Regency Rogues Omnibus (32 page)

“Yes!” she cried, glaring at him. “I would fuck you as the lowliest puta to stay alive,” she whispered fiercely with hot tears gathering in her eyes. Then suddenly, Wyndham used his hands on her shoulders to turn her away from him, yet at the same moment he tugged her spine back against his chest. His right arm crossed over her with his palm settling across her upper left breast. The heat of his calloused palm made her gasp as he fondled her indecently, and her gaze darted upward to collide with Alexei.

Alexei had nearly reached them as he moved through the crowd. Yet Wyndham with his voice growling into her ear, while he continued to palm her breast, said, “You will obey my every command, or pay
my
price.”

Orelan realized at that moment she was more afraid of her Wyndham than any threat to her life. Yet, crazily she trusted him . . . even as she fought him. Why did she have to be so foolish, she wondered, as she watched Alexei’s icy blue eyes roaming over the near nakedness of her body in the gown she was forced to wear? It was shameful and so embarrassing, yet she could not stop watching Alexei as his gaze settled on the v between her thighs.

“The gown is even more decadent than I imagined,” Alexei jeered as he reached them. Wyndham watched Alexei over the top of Orelan’s head as Alexei snapped his fingers at a passing bare-chested waiter. “Champagne,” Alexei ordered.

When three fluted glasses of champagne appeared, Wyndham did not release his lewd fondling of Orelan’s nimble breast. Nor, did he drink the champagne beneath Alexei’s irritated sneer. He declined the champagne, yet he bade Orelan to take a glass. The effects could loosen her to whatever was about to transpire, he thought, watching Alexei’s every cocksure and aristocratically graceful movement.

“The gaiety of my party. To have you, my favorite gentleman, Wyndham, here once again with me,” Alexei said, tipping his glass in a salute. “Inspires me, Khrisinan.”

“To what?” Wyndham asked, slowly raising his hand from Orelan’s breast to the column of her throat, which he clasped lightly over the jeweled collar she wore.

“To a game, my lovelies,” Alexei replied, slyly. “A game of chance, Khrisinan. Will you play with me?”

Wyndham gritted his teeth, holding snugly to Orelan’s throat to keep her in place as he felt her pulse beating wildly against his fingertips. It had begun, he thought, as he uttered, “If the price is right.”

Alexei laughed, too sharply. He was inebriated and excited, a dangerous combination. “Of course, Khrisinan, I would never cheat you. Shall we say one marker is earned, of the six you owe me, if you play with me? And the game we shall play is cards. Monte. I know it is one of your favorites.”

Alexei twirled the champagne in his glass arrogantly as Wyndham stared at him. “And the currency?” he asked tersely

“Ha!” Alexei exclaimed. “We will start out slowly this evening, Khrisinan. The seduction is everything. We will play for voyeurism. I wish to see what you covet. Tits, cunt, an ass. But you will not wish to show me your puta’s charms . . . or show them to all of these people.” Alexei’s hand swept the room around him. “They will be as excited to watch as I will, Khrisinan.”

“And you,” Wyndham growled.

“The same for my chosen lover of this evening, of course.” Alexei pursed his lips with his light blue eyes languid in a serpentine way. “But of course, I will not mind as much as you, to show my lover’s nudity.”

Wyndham felt Orelan turned her head slowly to rest her temple on his chin. “Make it two markers, my puma, if I am to do this,” she whispered fiercely for his ears only.

Wyndham nearly grinned at her audacity, but the tension was too high and the cost too much. Orelan thought herself the prisoner, yet at this moment he knew that he was imprisoned as much as she was. It was not within his soul to allow his woman to be displayed nude for all to see. Yet, that was impractical . . . emotional, and he tossed it aside. He had learned very well at Drummond and Ravenscar’s side how to be ruthless or at least how to maintain the disguise of it. And since Orelan’s plans were his own, he responded tightly.
“Two
markers, Alexei, or I will take my woman back to my suite and fuck her privately.”

Alexei’s laughter barked as though he could not contain it. “So crude for my noble gentleman, Khrisinan. You make me jealous when you speak the fuck word so masculinely. Alas though, this I cannot allow.” Alexei paused with his hand resting on the hilt of the ceremonial sword he wore belted to his left side. Wyndham had already noticed Alexei’s guards gathering. Two approaching from the left and three from the right.

“But!” Alexei exclaimed, snapping the tension between them. “I will accept this outrageous price for you, Khrisinan. Because, I am so pleased to have you with me once again.” Alexei paused, and then he dramatically drew his sword, to flourish once at his side, before he pointed the tip to the floor. “That is of course why I set your markers so high to begin with, Lord Hawkenge. I realized to say no to you is so hard for me.”

Orelan felt the flinching tremor in Wyndham’s arm across her breasts as his fingers tightened around her throat. She was shocked to realize something that had completely eluded her before. Alexei
desired
Wyndham. Yet, she knew Alexei had women lovers . . . many of them. He had even said that he would bed her, willing or not, once the Arab was finished with her. But this? Of course she knew men might desire other men. But both? Women and men? This was shocking. A sexual discovery that she had never realized. And for such a man as Wyndham it must be disturbing, disgusting . . . frightening? She did not know, and she could not imagine, but the tension in Wyndham’s muscular body spoke to her. Was this the eventual price for her freedom?
No, oh no!

“Calm
down,” Wyndham hissed into her ear as they approached the table, where both men would play their terrible games. Before she could think clearly, Wyndham sat pulling her downward to sit upon his lap. The leash to her collar, he tossed negligently onto the table, as though he did not need it to hold her captive to his power.

Alexei, dressed in a white military uniform with glittering medals on the shoulder, sat across the round table from them. Wyndham tapped his long fingers on the red velvet tabletop with his gaze never leaving Alexei. Orelan tried not to notice the crowd of revelers gathering around the table. She wanted very badly to lean into Wyndham, to smell the warm scent of him and to feel his strength around her, yet she forced herself to sit straight.
Two markers,
she fiercely made herself think.
Two markers, if I do this.
Oh, but she prayed her Wyndham would not lose too much, for she was trying too hard to be brave.

“Angelo!” Alexei snapped suddenly, and Orelan watched a tall darkly handsome European man walk to Alexei’s side. Angelo’s eyelashes were long and dark, his eyes brown, his skin a rich olive, and his build was slender. He wore evening clothes, a black jacket, pants, and a crisp linen shirt. His cravat was starched and folded into an intricate design. Orelan watched in surprise as Alexei took Angelo’s hand, lifting it upward to kiss his knuckles. Was this . . .

“My current lover,” Alexei sneered.

Wyndham’s body tensed beneath her body as his fingers drew into a fist on top of the tabletop. He was as surprised as she was then.

“I enjoy women as much,” Alexei drawled. “And Lilith or Rosalyn, my current female companions are about here somewhere tonight. But I thought, Lord Hawkenge, that this might be much more interesting for both of us.”

Orelan turned her gaze away, looking up at the side of Wyndham’s face. His strong features were etched in masculine starkness, his eyes vivid purple against the golden hue of his skin as he nodded his head slightly. Agreement. The game would begin, yet Wyndham had seen, as she had seen, that Angelo was as much an unwilling captive as she was to the games these powerful men would play with their lives. Angelo was young. Too young. Perhaps twenty and his haunted dark eyes spoke of reluctance and acute embarrassment. Orelan wondered what hold Alexei had over the young man that he could be forced to do this thing or perhaps more. Be forced to be Alexei’s lover.

“Monte,” Alexei drawled. “I know how much you enjoy the game, Lord Hawkenge,” Alexei sneered. Then, Alexei raised his voice purposefully for the gathering crowd around them. “And the bets shall be lovely body parts. Tits, ass . . . a cock . . . perhaps,” He laughed, looking at Orelan now. “Or a cunt?”

The crowd around them murmured with excitement and Orelan gripped her hands together in her lap, gazing at Alexei with all the defiance she could muster, as her heartbeat fluttered wildly. This madness would happen and there was nothing she could do to stop it, and her worse fear was that she understood this was only the beginning.

Chapter Seven

Orelan did not understand the game of cards they played, but she knew when Wyndham lost the first round, by the sudden flexing of tension in his muscular body. “I will not lose another,” he hissed beneath his breath, and she wondered crazily if her Wyndham meant that he purposely lost the hand so that...

“Her breasts!” Alexei sneered. “And we shall wager on the exact color of her nipples!” he shouted to the crowd of people gathered around them. “I will wager one hundred rubles that they are light pink and wickedly erect.”

The crowd roared in laughter and the Arab, who Alexei had nearly sold her to, shouted. “Five hundred rubles that they are red and fat like cherries!”

Orelan did not know where to look, every inch of her skin was flinching with the demand to flee, and then Wyndham’s hand was beneath her chin. Frantically, she grasped his wrist trying to halt its motion, and yet he only cupped her chin, lifting her gaze to his as her hands fell away. His irises were so dark purple they were nearly black as she searched them anxiously with her gaze. She could see determination and strength in his gaze, strength so powerful she clung to it. Then, she saw the barest hint of regret and it was her savior, because it calmed her as nothing else could have. She felt Wyndham’s hands moving to her bodice and she clung to his gaze as even the rancorous bidding faded from her hearing.

Wyndham’s hands were hot on the iciness of her bare shoulders as they slid downward, pulling the gown with them. So slowly the fragile material moved, inching its way lower to the cusps of her nipples . . . hanging on the turgid pinnacles, and then falling loosely to her waist. Cool air flashed across her shivering flesh and goose bumps rose, light and pink, in the circle of her areolas. Her lips parted, yet no sound came forth, then suddenly Wyndham’s wide hand was clasping her throat. The torridness of his palm and fingers searing the flinching column of her throat. He used this leverage to turn her on his lap, until her spine was compressed to his chest. The angle of supplication thrust her naked and quelling breasts further outward. Her fingers clenched in the silk of her skirts as the rushing sound of the crowd around them came back into her hearing. Particularly, Alexei’s shout, “I have won! They are pink and wickedly aroused!”

Acute humiliation and embarrassment flushed her body to a fevered pitch as she turned her temple to press along Wyndham’s hard jaw with her eyes closed against the men and women gazing at her exposed nudity.

“You are more beautiful than any other woman I have ever seen,” Wyndham whispered fiercely into her ear. “These men drool over the youth and perfection of your breasts. These women drip with envy. You should be proud, spitfire. As proud and as bold, as I know you can be. Come drink champagne with me, little love, and flaunt your beauty. Flaunt it in Alexei’s face, and let him know how brave and unconcerned you are.”

Wyndham held his breath as he realized fighting in the war and maiming his leg had been easier than allowing Alexei Tropov to gaze at his woman’s naked breasts. Yet, he would be damned if he let this vanquish them, because he knew that worse was yet to come, and together he and Orelan would be stronger than this or anything else that Alexei would do to them. If only Orelan would...

Suddenly, her body moved, rising from his hand clasped to her throat as she stiffened her spine straight, while sitting in his lap. Grasping his hands firmly, she lifted his palms down over her breasts, making a cup of both of their hands as she laughed, and then she exclaimed, “My golden Lord Hawkenge loves my breasts and he promises me champagne to drink and rubies to adorn them!”

The crowd happily, although drunk, cheered their approval to her claims. They lewdly roared their acclaim when she removed his hands completely from the pale shivering globes, letting his hands drop to her waist. Then, she reached with a flourish for a fluted glass of champagne, arching her back to brazenly display her naked breasts to the crowd as she toasted them. Alexei gazed at her with sly amusement in his cobalt irises and Wyndham saw her winking at Alexei imprudently. Yet, even as she did this, she hissed beneath her breath. “My golden puma, you had better
not
lose to him again or you will feel your spitfire’s claws down your back.”

The tension was edgy, yet Wyndham could not help the clipped laugh that escaped him as he reached forward and knocked the table indicating the deal for the next round would begin. When he reached forward, he caught Orelan’s waist with his forearm, steadying her on his lap, as he murmured, “Be careful what you threaten, my beautiful Orelan. I already have your marks on my back, and I look forward to more.”