Seducer

by Kayla Gray

Genres: Historical Romance

Synopsis

It Only Takes One Kiss. . . When infamous rogue pirate Captain Angel storms aboard the merchant ship Oxford, he discovers more than just valuable cargo. He learns that one of the ladies aboard is the fiancée of his most hated rival. Angel can see that Madeline Hartwell is quite a prize. For bedding her will give him both sweet revenge and immense pleasure... To Seal Their Fate Forever. . . If Madeline Hartwell's true identity is discovered, she could hang for a crime she committed in self defense. But Angel believes her to be a betrothed lady, and Madeline hopes his mistake will ensure her safety. As the two clash, Madeline can't deny the simmering attraction that's heating up--and she may have no choice but to surrender to the pirate's enticing touch. . . "A lusty high-seas adventure with breathtaking action. . .and a passionate romance. A definite keeper." -- Romance Junkies on Rogue

Release date: January 24, 2009

Publisher: Zebra Books

Print pages: 352

Sample

August 1774, Charleston, SC

“You look lovely, Madelaine. Now, you musn’t be nervous. Geoffrey is a fine gentleman.”

Madelaine Hartwell looked up at her father, wondering at his odd comment. His hand shook as he reached up to knock on the door of the impressive Bay Street town house. He lowered his hand and sighed heavily. “I need a moment.”

Madelaine stood patiently by his side, having gotten used to his tremors since his drinking had overtaken his last bit of control.

She smoothed her palms over her dress and swallowed hard, his anxiety contagious. “I am a little nervous. After all, we haven’t attended a social event since Mother died.”

“I know. I just haven’t been myself since my Sarah passed. I thought I’d fixed that damn wheel. I thought the carriage was safe….” he trailed off, sniffing gruffly.

“The accident wasn’t your fault, Father,” Madelaine said, adjusting her bodice.

It was true he hadn’t been the same. Neither of them had, but it seemed that for Madelaine, the last seven years had been all about taking care of her crumbling father and trying desperately to keep food on the table as his gambling debts grew well beyond his ability to pay. She had watched in emotional agony as piece by piece their old life had been taken from them. First, her mother’s jewelry, then the silver and china, soon followed by every bit of furniture and finally the lovely home where she’d grown up.

Last month they had been forced to move into a two-room unit above a dressmaker’s shop. Madelaine had been forced to sell every lovely gown in her mother’s wardrobe to keep them going and was now down to one. Though much too casual and a bit out of style, the gown was clean and presentable. The light shade of sky blue had been her mother’s favorite and Madelaine had put the dress away shortly after her mother’s death. Now that she was twenty-two, the dress fit, though a little snug in the bust. Madelaine had meant to let the seams out, but this evening’s invitation had come up so suddenly, she hadn’t had time to make the alterations.

“Tell me again how we came about being invited to this dinner, Father?” she asked, fidgeting with the tight material.

“Geoffrey is a business acquaintance,” he replied evasively. He stiffened his shoulders and rapped the knocker three times before dropping his hand by his side.

Madelaine’s heart leapt at the loud crack of brass on brass. What is wrong with you tonight? she chastised herself. She had never been the type to be skittish, but she couldn’t shake the strange feeling of foreboding that sent a shiver up her neck as the door slowly opened. She wasn’t used to her father acting so…fatherly, and it was a bit unnerving.

They were taken to a large parlor, where Madelaine counted six people, not including her and her father. As their host approached them, Madelaine began to feel more uneasy. His cold brown eyes roamed over her with much too much familiarity. Then when her father nudged her forward, she had the sudden feeling of being a rabbit stalked by a hungry fox.

“Geoffrey Townsend, this is my lovely daughter, Madelaine.”

“Yes, she certainly is,” Geoffrey responded, eyeing her up and down.

Madelaine felt increasingly self-conscious in the tight dress and when Geoffrey lifted her hand and brushed his tight lips across her knuckles, she had to fight not to pull away.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Townsend. Thank you for having us here tonight.”

“I hope to have you many times in the future,” he whispered for her ears alone.

Madelaine jerked her hand away and backed up a step, glancing around to see if anyone had heard. There was no reaction from anyone, except a voluptuous brunette who seemed to glare a warning in her direction.

Introductions were made, drinks were served and Madelaine tried to relax as she chatted with a lovely older couple. Thank goodness her social skills weren’t as dusty as she’d feared. But as the evening progressed and despite Madelaine’s best efforts, the brunette named Felicia ignored her, returning often to Geoffrey’s side. Madelaine would have thought they were a couple, though Geoffrey seemed irritated at her attentiveness and brushed her arm off his sleeve more than once.

A portly butler entered the room, announcing that dinner would be served soon. Madelaine glanced at her father, who seemed terribly ill at ease. Geoffrey approached him, said a few words, and she watched as her father’s face paled considerably. Thinking he might be ill, she set her glass of sherry down and went to him.

“Father, are you well?” she asked, touching his hand.

“I’m fine,” he responded, without looking at her. “Geoffrey requests a word in the study.”

Madelaine turned to look at their host.

“It will only take a moment,” Geoffrey said, his tone insistent.

Geoffrey offered his arm and Madelaine took it, feeling once again like the hunted rabbit. It was rude of her to assume there was something uncouth about Geoffrey, and she hated the fact that she could be judgmental at times. She attributed that unflattering characteristic to the difficult lessons she’d learned at a much too young age. Countless times, she’d had to roam the city’s unsavory side in search of her father, only to have to drag him away from one card game or another.

Once inside the study, Geoffrey went to his desk and sat down. He pulled papers from the top drawer and motioned her father forward. Avoiding her gaze, her father put his signature on the bottom of each of three pages. Geoffrey then handed him a small leather pouch, which he accepted in a trembling hand. When he finally turned to look at her, his eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

Madelaine’s stomach did a sickening flip. She moved toward him but he put up a hand, stopping her.

“What is it, Father?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“I have to tell you good-bye, Madelaine.”

“What? What do you mean? Are we leaving now?”

“Forgive me,” her father repeated as he rushed out.

“Father!” Madelaine began to follow him but Geoffrey reacted quickly, coming around to stop her.

“Wait, Madelaine. There’s more. Allow me to finish what your father started to tell you.”

“No, thank you. I’ll let my father tell me on our way home. Excuse me,” she said, stepping aside.

Geoffrey grabbed her arm in a bruising crush, pulling her back to stand in front of him. “You are home. And you should be grateful, you little guttersnipe. But you’ll learn to be, in time.”

“How dare you.”

“I dare, because I can. Your father just gave you to me to do with as I please.”

“What?” she asked, incredulous.

“Not ‘gave’ really, since I paid him quite a sum for you.”

“Paid? Is that what this was all about—the envelope, the papers? Oh, God, what did he sign?” she asked, feeling her heart drop to her feet.

“Simply put, he signed you over. He had amassed a sizeable debt to me, you see. But I forgave that debt, even gave him a small amount of money in return for you. You should be quite flattered. I’ve never paid for a woman in my life.”

“Well, you’ve made a terrible mistake thinking you have bought one now. I assure you, sir, you have not.”

Geoffrey advanced on her until she felt the backs of her knees bump up against a chair. He shoved her down with force, though his tone remained calm. “Your opinion is of no consequence. What’s done is done—and quite beyond your control. I suggest you become a little more amiable and soon, before I lose my patience with you.”

“I want to talk to my father.”

Geoffrey leaned down over her, bracing his hands on the arms of the chair, trapping her. His low voice was filled with menace when he spoke, his eyes filled with undisguised lust.

“Your father just gave you to a relative stranger for money to stay good and drunk for all of six months. I would think you would be grateful that I have intervened in your pitiful situation.”

“If you have been of assistance to my father, then I am grateful, Mr. Townsend. But your business is with him, not me.”

“I know you haven’t been in circulation for some time now, my dear, but surely you have heard of me. I am a wealthy, powerful man in this city and you are fortunate to become my mistress. Without the deal I made on your behalf, you would likely end up a whore to a much lesser man.”

“I refuse to believe that my father would make such a deal with you. I am all he has left in the world. Do you really expect me to believe he would sacrifice me this way because you offered him money? You disgust me for even suggesting such a thing.”

Geoffrey laughed contemptuously. He lowered his head close to her and spoke, his sour breath fanning her face with the putrid truth. “I am not the one who approached your father. He came to me.” When she shook her head in denial, he said, “Oh yes. It was only after I saw you last week leaving the dressmaker’s shop that I agreed.”

He ran a finger along her jaw and her skin crawled. She turned her face away and he jerked her chin back to face him.

“You will find pleasure in my bed or pain. The choice is up to you. I enjoy both immensely.”

He pulled her up from the chair by her elbows, her knees ready to buckle at any moment. Nausea flooded her.

Her father had gone to him? It wasn’t possible. As low as her father had sunk to get alcohol and gambling money, she just couldn’t accept that he would…sell her. How could he?

Madelaine felt desperate with pain. Her heart had shattered in the last few years. She had come to believe that there was nothing left of it. But now…she swore she could feel her heart breaking inside her chest.

She barely noticed as Geoffrey leaned down and placed his thin, hard lips against hers. But when his tongue forced entry into her mouth and his hand squeezed her breast cruelly, her instincts came alive. She shoved him away and wiped her lips with the back of her hand as he laughed with sadistic humor.

“You’re so untried. It’s a pity the innocence doesn’t last for long. I really like it when they protest. No, all too soon you’ll be begging for my touch.”

“Never!” she hissed, backing farther away.

A knock at the door caught Geoffrey’s attention and he opened it to the butler, who announced that the guests were waiting in the dining room. Madelaine had forgotten anyone else was in the house. Oh, God, what was she to do?

“Come, my lovely. I’ll have to instruct you later, but for now, this is all you need to know. Tomorrow, Felicia and I are to be wed. She believes you are her new maid. Your days will be spent seeing to Felicia’s needs and whims and your nights will be spent in my bed, though I see no reason to upset her with the truth. I will assure you discretion for as long as you please me. Anger me in any way, and you will suffer—that is a promise. Now, shall we go in to dinner? I am famished.”

He held out his arm as if nothing unusual had just occurred.

Madelaine stared at him in disbelief. “You don’t expect me to go back in there?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yes, I do. I have guests out there waiting for me. Unfortunately, your drunk father couldn’t wait one more night to conclude our business, so I had to invite you tonight. Now I can’t very well tell everyone who you are, and I refuse to try to explain your absence from the table along with your father’s abrupt exit from my home. So come along.”

She couldn’t speak; her brain refused to process all that he was telling her. Too numb to resist, she let him lead her out of the room, down the hall and into the large dining room. He seated her next to the elderly couple she had been talking to earlier. She heard nothing they said, their words blending with the ringing in her ears. Across the table, Felicia’s eyes shone with disgust and jealousy. She knew exactly why Madelaine had been brought here and it was plain as day she wasn’t going to stand for another woman in her home. Madelaine shivered at the deadly promise coming from her cool, blue eyes. At the head of the table, Geoffrey watched her as intimately as if they were already lovers.

She felt trapped. And utterly alone.

As the dinner wore on endlessly, the sense of survival that had gotten her through her worst months, days and hours began to awaken. She hadn’t called on it for some time, and she suddenly realized she’d been existing in a semiconscious state. If she hadn’t been, she would have seen this coming. God, she could have prevented this entire nightmare.

In that moment, she knew there was only one way she would survive this ordeal—alone. By her own wits.

So she made a promise to herself. Never again would she allow her fate to be in the hands of a man. Every woman she had ever known lived under the control of the men in their lives.

And love? What about love? Madelaine’s innocent visions of that fairy tale had been destroyed more than once. She wouldn’t be fooled again.

No, there was only one person she could rely on for all the things she needed in this world. Only one person she could trust with the freedom of thought and choice she desired more than anything else.

That person was her—and she vowed from now on she would never answer to another man as long as she lived.

Madelaine jerked awake as the clock in the foyer struck three. She had heard the chimes ring every hour since she’d been shown to her room at eleven o’clock. Refusing to go near the bed, she chose to spend the hours in a brocade wingback chair by the fireplace. An unseasonable chill filled the room, and she got up to poke at the fire, then returned to the chair and tucked her feet up under her dress.

She had been dreaming about the twins. She often dreamt of her brother and sister when she was troubled. It was as if Robert and Katherine knew she needed them to give her comfort. Madelaine couldn’t help but think about what her family would have been like if the twins hadn’t died. Mother wouldn’t have taken to running the roads in that damn carriage, always trying to hide from her sorrow. And Father wouldn’t have started to drink and gamble until he lost everything, including his soul. Right now she’d be at home with all of them, snug in her comfortable bed, dreaming of a happy future.

Instead, she was fighting sleep, trying desperately to think of a way out of this disaster her father had brought on her. So far, the night had brought her no answers. Leaving Geoffrey’s home was imperative, but once she did, that’s when her true problems would begin.

Where was she to go? She couldn’t go back to her father. Even if she believed he’d had second thoughts and might help her, she wouldn’t go back. Never. As much as it hurt to admit, he was lost to her now. He had sunk to selling the last of his family—his child—so he could continue to drink and gamble.

She could try to find work, but where? She would have to leave Charleston, but without a recommendation and with only the small amount of money sewn into her petticoat, she would have to find something right away. With all of the Intolerable Acts, it would be difficult at best. People weren’t spending money on luxuries like music and dance lessons. Their thoughts and finances were going to various war efforts—building a navy and strengthening the army were uppermost in many people’s minds.

Aunt Elsie and her cousins in London seemed to be her only option, but getting to England was going to be a tricky proposition. Blockades were increasing in number on both sides of the Atlantic, making travel dangerous. Few passengers were still able or willing to find their way across the ocean. People were having to declare their allegiance and then scramble to get to whichever side of the Atlantic their loyalties demanded. But at this point, Madelaine’s situation couldn’t get much worse. If she died trying to get away, then at least she wouldn’t have surrendered to becoming the mistress of a man like Geoffrey Townsend.

Aunt Elsie might not be thrilled to see her, though. An old feud that Madelaine had little knowledge about had kept the families apart since Madelaine was an infant. She wasn’t even certain of her aunt’s address.

A sound at the door startled Madelaine and she sat upright, listening intently. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled as she heard a key turn and the lock give way. The door cracked open and there was Geoffrey’s form in the firelight. His profile was directed toward the bed. Madelaine felt her skin crawl.

“What do you want, Geoffrey?”

“Do you find some fault with the bed?” he asked, looking with meaning at the covers, folded neatly back. “In other words,” he said, his ire rising, “why aren’t you in it?”

He relocked the door and replaced the cord around his neck, then tucked the key inside his nightshirt.

“I’m not tired.” She kept her voice level, recognizing the danger lurking in his tone.

“I see. Waiting up for me, hmm? I must say I’m surprised. But very pleased,” he said, appeased. He came to stand over her.

He placed his hands on the arms of the chair and leaned down to kiss her. She turned her head, leaving his lips puckering in the empty space.

“So, that’s how it’s to be. You’re going to play the reluctant whore. How long do you think that will amuse me, Madelaine?”

“I’m not a whore, and I’m certainly not trying to amuse you. My preference would be that I have no effect on you at all, Mr. Townsend. And that you realize the folly in trying to purchase my affections.”

Madelaine gasped as Geoffrey gripped her arms and yanked her to her feet.

“That’s too bad, dear-heart, because you do affect me. And as for your affections, they are not what I paid such a ridiculous sum for,” he said, his lust-filled eyes raking over her body.

“It’s the middle of the night, Geoffrey. I’m tired. I want you to leave.”

“I know the hour is late. But it seems I can’t wait. I’m here for a taste of what I’ll be claiming tomorrow night and I don’t intend to leave until you oblige me. Willingly…or not.”

“I will never come to you willingly.”

His brown eyes filled with dark fury and before she could sense his intention, he shoved her to the floor and slammed his foot against her. She lost her breath as pain exploded through her midsection. She would have cursed at him, but words wouldn’t come as she struggled for air to breathe.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” he said, dragging her across the Oriental rug to the foot of the bed. She struggled wildly as he picked her up and threw her onto the mattress. Recovering her balance, she leapt up and backed away. He was on her before she could reach the door. He pulled her to him and held her while his lips assaulted hers in a wet, brutal kiss.

Madelaine felt the bile rise in her throat as he placed sloppy kisses down her neck. He smelled of brandy, and a strong, musky cologne clung to his robe and bedclothes.

When his lips reached the top of her bosom, she could stand no more. She shoved him away, inadvertently scratching him.

“Bitch,” he growled, slapping her hard across the face. “I’ll make you sorry for every second you continue to resist me. And I’ll start with the last ten minutes.”

“You haven’t been here ten minutes,” she said, pressing her palm to her abused cheek. She quickly moved to put one of the twin wingback chairs between them. She knew that goading him wasn’t smart, but she couldn’t help herself. The entire night had been a deliberate practice of patience and hers had run out. Her nerves were raw and the final insult was standing on the other side of the chair, demanding she surrender the only piece of her she had left to herself.

She would die first.

“I want you to know something about me, dear-heart,” he said, shoving the chair aside. It tipped and fell sideways with a loud thud. “I’m not a merciful man. It’s important you know that.”

The savagery in his voice gave Madelaine chills. Her breath was coming in shallow gulps as he advanced on her with excruciating leisure.

“I assume that fear is making you unable to speak, so I’ll tell you why it’s important that you know this about me.”

Geoffrey reached her and wrapped his hand around her throat, his fingers pulling her skin and hair. He stalked forward, pushing her backward, then shoved her against the wall next to the fireplace. Her head hit the plaster with a crack and she saw tiny lights ignite behind her eyes. She fought off the dizziness as he unfastened his pants.

“When I’m feeling unmerciful, I tend to be somewhat rough. And you’ve made me feel particularly unmerciful tonight, Madelaine. So you aren’t going to enjoy this. In fact, I would say you’re going to find this incredibly distasteful. But that, my dear, is only going to make my own enjoyment richer.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The man was a beast. And insane. And he was intent on causing her as much pain as she could bear. She watched in horror as his pants fell to the floor. He began shoving her skirt up and she struggled to stop him. It was no use. He was much stronger, and with every attempt she made to stop him, he paused in his assault to slap her.

He laughed and reached up her dress once more, his palm finding the curve of her buttock. She leaned forward and bit Geoffrey hard on the shoulder, gaining a strangled cry from him as well as her release. His retribution was swift, as he grabbed her throat with both hands and started to squeeze.

“You bitch! I’m starting to think you aren’t worth the trouble. But I’ll still have you—and you’re going to feel it, too. Just not this first time. You’ll be nice and complacent for me this time, but I promise you’ll be fully conscious tomorrow night and you’ll feel the full brunt of my anger then.”

The meager light started to spin and then fade as Madelaine struggled to stay conscious. She choked for air, while clawing at his hands, to no avail. He was too strong. He was going to rape her while she was unconscious. Her mind raced to save herself before it was too late.

Only…moments…left.

Can’t…breathe….

Madelaine felt herself starting to slide down the wall, her legs threatening to give out. She raised her arms trying to catch herself on something—anything to gain her balance. If she ended up on the floor, her fight would be over. Geoffrey whispered disgusting words of what he was going to do to her body.

Her hand caught on the edge of the mantel and she held on to keep herself upright. As she readjusted her grip, her fingers brushed against something cool and hard.

A candlestick!

She grabbed the brass base and brought it around as hard as she could in the general direction of Geoffrey’s head. Her vision was blurry, so she was going on instinct alone, praying that she’d make contact with some part of him. Just enough to surprise him and gain her release. God help her, she had to get air!

Suddenly she was free, gasping for breath. She fell to the floor, holding her throat and coughing. It worked! Geoffrey had let her go. He must have realized he was killing her. When she could breathe again, she opened her eyes, expecting to see him standing above her, ready to pull her up and start his abuse again.

Geoffrey lay face up and unmoving on the green and yellow rug, his robe open from the neck down. Madelaine saw the glint of the key resting against his chest and her breath caught in her throat.

This might be her only chance to escape!

She crept to his head and knelt down, hoping she would be out of reach if he woke up. Her hands trembled as she inched the leather strip up and around his neck. The leather caught in his brown curls and her panic increased at the thought that he would wake up before she could tug the strip loose.

The strip came loose and she rose and scrambled to the door. In the low light, she fumbled as she tried to slip the key in the lock. Finally, she made the connection and turned the key. A loud click sounded and then the door swung open. Madelaine slipped into the darkened hallway and ran as silently as her fear would allow. She fled down the stairs and out of the house.

She ran in the shadows down the moonlit street even when her lungs felt like they might burst. She ran mindlessly, with no other thought than that she was running for her very life.

Madelaine woke to the first pink glow of dawn over the Charleston dockyards. She had passed the last few hours of night huddled in an alley against the side of a warehouse, tall clumps of scratchy sea grass concealing her. Now, her legs were cramped and her head was pounding as a result of Geoffrey’s brutality. As she uncrossed her arms to rub her temples, the sight of blood caught her attention. In the morning light, there was no hiding the dark stains that marred her fingers and palms.

Was it Geoffrey’s blood?

He had fallen…and then she hadn’t seen him move again.

But she had only knocked him unconscious. Hadn’t she?

Oh, dear God, no. What had she done? Tears threatened to spill, but she swiped them away with the back of her hand.

She had killed him. She knew it as surely as she knew her life was over.

There was no question of going back to apologize. No explanation would suffice in the murder of a man like Geoffrey Townsend. She had no choice but to leave Charleston as quickly as possible. However, the decision whether or not to go to London had been made for her. She wouldn’t bring her disgrace upon her aunt and cousins.

But where was she to go? Madelaine decided she would settle for travel on any ship, going anywhere as long as she could leave right away. She would figure the rest out once she was far, far away from Charleston.

She tore open the pocket in her pet. . .