“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Candice lashed out. “It’s damn rude—I’m not a piece of meat being inspected for sale.”
Lorna laughed, coming closer, picking up a strand of Candice’s long, disheveled hair. “Even your hair is beautiful,” she murmured, “such a rich yellow, like black-eyed Susans.”
Candice froze, staring at the expression on the woman’s face. If she didn’t know better, she would say the woman was sexually attracted to her, but of course, that was unheard of. She yanked away.
Lorna smiled.
Both women glanced up as Kincaid stepped into the room, his eyes brightening as he took them in. “Ah, Lorna, paying my mistress a social call?” He stepped rapidly over to Candice, taking her arm, staring down at her with bright eyes.
“Virgil, we have to talk,” Candice said desperately.
Kincaid met Lorna’s glance, then laughed. Do we?” He tightened his hold on her arm and pulled her against him. “Did you really think you could steal a knife to stab me while I slept? Or seduce Jim to help you escape?”
Candice just looked at him—with murder in her eyes. She had no reply to make.
“Be careful, dear, or I’ll give you to Lorna,” Kincaid warned dangerously.
“What?” Candice was sure she’d misheard. Then she understood—he Would make her work as a whore.
“Lorna likes women when they’re very, very beautiful—in fact, sometimes I think she prefers women,” Kincaid said, smiling when shock crossed her features.
Candice turned to look at Lorna. “No, I don’t believe it—it’s not true.”
Lorna smiled, her eyes bright with a light that Candice understood now, and reached out, one smooth hand cupping Candice’s face. When Candice tried to wrench away, Kincaid held her firmly in place, against his chest. Lorna’s hand lingered. “I could pleasure you, my dear,” she said huskily. “I have no doubt about that.”
Candice was momentarily stunned.
“If you don’t behave,” Kincaid said into her ear, his breath warm, “I may give you to Lorna for a night.”
“Virge,” Lorna said, glancing at him breathlessly, her hand still on Candice’s face, “please do. I’m no threat to you.”
“Never!” Candice cried, twisting her face away. But Lorna’s hand followed it. “I’ll kill you!”
Kincaid laughed. “She can always tie you up,” he told her. “In fact, I would make sure that she did.”
Candice stood panting against Virgil’s iron hold, dazed and panic-stricken.
Kincaid laughed.
Lorna’s hand slid down to Candice’s shoulder, and she glanced at Kincaid as if for a sign to stop. Candice twisted again, but uselessly. Lorna smiled, and both her hands came up and cupped Candice’s breasts, rubbing and squeezing, seeking out her nipples with dextrous fingers.
“Virgil!” Candice cried, bucking against him. She had to escape Lorna’s hands! Worse, as she pressed away from Lorna, against Kincaid, she could feel his male response to her. There was no mistaking it.
“Enough,” Kincaid said quietly. “Leave, Lorna. Another time.”
Lorna dropped her hands immediately, and with a hungry look at Candice’s pale face, she was gone.
Candice’s heart was pounding wildly. Dear, sweet Jesus! God help me! She felt nauseated and, worse, almost hysterical from despair. She closed her eyes as Kincaid lifted her and carried her to the bed.
“Let go this time, Candice,” Kincaid whispered huskily, pulling off her gown. “Let me pleasure you.”
Never, Candice thought, trying to hold back a deep, wrenching sob. Never.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Jack slammed the glass down and reached for the bottle. His hand closed with exaggerated precision around it. He lifted the bottle and poured, managing to spill as much as not. He didn’t give a damn. He banged the bottle down, raised the glass, and drained it.
It had been two weeks.
