"Hira." Marc's deep voice came through the door.
"Yes?" Startled, she stood and walked over to stand on her side of the wooden barrier, hoping he wouldn' t ask her to open it. Today he'd have no trouble seeing past the ice princess to the very human woman underneath, and she couldn't bear that, not when he might be in love with another woman-someone whom he adored far more than her beautiful face and sexually enticing body. Marc might pity his jealous wife, and that would be the greatest cruelty. Alone in this new land, her pride was all she had.
"Get dressed, cher. We'll go grab dinner-I'll introduce you to the best jambalaya in town."
Her husband's voice held infinite gentleness. After the way he'd tamed her last night, he probably felt as if he could be gentle, for what weapons did a woman so capably taken have?
"I do not wish to." Even to herself she sounded as welcoming as winter frost. It was the only way she knew to protect herself, the only way she'd ever been able to bear her father's treatment of her mother and dismissal of her own dreams.
Silence from the other side. Then a short, "Suit yourself. Don't wait up," he added sardonically.
Ten minutes later when she heard him drive away, she suddenly realized how she could find out the truth. Her husband was always out on a Wednesday and Sunday. Tomorrow was Wednesday and to her knowledge Marc wasn't planning on going into his city office.
At around four the next afternoon, Hira sat behind the steering wheel of the sleek sports car Marc had given her, wishing it were any color but cherry red. She'd told her husband she was going for a drive, but instead she was hiding behind a curve in the road, her ears straining for the sound of his truck. It was shameful but she was going to follow her husband.
Perhaps if he'd come to her upon returning home, she might have broken down and confronted him. But when he'd come through the front door late last night, he'd stalked into the master suite without pausing. She'd thought that despite his dictate that she share his bed, he hadn't cared enough to search her out.
Inexplicably hurt, she'd lain awake for hours, missing him and thinking about the other woman who was keeping him satisfied. But if she were to be honest, her pain had been filled with a great amount of anger. It was that anger that had given her the courage to do what she was about to undertake.
Anger and frustration, for her stubborn husband had come to her last night, deep in the darkest hours when her defenses had all been down. He'd aroused her body, had her whimpering even before she'd fully wakened. Then he'd taken her, storming her senses with fierce purpose.
There hadn't been anger in his touch, but something far more dangerous-a possessive surety that indicated he viewed her as belonging to him, a situation he'd never allow to change. He'd driven her to erotic ecstasy and then he'd started over, giving her another look at the wild male underneath the civilized man. As far as that hunter was concerned, she was his. Full stop. End of story.
By the time he'd finished with her, she'd been so exhausted with pleasure she hadn't been able to speak. She'd barely registered the fact that he'd carried her to the master suite, hauling her possessively close to his side. This morning he'd wakened her with that same intense hunger, watching her go over the edge, allowing her to hold nothing back.
Though she'd felt the raging desire in him, his steely control hadn't broken. That control had hurt her already bruised heart-she'd thought them equal in their desire for each other. Yet he'd given her no chance to seduce him, controlling their sensual dance till the end.
A throaty rumble sounded. Mouth suddenly as dry as dust, she started her own engine and crept around the corner. Marc was just turning right. Swallowing, she followed. As the immediate area around their property was trafficless, she had to hang back until his car cleared each tree-lined curve. After more than ten nerve-racking minutes, they entered a comparatively busier area, but given her distinctive car she knew she couldn't chance getting closer.
Strung taut with nervous tension, she lost track of time as they drove out of their isolated patch of bayou country and north toward Lafayette. For a while they hugged the Vermillion River, but soon even that landmark disappeared, leaving her solely reliant on following Marc.
Relief came as they headed into Lafayette proper. Marc remained on the outskirts of the city, near a large park, but the streets were busy enough to allow her a chance to relax from the constant fear of being spotted. It helped that not a single road in this place seemed to go in a straight line.
The last five minutes of the journey were the most difficult. Because the streets were quiet and.contained many turnoffs, she had to stick closer than she liked or lose her line of sight. But at last he turned into the drive of a large house.
She parked her car a few doors down, behind a black van, her eyes drawn to the house. Children's toys lay here and there in the yard, and a swing set was just visible on the other side. Her hands squeezed the steering wheel and she almost forgot to breathe as it hit her that he might have children. In her pain over the flowers, she'd forgotten the receipt for clothing from a boys store.
When she finally dared to walk down the street to look at the faded sign near the gate, she was startled to see the words Our Lady of Hope Orphanage for Boys.
An orphanage ?
Mind in turmoil, she returned to the car. It appeared that her aloof husband wasn't meeting another woman, but what was his connection with an orphanage? And why had he kept it secret from her? Turning the key, she went to start the car. A big male hand reached inside and jerked it out.
Crying out, she whirled around and looked into the furious face of her husband. "Marc!"
"Get out!" He pulled open the door.
She obeyed, shaken by the visible rage on his face. Once she was standing in front of him, she didn't speak, waiting for his words. And his punishment. From what she knew of men she didn't believe he'd let her go this time without trying to humiliate her pride.
"You think I didn't see you following me?" he demanded, eyes glittering. "What kind of game are you playing?"
"I thought you were meeting another woman," she admitted, her throat dry. She'd never seen him mis openly furious, this out of control.
He seemed to get even angrier. "You want to see what I'm doing? Then come with me. Let's see what happens when you're faced with something that's not so pretty and pampered like the rest of your life, princess."
She didn't point out that she was only pampered because he wanted it that way. He'd been the one to set up accounts for her at the most exclusive boutiques, the most expensive stylists, as if she were an accessory that needed to be polished, she thought with a stabbing pain inside her stomach. Well, she'd always known where her worth lay. And she'd walked into this relationship with her eyes wide open. It did no good to rail at fate.
Now instead of arguing she went with him, the full skirt of her sunny-yellow dress whispering around her ankles. He tugged her up the stairs of the orphanage and pulled her inside the run-down building. An old man looked up from a desk in a room just off the entrance... A room that held a huge vase of wildflowers.
"Father Thomas." Marc's tone conveyed the deepest respect. "This is my wife, Hira."
The man smiled and stood. "My dear, it's lovely to finally meet you." Father Thomas walked over to the doorway and held out his hands.
Though Zulheil's ways were ancient and unlike those of her new home, there was such wisdom and peace in this man's faded-blue eyes, Hira knew he was close to divine grace. Awed, she went to him and bent down so he could kiss her cheeks. The hands that held her own were wrapped in papery-thin skin, but as strong as a young man's.
"I am honored, elder." She gave him the honorific of her land, wishing she wasn't wearing a sundress. In Zulheil, respect would demand formal clothing for such a meeting. Some of the old ways were worth following.
He chuckled. "You are a lovely young woman. A gentle soul."