Stranger in My Arms(51)

“I don’t understand you,” Lara said, shaking her head. “How can you be so kind to your own servants and so heartless to outsiders?”

“I can only afford to care for those who live under my roof. The rest of the world can go to hell.”

“It appears you haven’t changed after all.” Sickening disappointment welled up inside her. “You’re as heartless as always. For some reason I actually thought you would allow me to help those children” “I haven’t forbidden you to hold the ball. I’m only leading up to the conditions I’m going to impose “What conditions?” she asked warily.

“Ask me why I didn’t tumble any of the whores I was with tonight,” Hunter said. “I could have, easily There was one with br**sts the size of melons, and she kept sticking her tongue in my ear-” “I don’t want to know about that.”

“Lonsdale and the other fellows were grinding the wenches on the tables, the floors, against the wall- but I left when all of it started, and came home to you. Do you know why?” Hunter smiled bitterly, as if he were about to tell a dirty joke. “Because I’d rather sit outside your door and moon over you while you sleep in your celibate bed. The mere act of holding your hand, or hearing your voice, or smelling your perfume, is more exciting than bedding a hundred women.”

“You only want me because I’m a challenge,” she said.

“I want you because you’re sweet and pure and innocent,” he said huskily. “In the past few years I’ve seen things more foul than you could imagine… I’ve done things you would never…” He stopped and let out a harsh sigh. “I want a few hours of peace.

Of pleasure. I’ve forgotten how to be happy, if I ever did know. I want to sleep in my own bed with my own wife-and I’ll be damned if that’s a crime.”

“What are you talking about?” Lara asked, bewildered. “What happened to you in India?”

He shook his head, a mask dropping over his face.

“It doesn’t matter. As things stand now, I’ve been reduced to bargaining for a night with you-and I’ll be damned glad to get it.”

“If you think that I’ll sleep with you in exchange for-” Her eyes widened. “You couldn’t possibly mean that you won’t let me hold the benefit if I don’t…”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Make the arrangements and invite a thousand guests. I’m sure your efforts will be much admired, and the orphans will be grateful. Everyone will be pleased. Including me.

Because at one o’clock on the night of the benefit, you’re going to come upstairs with me, and get into my bed, and let me do as I wish with you.”

“Can’t you think of anyone or anything besides yourself?” Lara turned crimson. “How dare you use those poor children’s misery in order to make me sleep with you?” “Because I’m desperate.” He smiled mockingly.

“Do we have a bargain, my love?”

She didn’t answer.

“It’s not as if you haven’t done this before,” he reminded her.

Her lower lip protruded mulishly. “I hated it.”

“You survived,” he pointed out curtly. He sat there waiting, as stalwart and unbudging as a huge block of granite, impervious to her tiny barbs. There was nothing she could say, no counteroffer he would accept.

Self-serving ass! How dare he turn a noble cause into a quest for his own sexual satisfaction? She longed to throw the bargain back in his face and assure him that nothing in the world would make her subject herself to that again. But the thought of twelve children like Johnny, suffering needlessly… and the thought of what she could do for them… it was more than she could bear.

Would it be so terrible to spend a night in Hunter’s bed? He was right, she had survived the other times.

She had managed to extinguish every emotion and sensation, and concentrate on other things, and ignore what was happening to her.

Lara’s heart sank in her chest as she realized that she would have to do the thing she most disliked in order to get what she most wanted.

“All right,” she said in a dull voice. “The night of the benefit. One time. And then…” She searched her mind for the appropriate epithet.

“Then you can go to hell!”

He showed no sign of satisfaction, but she sensed the enormous pleasure he took in her surrender. “I’m already in hell,” he said. “I just want one night of furlough.”

Hunter left his pale, tightly strung wife, and somehow made his way to his own room. He fumbled with his boots and crawled onto the bed fully clothed. His brain was swimming with giddiness, partly because of the alcohol and partly because of the emotions that moved him. He had expected to feel triumph, but instead there was only relief. He imagined holding Lara, loving her, drinking in her sweetness like a soul in hell who had been granted a glass of cool water. “Thank God,” he mumbled into a downy pillow. “Thank God.”

“Oh my.” Rachel’s hazel eyes were round pools of amazement. “I’ve never heard of a husband negotiating with his wife in such a way. Of course, I’ve heard of the arrangements men make with their mistresses, but…

you’re not exactly…” She floundered and ended by saying lamely, “This is all very odd.”