My Lady Captive by Shirl Anders Page B

then her tumultuous gaze collided with his.
    God, help him, she was everything in a woman
he could ever desire, Wyndham thought, as he uttered. “I cannot stand from this chair alone, Orèlan. My injured leg
will not hold my weight upright.”
    Her entire body trembled visibly with her
gaze locked onto his. Fear, embarrassment, and then anger flashed
across her gold irises. And then finally, the golden starlit chips
of determination lighted her gaze. He was humbled, and more in love
than he could ever have imagined in that moment. Then, Orèlan
lifted her stubborn diminutive chin, letting her gown tumble
downward in a pool about her feet. The crowd shouted lewd rabid
voices of approval as she kicked her gown to the side defiantly.
She was completely nude, except for her small green velvet
slippers.
    “Bravo!” Alexei laughed snidely, then he
lowered his voice for Wyndham and Orèlan’s ears. “The rest of the
markers if she fucks Angelo right there on the table!”
    “No!” Wyndham exclaimed harshly. He was
expended beyond his limit as he began to rise out of his chair
without thinking in his anger. He barely caught his gasp of pain as
he tottered, and then Orèlan moved to save his foolish hide.
    “My lover will not share his beautiful,
Orèlan!” she exclaimed with an outrageous feminine squeal of
delight. Then, she was beside him, grasping him with her arms,
steadying him as though they were embracing. It was enough to keep
him from falling flat on his face as he grappled with the pain
lancing through his leg.
    I will kill my golden puma, Orèlan
thought furiously. She would scratch his tough muscular hide into
little ribbons. She would . . . she would . . . Oh dios, she
loved him so much! She stood shaking with anger and love combined.
And her fear and embarrassment, as she tried to steady Wyndham with
her shivering naked body. She was, oh so foolish at times like
this, she thought, trying to catch her scattering emotions. Yet, it
was too late for her treacherous mouth. “My Wyndham will never want you, Alexei! You are a pig!” she cried at Alexei,
who had come toward them halfway around the table.
    Wyndham growled, an inarticulate exclamation
of warning to her, just as Alexei spat furiously. “You dirty little, puta!”
    Orèlan clutched Wyndham, steadying him with
her shoulder beneath his arm as she cringed at the threat in
Alexei’s voice. Madre dios . She watched horrified as Alexei
raised his hand sharply and gestured to two of his Russian guards.
“When I am through with you, you little Spanish slut, no one will
want you!” he hissed.
    Then suddenly, Wyndham shoved her away from
him, making her cry out in confusion as she stumbled backward.
Instinctively, her hands tried to cover her naked breasts and
between her thighs as her horrified gaze saw Wyndham collapse to
the floor with a sharp grunt of pain. Why had he done that? What
had he done? She did not understand, as she watched Alexei exclaim,
in obvious shock. Alexei nearly went down to his knees beside
Wyndham, but then he seemed to catch himself at the last moment, as
he uttered, “Khrisinan.”
    The Russian guards stood uncertainly behind
Alexei. Angelo behind them, beside the table, was hurriedly
grabbing his clothes. Orèlan fought the intense urge to go to
Wyndham, but succumb to the desperate need to retrieve her gown,
which she hurriedly picked up and at least clutched it in front of
her.
    She watched Wyndham raise his stark purple
irises to Alexei as his hands clutched his bad knee. “The woman is
mine!” Wyndham growled in a harsh rasp, glaring through pain-filled
eyes up at Alexei.
    Alexei sucked in a hissing angry breath. “You
are both mine!” he snapped with a sharp cutting motion of
his hand, and then he turned his blond head to a guard behind him.
“Take my guests, Lord Hawkenge and his woman, to my suite now!” he
ordered sharply. Then he straightened his stance and clapped his
hands to the crowd as he shouted, “Music!