is no harm.” Sophie tried to calm her grandmother as she looked over at the duke.

“There most certainly was harm. I saw that man as nature intended. Naked as the day he was born!” Eugenie sniffed.

“I assure you,
madame
, this was a grave mistake not to be repeated.” He touched his hand to his heart.

“There is no lasting damage, surely
madame
,” Madame Necker soothed.

“There might be to me,” murmured the duke as Marmontel stifled his laughter again.

“This is no laughing matter,
monsieur
,” Eugenie turned to Marmontel. “That man could have gone much further.”

“I highly doubt it,” the duke muttered, placing his one foot in a buckled shoe.

La Harpe and Marmontel left the room, laughing all the way down the hallway as Eugenie tried to preserve her dignity.

“I am fine, Madame Necker. You should be very careful the sort of people you allow into your home,” she bristled.

The duke snorted and picked up his other shoe. “Good evening,
madame
,” he said and made a slight bow, holding his shoe in one hand.

Eugenie turned red and pushed him out of her room. “Knave!”

Leila and Etienne left the room, as did Sebastian and Sophie. When Madame Necker had made certain her guest was calm, she left as well.

“Sophie?” Sebastian stopped her before she could go too far.

“Good night,
monsieur
,” she said briskly.

Sebastian sighed and watched as she walked away. Etienne was quick to return to his room before Leila could say anything. She heard the lock turn as soon as he was inside.

Etienne felt like a haunted schoolboy locking the door against the succubus.
Yes, that is exactly what she is
, he thought. A female demon who takes the form of a human woman in order to seduce men. An innocent woman hell bent on “gifting” her virginity to him whilst trying to get him killed. He must find a way to approach Sebastian.

Chapter 13

Sophie also locked her door once she was safely inside her room. She leaned against the door for support as she tried to recall the events of the day. Her grandmother’s embarrassing mishap had been the duke’s fault and assuredly the fault of too much drink on the duke’s behalf.

The alcohol he’d consumed had made him groggy and he had mistaken the room for his. Regardless, there was no harm done and she was not overly concerned. Her grandmother had a tendency to the dramatic.

She pushed away from the door and went over to the desk. The small candle was still on the writing desk next to her sheets of paper and the list she had compiled.

This is a dangerous list
, he had said.

She looked over at the sheets that she had written. Now he knew who she was. He had discovered that she was the writer of the pamphlets. He would tell no one, she was certain of that. But it was still yet another person who knew and she didn’t like that. She also didn’t like him telling her what to do. She wanted to educate herself. Surely there was nothing wrong with that.

If, in her findings, something caught her mind and attention, she would write about it. Was he correct? Could such writing get her killed? Was it possible in such a refined and elegant place such as France?

She knew Sebastian would not exaggerate or make things up. He was concerned for her. She took the candle to her bed and set it upon the table. She hugged her knees to her chest.