Just For Her. Katherine O' Neal. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Katherine O' Neal
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Исторические любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780758233509
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this train of thought. “If you must know, Hudson would be incapable of living up to your allegations. He was injured in the war.”

      “How convenient for him.”

      She felt her temper flare. He was the only person she’d ever known who could anger her as he did. She’d been brought up to be seen and not heard, to hold her tongue even when she disagreed, to be pleasing and gracious and avoid confrontation at all costs. She knew how to be a princess, a hostess, a slave to duty. But she’d never learned how to be in the same room with DeRohan and keep her composure.

      “I’d naturally assumed that you’d stay at the Carlton,” she said to change the subject.

      “Why should I, when I have a perfectly good home right here?”

      “My home,” she corrected.

      “That, Juliana, depends on my good graces. Technically, you violated our agreement when you moved back to France, which means this house belongs to me. I could go to my solicitors and they would have the title out of your hands in five minutes flat. Everyone knows you’ve been living here. It’s easy enough to prove.”

      “I left London because you murdered someone near and dear to me. What decent woman wouldn’t?”

      “If you were a decent woman, you wouldn’t have had a lover, now, would you? Besides which, I murdered no one. I dispatched that sniveling bastard in a duel of honor.”

      “Honor!” she cried, losing her battle with self-control. “The best shot in London against a gentle soul who never fired a pistol in his life. You goaded him into that duel with the intent of murder and you know it.”

      “Did you really think I’d let you make a fool of me?” he snarled. “Allow everyone in town the spiteful pleasure of gossiping that my wife was tarting around on me? No, Juliana. I protect what I own.”

      “You don’t own me.”

      Calmly, almost as if he were moving in slow motion, DeRohan reached out and grabbed her arm, jerking her close and piercing her with an unflinching glare. “You fancy yourself independent because I’ve allowed you to run free for so long. But that’s an illusion that ends now. You came to me bought and paid for. Yes, I killed your precious Edwin. And I’d do it again. I will, in point of fact, destroy any man you foolishly choose to take up with. You may not warm my bed, but by God, you’ll warm no one else’s either. Know it, Juliana. Remember it.”

      Once again, despite her resolve, she tasted her fear of him. She swallowed, trying to dispel it, and said with all the dignity she could muster, “Take your hand off me.”

      For a moment, she thought he’d refuse. Then, just as abruptly as he’d taken hold of her, he dropped his hand and turned away.

      “I’ve come to tell you,” he said conversationally, “that your happy little sojourn has come to an end. I can see that I’ve been too lenient. I allowed you to live apart from me in London. I have courteously—some might say indulgently—given you time to lick your wounds. I’ve been as patient and understanding a husband as ever there was. But now my patience is at its end. From today forward, you’re going to start living up to your agreement. For the time being, I’m establishing my residence here. I have a specific mission that’s vital to me, and as it happens, I need your help.”

      “Help with what?”

      “Two years ago there was a revolution in Persia. The new leader—they call him the Shah—has voided all the country’s previous oil concessions. He’s shopping around for a new recipient for those concessions. I intend to be that recipient.”

      “Why oil?”

      “The man who gets those concessions and has the ships, as I do, to transport the oil around the world, will become the richest—and most powerful—European of the Machine Age.”

      “What do I have to do with that?”

      “It seems the Shah is an admirer of the fallen Habsburg Dynasty for the same reason the rest of the world hates it. A family that managed to rule most of Europe for more than six hundred years—two hundred years longer than Rome did. The fact that I have a Habsburg wife has intrigued the Shah enough that he’s agreed to come and discuss the possibility of a partnership. So you see, my dear, you will be an enormous help to me in the competition to acquire those unimaginably lucrative contracts.”

      “And if I tell him what a blackguard you really are?”

      “Don’t even joke about that. You don’t have any idea what I can do. Go out and ask some of my competitors just how unpleasant I can be when I’m crossed.”

      She believed him. There was a ferocity in his eyes she’d never seen before.

      “I want this,” he ground out. “I will have it. These contracts are more important to me than you are, but I need you in order to get them. So listen carefully to how things are going to be. Not only will I live in this house, I will be master of it. You will play the role of my devoted wife and helpmate, and will obey my every whim. Because if you don’t, you’ll lose the house and jewels you love so well.”

      “You’ve always wanted them,” she accused. “This house, the jewels. It isn’t enough that you took my father from me. But you’re not going to take them, too. You say you have a mission, well so do I. All you care about is raking in more and more money until you don’t even know how much you have. But I care about more than that. I’ve been given a sacred trust, to safeguard all that’s left of my family, of our old way of life, of everything we stood for. I swore to my father that I would protect the Habsburg name with my life. I even sold myself to you. All to keep the last meager remnants of what’s left to us. So don’t think I’m going to let you take them from me. You’ll have to kill me first.”

      “Then you had better start acting like the wife you agreed to be. Because you’re wrong, Juliana. I don’t have to kill you. All I have to do is assert my legal rights. So long as you play the role I dictate and stay in line, I shall keep the house and jewels in your name. But the minute you give me any trouble, I shall seize this house and level it into the rock heap it once was. And I’ll melt your precious jewels into scrap metal.”

      The reality of her situation had never been more plainly stated. If she’d had a knife in that moment, she’d happily have plunged it into his vile heart.

      “As soon as the bulk of my things are unpacked, I’ll be off for four nights on business. I suggest you use the time to think over what I’ve said. And get some rest. You’re looking a trifle ill, for all that you’re as brown as a gypsy. That won’t do. By the time the Shah arrives, I expect you to be looking your best. Thank God you haven’t bobbed your hair in that ridiculous fashion. That’s something, at least.”

      She was burning under his scrutiny. Between clenched teeth, she managed to ask, “Am I dismissed, then?”

      His gaze flicked over her. “For now.”

      She stormed off, racing through the house to the west wing and the sanctuary of her own apartment, slamming the door behind her. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Tears of anger, frustration, and fear of living under the thumb of this deranged sadist. She sank onto the velvet stool before her vanity and put her head in her hands on the table, wracked by sobs, her eyes stinging with hot tears. What would the rest of her life be like? How could she bear it, living under the same roof with him?

      But it wasn’t long before the helplessness was replaced by a growing sense of rage. She looked up, catching sight of herself in the vanity mirror. Her face looked pale, her eyes red and swollen, her blond hair falling in tangles about her shoulders. At least you haven’t bobbed your hair in that ridiculous fashion…

      In a fury, she rifled through the drawers until she found a pair of scissors. Grabbing a handful of hair, she began to hack at it with violent strokes. Again and again, until the carpet at her feet was littered with strands of severed golden hair. She looked again at herself in the mirror, surging with satisfaction, vindication, revenge. The face that