Chapter 4

IT WASN'T BLAKE'S nature to oversleep. He had spent the better part of the night lying awake in bed thinking about what Gabriel had revealed to him. If what the older man said was true, then Blake had much more on his plate than simple revenge. In discovering the truth about the conspiracy against his father, he lost everything he knew to be true about himself. Unknowingly, his father had left him the impossible task of restoring a deposed line to the throne. Now, Blake had the added task of raising an infant son to a role that he, himself, didn't understand.

Blake considered approaching Lichtus and asking the loyal butler if he knew anything regarding a miscarriage prior to his father Sebastian's birth, but whether Lichtus confirmed or denied it, it no longer mattered. What mattered was that Gabriel believed it and after what happened when Blake touched the Royal Scepter, the rest of the families would too.

Gabriel now had the additional card of revealing this information to the rest of the families. As the minutes of the night dragged on, Blake finally saw the beauty in Gabriel's plan to target him with Melody Balan. Gabriel had always intended to place a puppet on the throne.

After Blake finally managed to nod off momentarily, Lichtus knocked on his door to inform him that Melody Balan was here to see him. He could barely believe that the sun was already up. As Blake hurriedly threw a shirt on, he saw a young man in the mirror that looked nothing like Sebastian Thorne. In appearance and his conniving nature, he was always more of a Winther. There was a period when he was a naive teenager when he dyed his hair red to look more like his father. Now, his hair was ash-blond again, like his late mother's.

As Blake took notice of the gold Griffin Ring on his finger, he supposed he was past the point of wishing he took more after his father's family. It was time to forget the past. Although he was only twenty-six, he felt as though he was at an age now that he was able to reflect on and regret the past. He was so distracted by his own thoughts, that Blake stepped outside his bedroom with his shirt barely buttoned up. Apparently, Lichtus had invited their guest inside to wait in the sitting room. Vivienne lifted an eyebrow to see his hair tousled and cuff buttons open.

"Did I wake you?" She asked, a wistful smile appearing on her lips. "You were always an early riser. I wanted to catch you before you left."

This was not at all how he imagined their meeting would go. Blake felt vulnerable in his state of half-dress. Over the past year, he had often imagined what he would say to her when he finally saw her again. There were the times that Blake imagined screaming at her, walking away from her, strangling her. Somehow, he always knew that when he really stood before her again, he would do none of the above. He just stood there and blankly stared at her like an idiot.

"No, Melody," he said, coldly.

"Don't call me Melody," she said as she walked past him and removed her coat. Underneath, she was wearing a skimpy black silk dress that hugged her curves. So, she had come to seduce him. He wouldn't expect anything less from Melody Balan. She handed the coat to one of his servants and approached him with a lustful saunter. "Call me Vivienne."

"Why?" He asked, feeling a smirk appearing on his lips even though fury raged inside him. How dare she ask him to call her by that name, it was like she was driving a dagger into his heart.

"Because," she said as she moved closer, close enough for him to smell the familiar scent of her. Her skin gave off notes of absinthe, jasmine, and hints of the morning forest. She peered at him shyly with her chin tilted downward, in a way that always made him forget everything else. "That's who I am."

"Stop it," he whispered under his breath. Vivienne moved even closer, pressing her body against his, her leg stroking the side of his thigh. Her soft lips brushed against his. Before he could stop her, she began to kiss him, inhaling him, her mouth sucking at his tongue with the force of her desire. Clearly, his barely restrained fury didn't frighten her. In fact, he was starting to wonder if his rage was arousing her.

"Do you really want to stop?" she whispered and drew back. Vivienne stared at him with amusement in her eyes. Then she took a step back and ripped his shirt open. That did it. He abandoned all restraint and picked her up, carrying her into his bedroom. He threw her down in his bed like a rag doll. Despite everything that had happened, at that moment he could only think of how much he missed holding her. As he placed his hands around her waist and began to kiss her neck, Vivienne wriggled out of his arms.

"You're hurting me."

He reluctantly stopped. Rolling over onto his back, he laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. He noticed Vivienne was breathing heavily with a grimace on her face. His eyes drifted onto her back, and he noticed a linear cut on her skin by her ribs. Reaching out with one hand he tugged the back of her dress down, exposing her lower back. There were three scars stretching across the length of her back. The cuts had been deep, and the injured skin was still in the process of healing. He finally understood why when he grabbed her around the waist she had recoiled from him. He felt a different kind of anger rising within him.

"What happened to you?"

"I lost a fight," she whispered back and pulled her dress back up, covering herself.

"With what? A Wolverine?" Blake growled and grabbed her arm. "Did your father do this to you?"

She glared at him and yanked her arm out of his grasp. "Don't say that about him. My father is only trying to help you." She began to straighten up her dress and smooth back her hair. He noticed she was skinnier than he remembered; the angles of her cheekbones were more severe and less childlike. She had lost some of the softness in her hips, and her ribs were featured prominently under her pale skin.

"Help me?" Blake asked, finally allowing the rage to sweep into his voice. "Were you trying to help me too when you abandoned me that night a year ago on the helicopter pad?"

"I didn't abandon you-you jerk," she snapped. She knelt back down on the bed and settled herself against his bare chest. He saw her eyes focused on his hand. Her eyes lingered over his wedding band that he had never removed. Blake flexed his hand and placed it behind his head. "The past doesn't matter. From now on, you have to be more careful, for the sake of our son."

"Do you love him, this foreign duke of yours?"

"No, of course not. How can you ask me that? You know better than anyone what these people are like with their marriages. It's all politics. I can't just walk away. The Nivarrins will kill you, my father and so many others."

She sighed and placed her hand on his chest. "Let me deal with them. Stay out of it." As her bare skin pressed up against his, he felt a stirring in his loins. Although he was able to clear his mind of vulgar thoughts, clearly, his groin had a mind of its own. Even now, with all that was going on, he was barely keeping his arousal at bay. Maybe she was right, and it was his fault she had managed to overpower him that night a year ago.

"How about this — did you ever love me?"

"Really, Blake?" She asked, her pale eyes suddenly flashing with rage. "All right, I'll tell you how much I care for your well-being as soon as you tell me about your plot to kill me."

He sighed. "Oh, enough already. If I actually wanted to kill you, I wouldn't go flaunting it all around town."

"That's disappointing," Vivienne said as she continued to glare at him. She crossed her arms firmly over her chest. "I was looking forward to seeing you try."

"Is Gabriel keeping you and our son prisoner?"

"No," Vivienne said. "Orion is safe at Cairn for now. He has his nursemaid and his servants. It might be better for you to leave him there until you have a better understanding of the situation. My father wants to talk to you. He wants to meet with you in Cairn tonight."

"To discuss what?" Blake asked. "I'm not going to go running to cater to his every whim. If he wants anything from me, he had better give me something in return."

"Blake," Vivienne said with a sigh. "Please, don't make this difficult."

He sat up and stroked her silky hair. Wrapping his fingers around the nape of her neck, he caressed her soft skin with his thumb. He could have snapped her neck at that precise moment. She didn't look frightened. She closed her eyes and smiled at his touch. He could never stay angry at her. She knew exactly how to break down his resolve.

"I'll speak to him," Blake finally said. "Stay here with me," he whispered to her. "You say you're not his prisoner. If that is true, then don't go back to him."

"I can't."

"Then why did you come today?" Blake asked, narrowing his eyes. "This is all part of Gabriel's plan, isn't it?"

She studied him in silence. He noticed that the sadness never left her eyes now. It wasn't the temporary sorrow of a girl taken from her home for the first time that he had seen in her eyes at the masquerade. Now, the sadness in her eyes spoke volumes about the horror she had borne witness to. It was a dark, haunted look that never left her, not even when she smiled. Blake began to wonder if she could ever be the girl he had known, or if she was truly and completely Melody Balan.

"I want to be with you," she finally said. "I want that more than anything. If you take me back, you risk everything."

"Isn't that what your father wants from me? For me to risk everything for you?"

She didn't answer.

Once again, the scars on her back crept into his mind. It didn't make sense that Gabriel would do that to her. Scarring her like that would make her more difficult to whore out. Blake wrapped his arm around her waist, gently this time. He tried to keep his voice calm and patient, but he doubted that he was fooling anyone into believing he wouldn't kill whoever did this to her with his bare hands. "If you won't tell me about your father then at least tell me what happened to you. You know it drives me crazy not to know."

"I know," she said. "But I can't tell you."

He sighed, again. Vivienne was always especially gifted at giving him a splitting headache.

"Was it your fiancé?" He asked, no longer trying to suppress his temper. "Are you protecting him? Your father must love him for it. Maybe, my error was not beating you into submission. "

"Stop it, you idiot! It wasn't Mighell." Vivienne snapped. "He's a spineless rat. He would sell me for some pocket change, but he wouldn't dare do this to me," she chuckled to herself, angrily. "Would you like a night with me? I heard he's still taking bids." Blake heard the dripping malice in her voice. At least, he finally drew a genuine reaction out of her.

"I have better things to do with my money," Blake said, tersely. He stood up and showed her the door. "You can go home and tell your father I'm not leaving Cairn tonight without you. Go pack your things — that is — if you have any."

Vivienne rolled her eyes at him. She slipped out of bed and straightened her dress. Looking around, Vivienne found one of her heels that had been thrown under the bed when he had tossed her onto the bed. Comically, holding the shoe in one hand, she stood up on her bare tip-toes to meet him at eye level. A small smile appeared on her lips as she stared at him, her eyes trailing down to his lips again. "I wish I could tell you how much I missed you."

There it was again; she was using her wiles on him. Blake seized her by the hips and forced her up against him. He clenched his jaw in rage as he dug his fingers into the soft curve of her waist. Caressing the arch of her back through the fabric of her dress, he imagined himself teaching her a lesson about betrayal. She smiled mischievously as her pelvis came in contact with his. She folded her arms under her as she pressed herself closer. She seemed innocently unaware that the softness of her breasts crushed against his chest was driving him mad.

"Stop it. You should be afraid of me."

She laughed as she pushed herself off him. She strolled into the other room to look for her other shoe. As she dressed by the mirror in the entranceway, Vivienne tossed her hair back and giggled. "Or you'll do what, Lord Thorne? Spank me?"

"I miss the days when you used to run from me in fear," Blake said as he slammed the door behind her.