“I have paid the owner handsomely to ensure we have privacy.” He lifted a side of the tent and urged her inside.
“Mr. Valentine,” she whispered, sounding breathless and silly.
“Don’t be afraid, my dear. I would never hurt you.”
“I know you are a gentleman,” she whispered, relieved that it was not completely dark. There was not much in the tent. A chair and some things stacked about the place. No people, however, which was clearly what he’d wanted. He moved to stand before her, his hands on her shoulders, the fingers of one hand slowly stroking her neck.
Beth fought her body’s reaction to stiffen and pull away.
“Miss Carlow, you have possessed me. I can think of nothing but you and when we could be together once more,” he crooned.
“Oh, Mr. Valentine, I am no different. I have longed to see you again.” Which was entirely true; she had wanted to see him, just not for the same reasons as his.
Only one word could describe the look on his face.Lecherous.
His hands undid the bow at her throat and removed her bonnet. He threw it to the floor.
“Oh, I—” His mouth stopped any further words from leaving Beth’s. She was pressed hard into his chest, his lips devouring hers in an extremely unpleasant way. Something jabbed against her left breast, and she knew instantly what it was.
“Ouch!” She stepped back.
“What has happened?” He reached for her again.
“Something in your jacket, it stabbed me,” she whimpered, rubbing her breast. His eyes followed the movement, seeming mesmerized by her actions.
He tore the jacket from his body and threw it aside.
What now?
His hand gripped the back of her head, and he jerked her close once more. His mouth slammed down on hers. Their teeth clashed and noses collided.
“Mr. Valentine!” She wrenched her mouth away; he grabbed her jaw and turned it back, the arm around her tightening in a determined grip.
“Y-You are scaring me.” She tried to pull back, but his grip on her was fierce.
“Little girls who play with fire pay the price.” The words were rasped against her mouth.
She struggled in earnest then, but before she could free herself, he stopped kissing her as a furious squeal filled the air.
“Save me!” Mr. Valentine screeched.
Beth stumbled back and fell, her eyes on the four pigs who had stormed the tent.
“Don’t eat me!” he cried, then fled without looking back.
Beth fought back the tears. Fought back the need to be sick. One of the pigs came to stand before her, snuffling against her boots. She patted its head with a trembling hand, needing that contact, even if it was with a pig.
“Thank you, little p-piggies.”
She’d known there was every likelihood he would kiss her. That she would need to let him do so to gain what she wanted. But not what had transpired. Beth had no doubt that if the animals had not entered, he would have attempted to take advantage of her in the worst possible way.
“Move, Beth,” she urged herself.
Getting to her feet, she grabbed the jacket, heart pounding, and began searching the pockets. The pigs snuffled around her as she did so. Beth liked pigs and had raised several of her own over the years. Finding the small blue book, she felt her heart pound hard inside her chest. Could she use this to barter family’s freedom?
“Come, piggy,” she whispered, holding out the jacket. “Run away with it.”
Three were completely black and one a mix of black, white, and tan.
