PHANTOM IN TIME (37 page)

“Damnation!
Who would do such a thing?”

She
felt herself being hoisted into Jacques's arms. They exited stage right as the
lights were coming up. She caught his frantically worried expression.

“Jacques!
You'll miss the finale!”

“I
don't give a damn about the finale!” he retorted, carrying her down the
corridor. “I'm worried about you.”

He
bore her into his dressing room and set her down on the dressing table. He
began raising her skirts.

“Jacques!”
she cried, frantically trying to pull down her dress.

“Your
knees, Bella,” he replied, scowling at her formidably. “Stop fighting me. I
must make sure you're all right.”

She
ceased struggling as he raised her skirts over her knees. “Damn, you're going
to have bruises!” He began tugging off her shoes and stockings. “And there's a
thin cut here where the wire got you.”

“I'll
be all right,” she assured him.

All
at once Etienne burst inside the dressing room, taking in the scene, wild-eyed.
“Jacques! For heaven's sake! Can't you sate your lusts some other time? You're
missing the finale!”

Jacques
whirled on Etienne in white-faced fury. “I'm not sating my damn lusts! Someone
just tried to hurt Bella by placing a wire across the back of the stage.”

Etienne
blanched. “You're jesting.”

Jacques
pointed at the angry welt across the front of Bella's ankle. “Does this look
like a joke?”

“My
God!” Etienne stepped closer. “Bella, are you all right?”

“I'm
fine,” she said, feeling a bit silly to have so much attention focused on her.

“She
could have been badly hurt!” blazed Jacques.

Etienne
scratched his head. “But who could have . . . Do you suppose it was Toby?”

“Don't
be absurd!” Bella retorted.

“The
boy would never do anything that vicious,” Jacques snapped.

All
three turned as the boy suddenly entered the room. He glanced warily at Etienne
and Jacques, then with grave concern at Bella. “Bella, are you all right?”

Before
Bella or Jacques could respond, Etienne shook a finger at the boy. “Do you know
anything about this?”

“About
what?” Toby replied. He stepped closer to Bella. “I heard Bella scream and I
was worried. That's why I came hunting for her. She's my friend, you see.”

Bella
smiled at the lad, reaching out to clutch his hand. “I'm okay, Toby. Really.”

Jacques
addressed the boy. “Toby, someone strung a wire across the back of the stage,
and Bella tripped over it.”

“How
awful, sir!” Toby cried, glancing anxiously at Bella.

“Did
you see anything suspicious in the wings tonight?” questioned Etienne.

The
child scowled.

“Please
think, Toby,” Jacques implored.

His
expression deeply troubled, Toby shook his head. “I'm sorry, sir. I don't
remember seeing anything odd. But there's always people running around back
there. Anyone could have strung a wire.”

“Well,
you must see that it's removed posthaste, before someone else gets hurt,”
ordered Etienne.

“Yes,
sir.”

“And,
Toby, will you try to keep your eyes open for us from now on?” asked Jacques.
“Will you let us know if you spot anything suspicious, anyone trying to
sabotage the props or rigging?”

The
lad nodded vehemently, staring straight at Bella. “Of course, sir. I won't
allow anyone to hurt my friend Bella.”

“Good
for you.”

Bella
smiled at the child with pride and gratitude. “Thanks, Toby.”

He impulsively
hugged Bella, then slipped from the room.

Etienne
glanced at Jacques. “Tomorrow, I shall question the rest of the company
regarding this incident.”

“See
that you do,” said Jacques. “I'll not allow anyone to harm Bella, either.”

Etienne
nodded and left. Jacques approached Bella. “We must get you to my town house
and put some ice on those knees.”

“Jacques,
really, I'm fine,” she protested. “But I think I've had enough excitement for
one night. Will you please take me home?”

“Home?
But that is out of the question. You cannot climb stairs in your condition.”

A
smile pulled at Bella's lips. “And what would you have me do in my condition?”

He
grinned wickedly. “I have in mind getting you off your knees—and onto your
back.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “And then in the morning, over to the
courthouse for a marriage license, my pet.”

Though
he spun tempting images, Bella gave him a chiding glance. “Jacques, I think
this is proceeding too fast. I think we need to slow things down a bit—not to
mention we need to figure out why someone strung that wire tonight.”

His
menacing glower dismissed her arguments. “Yes, but not now.” He hoisted her
into his arms.

“Jacques,
you are not listening to me!” she protested as he carried her down the hallway.

“You
are right,” he replied with maddening confidence.

Further
resistance proved futile. Within moments Bella found herself in Jacques's
carriage, in his lap. He lowered the carriage shades and leaned over, brazenly
pulling her bodice down and taking her nipple in his mouth.

“Jacques!”
Bella cried, trying to twist free, but not really sure she wanted to. “My God,
what do you think you’re doing?”

“Distracting
you,
chérie,”
he rasped back. “Just a little kiss to make it all better.
I do not like the pained, worried expression on your lovely face. I prefer a
look of wanton pleasure.”

“Oh,
Jacques!”

Ignoring
her protests, her squirming movements, he ran a hand up her leg. Within seconds
his fingers had found her warm cleft. He parted the folds of her femininity and
stroked the distended bud of her desire with exquisite gentleness. Bella
writhed as if he had pinned her to a rack. Just when she was certain she could
endure no more, two fingers pushed deeply inside her.

Bella
was going insane, gasping, digging her fingernails into his shoulders.
“Jacques! Oh, Jacques! I can't bear it!”

As
always, he was heedless. “Move,” he ordered, his voice commanding.

She
was beyond fighting him, riveted with pleasure. Her hips arched, twisted,
heightening the sweet torture until he was compelled to silence her cries with
his mouth. Her hand slipped between their bodies, and she stroked him
provocatively.

“Bella
. . . my God, woman, take care, we're almost to my town house!”

“You're
one to tell
me
to take care!” she panted back, frantically seeking his
kiss.

Just
as they rounded the last corner, she took her pleasure with a hoarse sob.
Jacques lowered her skirts in the nick of time, right before Luis opened the
door. Both flashed dazed smiles at the coachman, who eyed them warily.

Jacques
carried Bella through the courtyard and up the stairs to his bedroom. As he
laid her up on the bed, she was pulling at the buttons of his trousers.

His
eyes blazed down at her. “The ice,” he murmured, “will have to wait. We have a
fire to extinguish first,
chérie.”

Smiling
brazenly, she leaned forward and kissed the tip of his aroused organ. “I
believe in fighting fire with fire.”

“My
God,” he groaned, eagerly joining her on the bed . . .

Chapter Thirty-four

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Later,
Jacques brought up a tray with iced champagne, strawberries, and cream. They
sat naked on the bed, sipping champagne and nibbling on the cream-dipped fruit.
Jacques rubbed ice from the bucket over Bella's bruised knees. She giggled when
he leaned over to lick the moisture.

He
straightened to regard her solemnly. “No more theater for you, my love.”

“What?”
she cried.

A
glint of steel edged his voice. “Someone is trying to harm you. Your continuing
with the company is out of the question.”

“Why—that
is preposterous!” Bella sputtered. “We already know someone wants to kill
you,
but you won't hear of leaving the theater. Now you say I must.”

His
jaw tightened in determination. “That is different.”

She
struggled not to throw a strawberry at him. “Oh, what a hopeless chauvinist you
are! It is
not
different! If you won't leave the opera, I won't,
either.”

He
glowered.
“Mon Dieu,
you are a stubborn woman. If you hadn't taken that
fall, I'd give you swift instruction in obedience.”

Bella
was livid, speaking to him through clenched teeth. “Get something straight. I
won't live with a man who tries to control me with brute force.”

He
grinned and leaned over to nibble at her shoulder. “Well, I do have more
pleasurable ways to control you . . .”

“None
of that,” she scolded. “And I'm
not
leaving the theater.”

“We
shall see.”

Bella
heaved a great sigh, meeting his eyes as he straightened. “Jacques, whatever
happened tonight, I know the real killer is after you. I'm also worried that—”

“What?”
he demanded.

“Well,
doesn't it seem odd that all of these incidents have occurred since we've been
seeing each other?”

“Seeing
each other?” he mocked. He tilted her chin with his finger. “Making love,
Bella. Sharing our lives and making love.”

She
saucily wrinkled her nose at him. “Very well. Making mad, passionate love.”
Biting her lip, she turned serious. “But the threats began since we've been
together. True?”

He
shrugged. “I had never really considered that.”

“Jacques,
you
must
consider it! I've always thought I was sent back in time to
save you. But what if fate has played a cruel joke on us both? What if,
ultimately, I'm provoking the very jealousies that will cause your death?”

He
waved her off. “Bah! That is absurd.”

Bella
was quickly losing all patience. “It would not be at all absurd to a reasonable
man instead of a cavalier rogue.”

His
gaze beseeched the heavens. “Bella, what are you babbling about?”

“I'm
saying that for your own safety, I think we should cool it.”

His
brows slanted together. “Cool what?”

“I
think we should stop seeing each other.”

“Not
a chance!” he retorted. “If you even try it, you'll receive a prompt
demonstration of my so-called brute force.”

“Well,
you may not have to bother,” she retorted. “What if I'm whisked back to the
present again, before I can even save you?”

He
hauled her close. “You're not going anywhere. That's one reason I prefer you to
stay away from the theater. I lost you there this last time, when you claim the
kaleidoscope sucked you away. There will be no more abrupt appearances and
disappearances for you, my girl. Besides, why should
you
be required to
save me? Do you think I cannot take care of myself?”

Bella
felt as if she were trying to reason with a bedpost. “Frankly, that's exactly
what I'm afraid of. If you were the least bit cautious, you'd leave the opera
immediately. Instead, you act with flagrant disregard for your own safety, just
like my parents did.”

He
sighed heavily. “I'm very sorry, Bella, but what does that have to do with me?
I am a man and I can take care of myself.”

“And
I am a woman and I cannot?”

“Precisely,”
he answered with infuriating arrogance. “I'll take care of you.”

“Like
hell you will.” She moved to bolt out of the bed.

But
his arm quickly caught her around the waist. “Enough of this,” he blazed,
wrestling her down beneath him.

Despite
the thrill of being pinned to the bed by his powerful body, she stared up at
him in defiance. “Jacques, making love to me again won't solve anything.”

His
slowly spreading grin bespoke otherwise. “Want to wager on that, Bella?”

“I
want you to let me up.”

His
trailed a finger over her aroused nipples. “Are you going to try to stop me?”

Panting
for breath, Bella glowered at him. It was useless to say she would resist when
they both knew she wouldn't.

“Damn
it, Jacques, this won't
solve
anything.”

“But
it will certainly feel good, eh,
ma belle?”

Chuckling,
Jacques reached for the bowl on the bedside table. She gasped as he rubbed a
dollop of cream on her nipples.

She
squirmed at the decadent sensation. “Jacques! What on earth are you doing now?
I'm going to be all sticky. I'll need a bath.”

“Not
when I'm through with you,” came his wicked reply.

“Oh!”

But
Jacques held her fast and slowly licked the cream from her nipples. Within
seconds her outraged cries faded into sighs of delight. The tactile contrast
between the cool, smooth cream and his hot, wet mouth was potently erotic. Her
fingers kneaded his smooth shoulder muscles and her lips delved into his silky
hair.

Bella
was floating in a sensual utopia, only to gasp as something cold and bristly
rubbed her belly. She looked down to see that Jacques had planted a strawberry in
her navel—and he looked supremely proud of his feat.

“Jacques!”

His
smile was positively decadent as he leaned over and took the fruit between his
teeth, quickly devouring it, wetting her with sweet juices. She shuddered as he
sucked the nectar from her navel and licked it from her sensitive belly. The
lewd ritual left her breathless, and painfully aroused.

“You
are depraved,” she breathed.

“And
you are loving every second.”

A
moment later, he placed a strawberry in her hand and flashed her another sinful
smile. He leaned over, nestling his lips in the mound of curls deep on her
belly. She shivered with delight.

He
glanced up, his face dark with passion, his voice husky. “Your turn, Bella. Put
the strawberry some place that I'll find irresistible.”