Chapter 9

Marguerite was surprised by Jacques’ answer. It left her relieved, yet also disappointed. She was happy to hear that he was not going to attempt to seduce her, but she wanted to know why. A part of her felt insulted. Wasn’t she attractive enough for him to want to bed?

“Why not? Am I not beautiful enough for you?”

“You mistake me, Marguerite. You are, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. But, I will not attempt to seduce you; I will seduce you. As surely as I must have air to live, I must have you. You will be mine.”

Marguerite stared at him in shock. She now realized how dangerous this man truly was. She stood. “I-I must go,” she stammered.

Jacques stood and closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his and looking down in her eyes. “I have to see you again. You have bedeviled me, and I cannot stand to be away from you.”

Marguerite tried to pull herself free. “Please, let me go. I need to go back to my husband.”

“Look in my eyes and tell me you do not feel it,” Jacques demanded.

“I do not feel it!” Marguerite declared.

“Look in my eyes and say that!” Jacques insisted, lifting her chin and meeting her gaze.

She stared at him for several long seconds, then whispered, “I cannot.”

“I was lost the moment your lips met mine. Why do you think your husband insisted that you kiss me? It was to torture me! To let me have but one taste and then deny me any more for the rest of my life. He wanted to rub it in my face and make me suffer, that he has you and I do not. I am cursed.”

“I must go,” Marguerite pleaded. “Please don’t make me do this.”

“Free me from this torment and give me one more taste of your lips so that I may grow old with the memory of them still in my mind.”

“I cannot,” Marguerite answered. “I love my husband. I will not betray him.”

Jacques lowered his face. Marguerite did not pull away. He pressed his lips to hers, and she inhaled sharply, twisted briefly in his grip and then seemed to give in. Her lips parted, and his tongue slipped between them to find hers. He kissed her with every ounce of passion he had in him. Marguerite’s body melted against Jacques. She had never felt such passion before. Now she understood what the gossip was all about.

At the same time, she realized what she was doing and with whom.

She jerked herself away and out of his grip. “I’m sorry,” she said as she ran from the room, down the hall, and around a corner. She stopped, leaned against the wall, and took several deep breaths, thinking about what she had just done.