A Secret Love (Cynster 5)

He shook her again, just enough to let her feel his strength and how puny hers was pitted against it. "Family honor-bah! You can forget all concerns about that. You'll have more than enough to concern yourself with, with what I've got planned for you."

The pure malice in his snarl seized her; Alathea fought down her fear. Some fleeting flare must have shown in her eyes-his demeanor changed in an instant, the change itself so quick it was frightening. "Oh-ho! Like that, is it?" Eyes gleaming, he shoved her against the wall. "Well, then, let me tell you what I've planned."

He leaned closer; Alathea fought not to turn her head away, forced herself to meet his black gaze without a single flinch. He was breathing heavily, rather too fast even given his bulk. She had a nasty suspicion he was one of those men who found fear in others arousing.

"First," he said, enunciating each word, his eyes locked on hers, "I'm going to use you. Not once, but as many times as I wish, in whatever way I wish."

He looked down at her breasts, at the ivory mounds so enticingly displayed by her rich gown. Alathea felt her skin crawl.

"Oh, yes. I've always had a hunger to taste a real, bred-to-the-bone lady. An earl's eldest daughter will do nicely. Afterward, of course, even if you live, I'll have to strangle you."

You're mad. Alathea swallowed the words. His voice had deepened and slowed, slurring slightly. He continued to gaze at her breasts. She tried hard not to breathe deeply, but her pulse was racing, her mouth dry, her lungs laboring.

"Mind you"-his tone was that of one pondering aloud-"I suppose I could sell you to slavers if you survived. You'd fetch a good price along the Barbary Coast. They don't see many white bints as tall as you, but…" He drew the word out, head tilting as he considered. "If I wanted to get a good price, I'd need to be careful not to mar the goods too obviously. That's hardly fun. And I would never be one hundred percent certain the threat was gone. No." Shaking his head, he raised his eyes to hers.

They were flat, bottomless, utterly without feeling. Alathea couldn't breathe.

His face a malignant mask, Crowley stepped back, hauling her away from the wall. "I'll get rid of you after I've had my fill. That way I won't need to exercise the least care in taking you." Abruptly changing directions, he thrust his face into hers. "A fitting punishment for your meddling."

With a leer and a laugh that echoed manically, he started along the corridor, dragging her behind him. "A fitting punishment, indeed. You can join your friend Struthers on the morning tide."

Alathea dug in her heels. "Struthers?" Throwing her weight against Crowley's pull, she managed to jerk him to a halt. "You killed Captain Struthers?"

Crowley scowled. "You think I'd let him go with all the information he had?" He snorted and pulled her on. "The captain has caught his last tide."

"He had information that threatened you, so you simply killed him?"

"He got in my way. People do disappear. Like him. Like you."

Alathea scratched at the hand locked about her wrist. "You're crazed! I can't just disappear. People will notice. Questions will be asked."

He threw back his head and laughed. The concentrated evil in the sound shook Alathea as nothing else had. The laugh ceased abruptly; Crowley's head snapped around. His black gaze pinned her. Unable to help herself, she shrank against the corridor wall.

"Yes." The word was vicious. Crowley rolled it on his tongue and smiled. "People will indeed notice. Questions will indeed be asked. But not, my beauty, the questions you think." He stepped closer, crowding her against the panelling, the gloating she'd noted before more pronounced. "I did a little checking of my own." His voice had lowered. Raising a hand, he went to caress her cheek. Alathea jerked her head away.

A second later, his hand closed like a vise about her jaw. Fingers biting cruelly, he forced her face to his. "Perhaps," he rasped, his gaze falling to her lips, "I'll keep you alive long enough to see it-what's going to hap

pen to your precious family and who everyone will think is to blame."

He paused. His very nearness made Alathea feel faint. She tried not to breathe deeply, to smell his smell. The sheer bulk of him closed in on her. Her head started to spin.

His lips curved. "Your disappearance is going to coincide with the calling in of the promissory notes. I can guaiantee your family is going to be beating off the bailiffs almost immediately. They'll be in turmoil. No one will know where you are, or what to make of your disappearance. All the precious ton will see is your family thrown out of their home in rags and you nowhere in sight." His gloating deepened. "I've heard there are offers in the wind for your sisters. Those offers will evaporate. Who knows?" He pressed closer, his gaze locking with hers; she felt the panelling hard against her spine. "If I enjoy breaking you, I might just send some 'gentlemen' I know to make an offer for your sisters. All three of them."

Alathea's temper erupted. "You blackguard!" With the full force of her arm, she slapped him.

Crowley swore and jerked back, hauling her arm up, pulling her off balance. Alathea screamed. He clapped a hand to her mouth and she kicked him.

That hurt her; the pain only infuriated her more and lent her strength. Swearing viciously, Crowley let go of her arm and caught her around the waist. She jabbed him in the ribs. He juggled her, then locked his beefy arms around her, trapping her with her back to his chest. Half lifting her, he bundled her down the corridor.

Toward the open door at the end.

Alathea wriggled and squirmed. No use. The man was as strong as an ox. She kicked back with her legs, but that was worse than useless. Dragging in a panicked breath, she thought back to her days of fighting with two young sprigs who had always been taller than she.

Gulping in another breath, she stretched and reached back. She grabbed Crowley's ears and tugged as hard as she could.

He howled and jerked his head back. Her nails scored his cheeks.

"Bitch!" His voice grated in her ear. "You'll pay for that. For every last scratch."