Angelique fell silent. After a few moments, she asked carefully, “What do you want with me now?”
“Simple. I have a proposal to make.” His eyes flickered. “I wish you to spend a night with me. In return, I will ensure your father’s sentence of the guillotine will be changed to ten years in gaol.”
She looked at him steadily. “And if I refuse?”
“Your father will die. And you will be sold into a brothel.”
Angelique stared. “You cannot mean it.”
“Mademoiselle, I will give you time to think about my proposal. But not too long. I am an impatient man.”
He had just turned towards the door, when she said, “Wait…” She took a step forward, her mind made up. “I will do as you say.”
What could she expect from him, she wondered? Every possibility ran through her mind.
“Come,” said Laroche, taking her arm firmly. He led her to the carriage. When they arrived at his apartment, she was fascinated to see it littered with papers and books. He opened a bottle of white wine and poured her a glass. “Let us toast to our bargain.”
She took the glass from him, and studied the label on the bottle. “Oh…this is wine from our vineyard.”
“Very appropriate, do you not think? It is my favourite wine. It has a tang. Fruity and smooth.” He leaned closer. “It thrills the palate like the kiss of a lover.” His words were said so sensuously that Angelique could not help flushing. Would he even guess she had never even been kissed before? But she was not about to tell him this. She sipped the wine slowly, grateful for the time that it bought her before the inevitable. All those books of love she had read would be of no help to her now.
On the wooden table lay a pair of iron handcuffs. Her eyes widened. Would he intend using them on her should she resist? The thought of them made her breath come in quicker.
As if he knew what she was thinking, Laroche lifted them up and shook them so they jangled. “For you? No. You are too fine boned for these. I would not wish to chafe that delicate skin of yours.”
“Oh…” was all she could say in confusion. His gentle manner seemed at odds with his earlier attitude. It was obvious he was a complex man. Perhaps, in time she could learn more about him.
“You know Robespierre well?” she asked tentatively.
“Well enough…” He gave a frown.
“He is a butcher,” she stated with vehemence.
“He once was a visionary,” he replied quickly. “Is it so wrong to want justice for our people?” His eyes burned with an intensity that took her breath away. “I have given my life to this cause. To free France from the burden of the aristocracy. Equality for all.”
“The world thinks otherwise.”
He shot a blistering look at her. “Who cares what the world thinks?” He put his hand on his chest, over his heart. “I am a Frenchman. It is what we feel here. That is what counts.”
If only a man would be as passionate about her as he was about his cause.
“Your vision has led to a bloodbath,” she reminded him.
“I did not want this to happen…but,” he shrugged resigned, “those who hold the power will not change willingly. So they will be forced to. It is the only way.”
“Like you are forcing me,” she said suddenly.
She was rewarded with an angry glint in his eyes. He caught her wrist. “Damn you, Angelique. Your tongue has an acid touch about it. It is time to teach you a lesson.”
She didn’t go willingly. He lifted her and deposited her roughly on the bed. She immediately scrambled off but he caught her around her waist and held her in his arms.
“Need I remind you about your father?” he whispered in her ear.
She froze, her heart hammering wildly.
She let him unlace her bodice. She could not help but notice his fingers, long and tapering. Angelique felt her nipples tighten, and through the silky material she knew Adrien could see it as well. The corners of his mouth lifted.
Once she was in her shift, his hands slipped under her full breasts cupping them, the fingertips smoothing over her taut nipples in a teasing caress.
“Ah, you like this, do you not?” he said.
“I…I…” she stammered. A whirlwind of emotions shot through her.
As she looked at him, she realised how attracted she was to the deepness of his smile and the darkness of his eyes. To her shock, she found her own hands ached to undo his shirt, to feel the hardness of his muscled chest against the softness of her own skin. Then, as if he was aware of her feelings, he gave a small, knowing laugh.
“We will take our time,” he added softly.
Summoning up her courage, she undid his buttons, slowly, one by one. But with an impatient groan he ripped his shirt apart, the remainder of the buttons scattering in all directions. He grabbed her hand and pressed it against his midriff.
“Touch me here,” he demanded, and she did, smoothing her hand across the planes of his stomach, until he groaned with sheer pleasure. It gave her a sense of power that she could have this effect on him.
With one sweep of his other hand, he cupped her arse. Even with the folds of her skirts in the way, she could feel the hard swell of his cock against her, throbbing and pulsing. A deep, aching need opened inside her as her heart started racing, and her nerve endings began sizzling. She could feel her own wetness below, and the wanting of him. Her own body had finally betrayed her, she realised.
With her skirts pooled on the floor, she waited, only imagining what would come next. He stepped out of his breeches and she could not help but stare at his nakedness. The broadness of his chest emphasised his waist tapering to slim hips. She dropped her gaze, uncertain as to what to do, but not before she had seen his cock, erect, and moist at the tip. Her breath began to quicken. She could not think properly. It is the wine, she thought. Or was it sorcery? Perhaps he had drugged her. Yet in all honesty, she knew he would not be the type of man to use drugs or the black arts. It would be a matter of pride where a woman was concerned.
A suffused warmth crept down her body as his forefinger traced a path from her neck, downwards across her breasts to that secret part of her between her thighs. She gave a gasp at the sudden unfamiliarity of his touch, but after a few moments her tension eased as his movement gentled, caressing the silky folds. She began to throb. A small strangled sound came from her throat.