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fear, she felt her own anger festering inside her. For so many years she had tried to

make up for the divorce her father had somehow forced. She knew he took the blame

for it. Just as her mother vowed complete innocence. She was beginning to wonder if

either of them would ever tell her the truth.

“You’ll end up just like him,” Ella accused, her eyes narrowing hatefully.

Tess could only shake her head.

“I’ll be home in a week, Mother,” she said, picking up her luggage.

In the back of her mind, she knew she would not be returning though. She had

stayed out of guilt and out of fear of failing somehow in her mother’s eyes. She was

only now realizing, she could never succeed in her mother’s opinion though. She was

fighting a losing battle. A battle she didn’t want to win to begin with.

* * * * *

Tess was still trembling when she pulled into the large circular driveway of her

father’s home. The shadows of evening were washing over his stately Virginia mansion,

spilling long shadows over the three-story house and the tree shrouded yard. The drive

from New York wasn’t a hard one, but her nervousness left her feeling exhausted. She

definitely wasn’t up to facing Cole. Her face flushed at the thought. She had tried not to

think about the phone call that morning, or the core of heat it had left lingering inside

her.

It had nearly been enough to have her turning around several times and heading

back to her safe, comfortable life in her mother’s home. She would have too, until she

thought of her mother. Ella was too frightened of the world to draw her head out of her

books and see the things she was missing. She had lost her husband years before their

divorce because of her distaste of his sexual demands. She told Tess often how

disgusting, how shameful she found sex to be.

Tess didn’t want to grow old, knowing she had passed up the exciting things in life.

She didn’t want to ache all her life for the one thing she needed the most and passed up.

But she didn’t want her heart broken. And Tess had a feeling Cole could break her

heart.

She wanted him too badly. She had realized that in the past months. The dreams

were driving her crazy. Dreams of Cole tying her to his bed, teasing her, touching her,

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his dark voice whispering his sexual promises to her. She was awaking more and more

often, her cunt soaked, her breathing ragged, a plea on her lips.

Tess had known he was bad news even before her father married his sister. His eyes

were too wicked, his looks too sensual. He was wickedly sexy, sinfully sensuous. She

moaned in rising excitement and fear.

Leaving her keys in the ignition for the butler to park it, Tess jumped from the car.

Night was already rolling in, and she would be damned if she would sit out in that car

because she was too scared to walk into the house. Hopefully, Cole wouldn’t be there.

He wasn’t always there.

“Good evening, Miss Delacourte.” The butler, a large, burly ex-bouncer opened the

door for her as she stepped up to it.

Thomas was well over fifty, Tess knew, but he didn’t look a day over thirty-five. He

was six feet tall, heavily muscled and sported a crooked nose and several small scars on

his broad face. He was Irish, he said, with a mix of Cherokee Indian and German

ancestry. His thick, brown hair was in a crew cut, his large face creased with a smile.

“Good evening, Thomas. Is Father in?” She stepped into the house, more

uncomfortable than she had thought she would be.

This was the home she had grown up in, the one she had raced through with the

puppy her father had once bought her, but her mother had gotten rid of. The home

where her father had once patched skinned knees and a bruised heart. The home her

mother had taken her out of when her father demanded his rights as a husband, or a

divorce.

“Your father and Mrs. Delacourte are out for the evening, Miss,” he told her as she

stepped into the house. “Will you be staying for a while?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “My luggage is outside. Is my room still available?”

There was an edge of pain as she asked the question. She had learned that Missy

had opened her room for guests, rather than keeping it up for Tess’s infrequent returns.

“I’m sorry, Miss Tess,” Thomas said softly. “The room is being redecorated. But the

turret room is available. I prepared it myself this morning.”

The turret room was the furthest away from the guest or family bedrooms. At the

back of the house, on the third floor. The turret had been added decades ago by her

grandfather and she had loved it as a child. Now she resented the fact that it was not a

family room, but the one she knew Missy used for those visitors she could barely

tolerate. Evidently, Tess thought, she had slipped a few notches in her stepmother’s

graces.

Tess breathed in deeply. Those weren’t tears clogging her throat, she assured

herself. Her chest was tight from exhaustion, not pain.

“Fine.” She swallowed tightly. “Could you have my luggage brought up? I need a

shower and some sleep. I’ll see Father in the morning.”

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“Of course, Miss Tess.” Thomas’ voice was gentle. He had been with the family for

as long as she could remember and she knew she wasn’t hiding her pain from him.

“Is Father happy, Thomas?” she asked him as she paused before going down the

hall to the hidden staircase that led to the turret room. “Does Missy take care of him?”

“Your father seems very happy to me, Miss Tess,” Thomas assured her. “Happier

than I’ve seen since Mrs. Ella left.”

Tess nodded abruptly. That was all that mattered. She moved quickly down the

hall, turning toward the kitchen then entering the staircase to the right. The staircase led

to one place. The turret room.

It was a beautiful room. Rounded and spacious, the furniture had been made to fit

the room exactly. The bed was large with a heavy, rounded walnut headboard that sat

perfectly against the wall. Heavy matching drawers slid into the stone wall for a

dresser, with a mantle above it to the side of the bed. Across the room was a small

fireplace, the wood was gas logs, but it was pretty enough.

She felt like Cinderella before the Prince rescued her. Tess sat down heavily on the

quilt that covered the bed. This sucked. She should get back in her car and head straight

back home where she belonged. She didn’t belong here anymore, and she was

beginning to wonder if she ever had.

Taking a deep breath, she ran her hands through her hair and listened to Thomas

coming up the stairs. He stepped into the room with a friendly smile, but his brown

eyes were somber as they met hers.

“Will you be okay here, Miss Tess?” he asked her as he set the large suitcase and

matching overnight bag on the luggage rack beside the door. “I could quickly freshen

another room.”

“No. I’m fine, Thomas.” She shook her head. What was the point? She had come

back, mainly to find something that didn’t exist. It was best she learn that now, before it

went any further.

Thomas nodded before going to the fireplace. With practiced moves he lit the gas

fire, then pulled back and nodded in satisfaction at the even heat coming off the ceramic

logs.

“Would you like me to announce dinner for you, Miss Tess?” he asked.

Her father and stepmother were away. Tess knew the servants would only be

preparing their own food. She shook her head. They were all most likely anticipating a

night to relax, she wouldn’t deprive them of that. What hurt the most was her father’s

absence. He had known she was coming, and he wasn’t here. It was the first time he

had ever left, knowing she was coming home. The first time Tess had ever felt as

though she were a stranger in her own home.

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* * * * *

One thing Tess really liked about the turret room was the bathroom. The huge room

was situated to the right of the bed, and held a large sunken tub big enough for three

and a fully mirrored wall. Thomas had stocked the small refrigerator unit against her

objections. One of his little surprises was a bottle of her favorite white wine. Tess

opened it, poured a full glass and sipped at it as the water ran into the large ceramic

tub. Steam rose around the room, creating an ethereal effect with the glow of the

candles she had lit.

She stripped out of her jeans and T-shirt and setting the wineglass and bottle on a

small shelf, sank into the bubbled liquid. Exquisite. She leaned back against the hand

fashioned back of the tub and rested her head on the pillowed headrest. It was

hedonistic. A wicked, sinful extravagance, as her mother would have said.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had expected her father to be home,

had expected some sort of greeting. She didn’t expect to be left on her own. But the

sinful richness of the bathtub eased a bit of the hurt. She could enjoy this. This one last

time.

She hadn’t come home without ulterior motives, she knew. Perhaps this was her

payment for it. It wasn’t her father that had drawn her so much as the man that she

knew would arrive sooner or later.

Cole. She took a deep breath, flushing once again at the memory of the phone

conversation. She could handle a little sex with him. It wasn’t like she was a virgin. It

was the rest of it. Cole didn’t go for just sex. Cole was wild and kinky and liked to spice

things up, she had heard. Heard. She whimpered, remembering his promise to tie her to

his bed and what he would do there.

She had never had rough sex, though she admitted, she had never had satisfying

sex either. It had never been intense enough, strong enough. The hardest climax of her

life had been in that damned hallway, with Cole’s fingers thrusting inside her cunt. She

had been so slick, so wet, that even her thighs had been coated with it.

Lifting the wineglass from the shelf, Tess sipped at it a bit greedily. Her skin was

sensitive, her breasts swollen with arousal, her cunt clenching in need. Dammit, she

should have found a nice, tame principal or teacher to satisfy her lusts with. Cole was

bad news. She knew he was bad news. Had always known it.

She had known Cole before her father had married his sister. She had heard about his

sexual practices, his pleasures. He was hedonistic, wicked. And sometimes, he liked to

dominate. He wasn’t a bully outside the bedroom. Confident, superior, but not a bully.

But she had heard rumors. Tales of Cole’s preferences, his insistence on submission

from his women. The comments he had made to her over the years only backed up the

rumors she had heard.

Tess trembled at the thought of being dominated by Cole. Equal parts fear and

excitement thrummed through her veins, her cunt, swelling her breasts, making her

nipples hard. She didn’t need this. Didn’t need the desire for him that she was feeling.

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Didn’t need the broken heart she knew he could deal her. She drained the wine from

her glass then poured another, realizing the effects of the drink were already beginning

to travel through her system. She felt more relaxed, finally. She hadn’t been this relaxed

in months. Enjoying the sensations, she poured another, hoping she would at least

manage a few hours of sleep tonight without dreaming of Cole.

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Tess came downstairs the next morning expecting to be greeted by her father. She

had dressed in the dove gray sweater dress he had sent her the month before. Tiny

pearl buttons closed it from the hem to just above her breasts. On her feet she wore

matching pumps and pearls at her neck. Confident and sure of herself, Tess felt able to

field her father’s questions, his urgings that she move back home for a while. When she

walked into the dimly lit family room, it was Cole she found instead.

She stood still, silent as she faced him across the room. His eyes, a brilliant blue and

filled with wicked secrets, watched her narrowly. Thick, black lashes framed the

brilliant orbs, just as his thick, black hair framed the savage features of his face. His

cheekbones were high, sharp, his nose an arrogant slash down his face. His lips were

wide, and could be full and sensual or thin with anger. Now, he seemed merely curious.

His arms were crossed over his wide, muscular chest, his ankles crossed as he stood

propped against the back of a sectional couch that faced away from her.