The Frenchman's Captive Wife. Chantelle Shaw

a mixture of pain and fear filled her eyes. ‘You can’t have him.’

      ‘On the contrary, chérie, I already have him. It’s up to you whether you come, too. Personally speaking, you can rot in hell,’ he told her savagely. ‘I would enjoy watching you burn in the eternal flames, but for his sake I suggest you get in the car.’ Abruptly he released the catch and opened the door while she stared wildly around the courtyard, searching for someone to help her.

      ‘There’s no way I’d allow you to take him without me,’ she vowed fiercely, and then gave a despairing cry as the coach began to move. ‘My luggage is on the coach. Enzo, wait!’

      Enzo must have caught sight of her frantic waving in his mirror and braked, but it took Emily precious minutes to drag her cases from the luggage compartment, and when she looked round, the limousine was already rolling forward.

      ‘You bastard, you knew I was coming,’ she sobbed as she yanked open the rear door and threw her cases into the footwell while Luc made no attempt to ask his chauffeur to halt. She was panting as she scrambled into the car and pulled the door shut after her. ‘I’ve a good mind to have you charged with kidnap,’ she snapped, and his sardonic smile told her he was as aware as she that she stood no chance of carrying out her threat. The trap was sprung. She was entirely at his mercy, she realised and trepidation filled her as, with a barely discernible snick, the door lock was activated.

      ‘Not kidnap,’ he murmured coolly as his gaze settled on her flushed face, ‘I prefer repossession. And I promise you, chérie, this time you will not escape!’

      CHAPTER TWO

      THE ATMOSPHERE INSIDE the car crackled with antagonism. Jean-Claude suddenly lost interest in his toys, stared unblinkingly at Luc and then back at Emily, his bottom lip wobbling.

      ‘It’s all right, Mama’s here. No one’s going to hurt you,’ she reassured him softly, stroking his cheek, and he turned his enormous, velvet grey eyes on her, his tears drying as his face broke into a smile that revealed his one solitary tooth. Luc was sitting on the other side of the baby seat and he stiffened at her words, outrage and bitter, corrosive anger filling him.

      ‘Of course I’m not going to hurt him,’ he snarled, aware of the necessity of keeping his voice low so that he did not frighten Jean-Claude. ‘What kind of barbarian do you think I am to suggest I would hurt my own son?’

      ‘You don’t want to know my opinion of you,’ Emily returned, her smile solely for Jean-Claude’s benefit, belying the venom in her voice. ‘You tried to drive off without me. Don’t you think that wrenching a young baby from his mother’s arms would hurt him?’

      ‘Don’t be so dramatic,’ Luc snapped impatiently. ‘You weren’t even with him. You’d abandoned him. What kind of mother does that make you?’

      ‘A damn good one, and I did not abandon him.’ Emily ran a shaky hand over her face as reaction set in. ‘He’s eleven months old, for heaven’s sake. How do you think he would cope without me? He needs me.’

      Luc surveyed her silently, his eyes raking disparagingly over her slender figure and she cringed, wishing she’d worn anything but her bright orange gypsy skirt and yellow strap top. With her hair caught up in a ponytail secured with a livid yellow band and the long, beaded earrings and necklace that one of the artists had made for her, she looked funky and modern, a complete antithesis of the sophisticated, elegant women Luc admired. Women like his PA Robyn Blake.

      ‘You’re not as indispensable as you like to think,’ he said icily. ‘He’d soon forget you and instead of a mother he will have a father. However,’ he continued, ignoring her fearful gasp, ‘I accept that it is in Jean-Claude’s best interests that you play a part in his life, for now at least.’

      ‘Meaning what exactly?’

      ‘Meaning that the situation is likely to change as he grows older but at the moment he is a baby and naturally depends on you. It is for that reason alone that I have decided to take you back,’ he informed her in his cold, clipped tones, and Emily’s eyes grew to the size of saucers.

      ‘Well, pardon me for not jumping for joy, but I don’t want to be taken back. I’m perfectly content with my life the way it is—without you in it. In fact,’ she stressed, ‘I’ve never been happier.’ As she spoke she made the mistake of looking at him and her face flamed as she felt her body’s involuntary reaction to his seductive charm. She didn’t want to feel like this. She didn’t want to be pierced by this overwhelming, almost obsessive sexual attraction, and the worst of it was, he was aware of his power over her.

      ‘I’m sure I can come up with a few ideas to keep you content,’ he drawled with an arrogant smile that made her want to scream or hit him, or both. ‘I don’t remember having any problems satisfying you when we were first married. In fact, chérie, after a night in my bed, you used to remind me of a cat who’d gorged on cream.’

      The last thing she needed was to be reminded of her total and utter weakness where he was concerned. One look from those flashing grey eyes and she had been putty in his hands, her body desperate to experience the ecstasy of his full possession. She had been little better than a sex slave, she thought disgustedly, and he had exerted his power over her ruthlessly, subjugating her to his will with shameful ease.

      Luc had to be playing a cruel game with her, she thought desperately. His insinuation that he knew he could keep her happy by sleeping with her was his despicable way of reminding her of her vulnerability where he was concerned. But she had changed during the year they had spent apart. She had grown up and taken charge of her emotions. With his incredible looks and raw, sexual magnetism, it wasn’t surprising that he had once had such a strong hold over her but she had broken free of his spell and she refused to be bewitched again.

      Jean-Claude was watching her and the beauty of his smile tore at her heart. He was innocently unaware of the bitterness that existed between his parents, a bitterness that would only fester if they were forced together again. At the moment he was just a baby, but as he grew older he would detect the signs that his parents detested one another and would surely be damaged by their antagonism.

      ‘This is ridiculous,’ she whispered huskily. ‘For our son’s sake, can’t we call a truce and aim for an amicable divorce instead of fighting over him? Surely the most important thing is to give Jean-Claude the best upbringing we can?’

      ‘I agree,’ Luc replied, his gaze clashing with hers, ‘which is why there will be no divorce. Our son deserves to be brought up by two parents who love him, even if they do not love each other,’ he continued, ignoring Emily’s shocked gasp. ‘You will remain my wife, chérie, for better or worse. And make no mistake,’ he warned her in a tone that gave some indication of his determination, ‘it will be a proper marriage, in every sense of the word.’

      ‘You can’t really expect me to…to sleep with you,’ Emily spluttered, outrage rendering her temporarily speechless as the full meaning of his words sank in.

      ‘Why not? Our marriage may have had its problems, but the sex was always good. You were the most responsive lover I’ve ever known,’ he told her, and she died a little at the way he could discuss something that had been so precious to her with such clinical detachment.

      ‘Well, you’ve known a lot so I’ll take your word for it but I’m afraid it’s not an experience I want to repeat.’

      ‘Is that so, ma petite?’ The sudden amusement in his voice fuelled her anger and she curled her fingers into fists so that her nails bit into her palms. ‘Time will tell, although not too much time, I hope. Patience isn’t one of my finer virtues.’

      ‘I’d rather kill myself than bear your touch again,’ she snapped with a shudder as she contemplated the certain humiliation that would follow if she ever lowered her guard against him. He inhaled sharply, a nerve jumping in his cheek as he stared at her.

      ‘Don’t joke about such things, especially as we both know that you’re lying,’ he ground