Page 30 of Wild Hearts

Alarmed, he demanded, "What is it, what's amiss?"

"It's Tabrizia. Oh, my God, come!"

Really alarmed now that he knew who was in trouble, he pulled Alexandria toward him, took hold of her shoulders and shook her "Tell me quickly."

"She'll be drowned by now! Oh, we will be too late to save her," sobbed Alexandria.

Pictures rushed through his head as he ran toward the cliffs, followed by half a dozen of his men. Perhaps she had fallen over to the sea beneath. He could imagine her long red tresses tangled in seaweed, and sprinted forward with doubled speed. He stopped at the cliff edge by the path and scanned the water. There below stood the small figure, perfectly safe. He turned upon Alexandria savagely, "What the hell game is this?"

"It's no game, Paris. She cannot bear to be a prisoner any longer. She's going to drown herself." Alexandria's eyes brimmed with tears.

At that moment Tabrizia discarded her cloak and, stark-naked, began to walk to the water's edge:

He stood mesmerized for a moment, not believing that he was seeing her totally unclothed. Though at a great distance, her exquisite shape and creamy limbs were clearly outlined against the dark sea. Suddenly galvanized into action, he leaped down the sandstone path toward the forlorn figure. His heart had stood still when he thought she had come to harm. His throat actually closed with fear at the thought that she was desperate enough to go into the sea to escape him. The relief he felt when he saw her safe was so great, it threatened to overwhelm him. He was a man who had never experienced fear before, and now that it rose up within him, he denied it and masked it with anger.

Tabrizia walked as slowly as she could. She knew it would take a little while for Paris to climb all the way down the cliff. As the ocean closed over her bare limbs, the shock of the ice-cold sea made her gasp. She stopped short, trying to find the courage to go in up over her knees. Never before had she experienced anything this cold; not even the stone floors of the orphanage had numbed her to this extent. The waves were much stronger than she had ever dreamed. Her footing was practically nonexistent as the waves washed away the sand from beneath where she was standing. The tide knocked her over, and she fought to regain a foothold and keep her head above water.

Then she saw him. Miraculously, he had already reached the bottom of the cliffs and was descending upon her relentlessly. He was angry. In fact, she had never seen anyone in her life as angry as Paris was at this moment. She scrambled from the water to snatch up her cloak in the most undignified manner, then started to run up the beach. He didn't run after her, but the distance between them closed rapidly as he strode inexorably toward her.

He knew he must put such a fear into her that she would never again attempt anything so foolish. The undertow could have snatched her life in an instant, and there would have- been little he could do. He took the whip from his belt and snaked it toward her with a snap. The first time was to terrify her. The second lash almost closed about her bare ankles but took the hem of her cloak instead and literally whipped it from her.

She stood trembling before him, naked and totally vulnerable. The black anger now mixed with lust as his eyes, blazed down at her trembling lips and quivering breasts. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her deeply, allowing his emotions full rein. She pulled her mouth from his and screamed, but the wind snatched the scream from her lips and flung it out to sea. She was terrified to be naked with his hands upon her body. She almost wished she had gone into the sea; it would have been kinder to her. Blindly, she struggled against him, until he neatly pinned her arms to her sides with an iron-like grip. She could feel his hard shaft throbbing against her belly and knew that any moment now he was going to throw her down and ravish her. She had no strength to withstand him; he was like a raging tempest. She went limp in his arms and buried her face against his chest. Her body. trembled uncontrollably as she sobbed against him, seeking his warmth or a tiny spark of compassion. His hand unconsciously came up to gently caress the bright head pressed against his chest. He knew he was falling in love with her against his will. His anger rose up again, but it was directed at himself, not this lovely creature who made his heart turn over in his breast.

A cheer broke out from his men, who stood gaping from the clifftop. Doubly furious that she had bared her body before them, he snatched up the fallen cloak and wrapped her in it most urgently. He said between his teeth, "You will learn one thing this day, my lady. I detest and despise female tricks!"

He gripped her wrist and pulled her after him up the cliff path. She was winded by the rapid climb, which forced her to scramble up anyway she could. At the top, when they reached the castle yard, he pulled her away from the entrance to the Lady Tower and down past the moss-troopers' quarters to the blacksmith's shop.

Tabrizia was mortified that everyone she passed knew she was naked beneath the cloak. Paris reached up and took down manacles from the wall. "These will be too big for her ladyship. Custom fit them to her wrists."

She watched in horror as the blacksmith picked up tongs and set the manacles into the brazier. Paris picked up another set with long chains attached and broke them in half with his bare hands. "One of these is to go around her ankle. We'll make sure of our quarry this time."

She was sure the hot irons would burn and maim her for life, but the blacksmith plunged the metal into cold water. It hissed hideously, and steam rose from the bucket, along with a stench of hot iron that nauseated her. Tabrizia realized that the uncontrollable temper of a redhead was no myth. She bitterly regretted that she had done this thing. She had been an utter fool to goad him, knowing him as she did.

The thing that really alarmed her was his sensuality. His anger seemed to go hand in hand with his lust. Provoke his temper and you had an uncontrolled rampant male, who sooner or later would not be denied.

The blacksmith knew his job, for when he shackled her, the irons were only heavy, not hot as she had feared.

"How many keys?" demanded Paris.

"Two, milord."

"Melt one down while I watch. There will be only one key, and it will remain in my possession. That way my family cannot sneak to free you behind my back!" He took her directly to his chamber and manacled her to his bed. "You raved about being free as if you were a prisoner here, instead of a guest. Now you will taste what it is like to be a prisoner." The harsh treatment covered his true feelings. He wanted her safe, under his hand, where she could do herself no harm. She was so determined to be free of him, he knew she would escape if she could, and somehow the thought was unendurable to him. He spotted Alexandria hovering outside the chamber door. "I forbid you, all of you, to have any contact with her!" and he strode out fiercely.

She knew his bed was meant to be a symbol to her. She knew he would return to finish her subjugation. "Alexandria," called Tabrizia. There was no answer. "Alexandria! Get in here," shouted Tabrizia.

"Paris forbade me;" whispered, Alexandria.

"To hell with Paris," shouted Tabby, her anger bubbling to the surface. "I'm naked. Go and get me my clothes. I need shoes and stockings; my feet are freezing!"

Alexandria ran swiftly, making sure she wasn't observed, and was back in a few minutes with Tabby's clothes. The first problem was the black silk stockings. The first one went on fine, but the second had to be carefully threaded through the iron manacle before she could pull it up her Ieg. She slipped on the red leather slippers and asked for her garters.

"I couldn't find any," said Alexandria, looking over her shoulder in case Paris should reappear.

"Give me yours," demanded Tabrizia, her anger and urgency climbing with every second. The garters had pink rosettes on them, but her predicament blinded her to their prettiness. "Mary and Joseph, I can't put on any of my clothes! Oh, no, no, this cannot be happening. Alexandria, I can't put my arms or legs through any of my clothes so long as I am chained to the bed." Her eyes blazed in her frustration.

"Well, you look most fetching," offered Alexandria.

"For God's sake, please find me something to wear before he returns. You are to blame for this as well as I, damn it!"

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