Paradise Wild

  "And you're going to hell!" she yelled furiously. Real­izing she had no control over her temper, she whirled and ran from the house.

  If he thinks he's going to put a leash on me, he has lost his mind, she thought angrily as she ran along the walk in front of the house. He can't tell me what to do! He can't!

  Before Corinne reached the waiting carriage, Jared caught up with her and swung her around to face him. She was still too angry to be frightened and struggled to get away, losing her parasol and purse in the process.

  "Let go of me!" she screamed, beating at his chest with her free hand.

  "You're staying here, Corinne, until I decide what to do with you," he said coldly.

  "I will when you're in hell!"

  Corinne tried kicking at him, but only succeeded in losing a shoe. Her hat fell off and her golden hair tumbled down into her face, momentarily blinding her. In the next instant, she found herself tossed up over Jared's shoulder, her glorious long hair hanging down to drag on the ground. Her breasts had hit against his hard back and the pain from the tender swelling was excruciating.

  "Help!" she suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs. "Help me!"

  "Be quiet, Corinne, before I really give you something to scream about," Jared hissed. "No one is going to come to your aid." To the driver who sat watching the scene in amusement, Jared ordered, "If my wife left anything in your carriage, bring it inside and I'll pay you for your trouble. She won't be needing your services anymore."

  Jared started back to the house. Corinne sank her teeth into him. She heard his yowl of pain and her satisfaction was so great that she didn't care what he did—until he tossed her to the floor.

  She fell just inside the door, bruising her shoulder as she landed. Jared stood over her with one hand pressed to his wound, his eyes smoldering.

  "You damned blood-thirsty vixen! I ought to thrash you for that!"

  "Go ahead," She cried defiantly. "It doesn't matter. You are already the lowest, vilest beast. Go ahead and beat me. See how much more I can hate you!"

  But when Jared reached down, she shrank away. He grasped her wrist and yanked her to her feet, then dragged her up the stairs.

  She held back with all her might when she saw the blood soaking the back of his shirt where she bit him. He would beat her for that, she knew he would. Was she really at his mercy because a piece of paper said she was his wife? Could he do anything he wanted to her and get away with it? The answer was terrifying.

  At the top of the stairs was a long corridor. Jared opened the door of the second room he came to and pushed her inside, then slammed the door shut and locked it from outside.

  Corinne pounded on the door. "You can't do this, Jared!" she screeched and pounded again.

  But he had done it. She heard him walk away. Swinging around, she looked at the room she found herself in. It took a few moments for her to calm down. She located a lamp and lit it.

  It was a large room, masculine in appearance, done in dark blues and browns, suede, leather, and heavy brocades. Jared's bedroom? She inspected further, carrying the lamp with her. A large armoire revealed a man's wardrobe— suits, shirts, robes, and shoes and boots along the floor. Another door led to the newest kind of bathroom, with a carved marble tub and a sink with crystal faucets.

  She caught her reflection in the mirror that covered one entire wall and gasped at her dishevelled condition. Her dress was wrinkled terribly, she had lost two buttons at the top of her bodice, her hair cascaded down her shoulders in a mess of tangles, and she wore only one shoe.

  The pain in her breasts was unbearable, and the pressure Corinne applied to stop the flow didn't help anymore. She hobbled back to the bathroom and locked the door from the inside.

  Every movement made her breasts throb and she slowly removed the top of her dress to let it hang to her waist. Gently, she squeezed the milk from her breasts. What a waste, she thought bitterly. She should be home with Mi­chael, feeding him this abundance of milk.

  The process was long and tiring, but eventually she found some relief, though not enough. She still needed Michael. By morning, she would need him desperately.

  Corinne bound her breasts tightly again and fixed her dress, then went back into the bedroom, taking the lamp with her. It was completely dark outside now. A cool breeze blew in through the open window. She went to stand there and let the fragrant air refresh her. Carriages passed on the street before her, filled with unknown people un­aware of her plight. She suddenly felt sick with apprehen­sion and exhaustion.

  Hours passed. Corinne sat in a comfortable stuffed chair by the window and waited. The headache she had had that morning returned. Her stomach grumbled, and her shoulder hurt. The longer she waited, the more she forgot her fear. Her anger grew to near bursting.

  When the door finally opened, it was all Corinne could do not to race at Jared and scratch his eyes out. He stood there with a tray of food in his hands, her lost shoe tucked under his arm, an unreadable expression on his face. "Are you hungry?"

  She didn't answer, but he brought the tray into the room anyway. "I would have come sooner, but I had a difficult time explaining that mess in the living room to Soon Ho."

  She showed no curiosity, but he explained anyway. "Soon Ho takes care of me here. He cooks, cleans the house. He's really remarkable."

  Corinne remained silent, seething. She watched his every move through narrowed eyes. After he set the tray down and tossed her shoe on the floor by the bed, he faced her, frowning sternly.

  "Are you just going to sit there killing me with your eyes, or will you come and eat?"

  Her sudden peal of deep, throaty laughter played on his nerves. "I wish to God my eyes could kill."

  "I'm sure you do," he said curtly and moved to light another lamp.

  Corinne stared at his back, noticing that he had changed his shirt. She also saw the faint outline of a bandage be­neath it. She hoped the wound pained him. Better still, she hoped it would get infected. Perhaps he would die of blood poisoning. The thought brought a wry smile to her lips.

  Jared sauntered back to the cherrywood table and picked at some fruit pieces in a bowl on the tray. Corinne frowned. Was he going to ignore her now?

  "You know you really can't keep me here, Jared," she said in a calm, practical tone.

  "Yes, I know," he answered coolly. "But you won't mind staying here just one night, now will you?"

  "What's the point, if I can go in the morning?"

  "You're not going in the morning. I agree I can't keep you here in this house. You would have to stay locked in this room indefinitely. In the morning, we will leave for the country."

  "The country?" she asked in alarm. "You mean the other side of the island?"

  "Yes. I can at least leave you there without worrying about you causing any more scandal. It's far enough from Honolulu to keep you out of trouble."

  "I won't go!"

  "I'm not giving you a choice, Corinne," Jared said calmly. She began to panic again. He was taking her away from her babyl

  "Look, Jared." She tried to keep the fear from her voice, but he could see it in her eyes. "I lied to you last night when

  I said I liked it here. I had already decided to leave. I was just too angry to admit it. Russell even went to the harbor today to see about a ship. The first one that sails, I will be on it."

  "It's too late for that, Corinne." He came to stand before her, his eyes inscrutable. "You had your chance to leave, but you refused."

  "What do you mean?"

  He smiled down at her. "I have decided I want you to stay after all."

  "Why?"

  "You came here to make a fool out of me and suc­ceeded," he said, his tone turning harsh, his own anger finally showing. "I didn't mind being known as the poor, deceived husband, because I didn't give a damn about you to begin with. But when it was said that I wasn't man enough to handle my wife, well, that went against the grain. And the one way to have gossip turn in my favor is to show th
at I've taken you in hand."

  "Do you really think people will believe you have for­given me?" she asked, thinking quickly.

  "A man could never forgive a wife who has whored as much as you have," he said cruelly, delighted to see her flinch. "But that has nothing to do with it."

  "Then what?"

  He put his hands on each each side of her chair and bent over her, trapping her there. "You carry my name. You should have remedied that. But since you didn't, you're going to be the model wife from now on."

  "You're insane!" she hissed, green fire in her eyes. "I will never do what you want, Jared. We were even, but you're tilting the scale again. Don't think I won't make you pay for it! I promise you I will!"

  He laughed and walked towards the door. "We'll see how much damage you can do isolated in the country."

  "You won't get me there!"

  "If I have to gag and tie you for the whole day's journey, I will," he warned her and closed the door, turning the lock firmly once again.

  Chapter 24

  JARED tilted the bottle of rum and took a long drink. He had gone through half the bottle since he had left Corinne in his room. But it didn't help to drown out the pounding going on upstairs that he was trying desperately to ignore. When the devil would she settle down?

  He sat at his desk, pen in hand, trying to compose a letter to Leonaka explaining about his wife, explaining that he would be gone for a few days. The right words wouldn't come. There was just too much to tell.

  Corinne's baggage from the carriage had been placed in the corner of the room, along with the things she had dropped in the yard. Jared's eyes kept straying to the corner. A large case, a small one, and a single hat box was all. It didn't seem to be enough. He just couldn't picture his stylish wife traveling with so few belongings.

  He took another swig of rum and got back to the letter. Soon Ho would deliver it in the morning. In the end, it turned out to be just a short note leaving Leonaka in charge while he was gone. He didn't say anything about his wife.

  An hour later, the bottle empty, and Jared was pacing the room like a frustrated animal. The pounding upstairs had stopped. Was she sleeping?

  Her baggage still drew his attention and curiosity. He finally went to examine the contents and was even more puzzled than before when he found only two dresses and some underthings in the large case, powders, rouge, and perfumes in the smaller case, and just one hat in the hat box. Where were the jewels she had mentioned earlier? Or the dress she had worn last night?

  He knew the answer. These things had come from the hotel, that's why she had them with her. The rest of her clothes must be at that house up in Punchbowl, where Drayton stayed. So she had obviously spent a good deal of time there. Somehow the thought of her living with the man she seemed to love was worse than her bedding count­less strangers at her hotel. But for the life of him, Jared couldn't explain why.

  Jared looked up at the ceiling, knowing she was just above him. For a moment he considered going up there and having his way with her. She wouldn't like that. She had shown the whole island that she preferred any man except the one she married. He started towards the stairs, then stopped abruptly.

  What was the matter with him? Corinne was the last woman he wanted. She had used her body for revenge against him, had purposely let other men have her, not because she wanted them, but just to even a score. He wouldn't touch her, no matter how damnably desirable she might be. She meant nothing to him.

  "So why don't I just let her go and be done with it?" he asked himself aloud.

  Jared went back into the living room and hunted out an­other bottle of rum, then dropped down on the sofa. After a few careless swallows he wiped his lips and his eyes re­turned once again to Corinne's few possessions. She would need more clothes than that to get by on. He would just have to stop by Drayton's house on the way to the country. He didn't like the idea of leaving his wife's things with her lover, anyway. But that would cause a problem, for no doubt Corinne would scream for Drayton's help.

  Well, he could solve that problem at least. It was still early enough. He would go to Drayton's house now.

  Jared grabbed his jacket and left the house. It was ten thirty when he stopped in front of the single-story house. Through curtained windows he could see light, so he knew Drayton was there.

  Jared's lips turned up slowly in a malicious grin. He hadn't realized how much he was going to enjoy this encounter. He moved a bit unsteadily up the walkway to the front porch, regretting the amount of liquor he had consumed. But even in his inebriated condition, he could tear Drayton apart. He just hoped he hadn't drunk so much that he wouldn't be able to remember tonight. It might be an entertaining evening.

  Before Jared pounded on the door he heard the sound of a baby crying from inside. He stepped back in con­fusion. Could he be so drunk that he had come to the wrong house? He went back into the yard and looked at the house again, then at the others along the street. No, camnit, he wasn't wrong. He marched up to the porch again and hammered on the door.

  Several minutes passed. The crying had stopped and Jared decided it must have been his imagination. He pounded on the door again and it opened, but only as far as a chain latch would allow.

  Jared narrowed his eyes when he saw the small woman looking out at him through the crack in the door. She couldn't be more than five feet two, with fuzzy brown hair and hazel eyes. She wasn't too much older than him­self, and she certainly didn't look like a housekeeper. Could Drayton be keeping more than one mistress?

  "Where is Drayton?"

  His tone was belligerent enough to make the woman's eyes grow round, but she obviously felt confident behind the latched door, for she answered spunkily, "He's not here and neither is Corinne. So you can just go away, Mr. Burkett. You're not welcome here."

  She started to close the door, but Jared stuck his booted foot into the crack. "You know me?"

  "Of course I know you. I was in the church the unfor­tunate day you married my Cori."

  "What do you mean, your Cori?" he demanded.

  "I've taken care of Corinne since she was five years old. I'm her maid, Florence Merrill."

  Jared laughed heartily at the foolish assumption he had made earlier, but then a thought struck him. "What in the name of Hades are you doing here?"

  "That's none of your business," she replied tartly.

  "Open the door, Florence Merrill." His voice had lowered. "I want to talk to you."

  "Oh no." She shook her head stubbornly. "Corinne wouldn't want you in her house when she's not here."

  Jared's muscles tensed and his brows drew together dangerously. "I thought this was Drayton's house. You mean to say he's been living off my wife?"

  "She's paid his way, yes. She insisted on it," Florence explained quickly. "Corinne doesn't like to feel obligated to anyone."

  "And did my dear wife pay for her other lovers as well?" Jared asked scornfully.

  "You know why she came here, Mr. Burkett. She felt she had good reason—"

  "Don't you dare defend that whore to me!" Jared cut her off fiercely. "Now open this damnable door immediately before I tear it down!"

  "No," Florence managed, though timorously. "You have no right—"

  "The hell I don't!" he growled and stepped back for one solid kick against the door.

  The chain latch broke easily, and the door slammed back against the wall. Florence had moved out of the way. Horrified, she watched Jared step into the house and begin looking around.

  "So this is the little love nest, eh?" he remarked acridly. "Not as luxurious as the Royal Monarch Hotel. In fact, it's downright homey." He turned icy gray eyes on the frightened woman. "No comment, Florence Merrill?"

  "I—I told you I'm alone, Mr. Burkett," she stammered. "What do you want here?"

  "I want Corinne's things, all of them. You can start packing them right now."

  "I couldn't!" she gasped. "I really couldn't. Corinne will be furious. She—"

  "??
?she will be grateful," he finished for her. "You see, Corinne is with me. And she will be staying with me for an indefinite period of time."

  "No! I don't believe you!" Florence replied. "Cori would never agree to that!"

  Jared laughed derisively. "You're so right. She's quite against it, in fact. But what she wants doesn't matter. I'm her husband and I've made the decision for her."

  Florence was aghast. The man was within his rights! Now she understobd why Corinne hadn't come home.

  "Where is Corinne now?"

  "She's at my house in the city."

  "Are you sure she will be there when you retum7" Florence asked doubtfully.

  "You know her well, don't you?" Jared chuckled, though with little humor. "1 made sure she'll be there. She's locked in my room."

  "Mr. Burkett!"

  "Never mind telling me how cruel you think I am," he said coldly. "It was necessary, and it is only for tonight. In the morning I am taking her to my beach house on the other side of the island where I won't have to worry about her." Suddenly he looked at Florence thoughtfully. "I suppose I should offer to take you along for Corinne's sake. I'm sure she would like having a friend with her. There are other women there, but I doubt they will take to my hot-tempered wife."

  Florence found herself in a quandary. If she went along, Jared would see Michael. The baby was sleeping right now and not drawing attention to himself. Would Corinne want her to take the risk of letting her husband see the baby? She could use the story they had worked out earlier.

  Jared spoke again when she didn't agree readily. "If you would rather not go with Corinne, I could pay your way back to the mainland."

  "Maybe that would be better," Florence said reluctantly, praying she was making the right decision.

  Jared shrugged. "That's up to you, Miss Merrill."

  "It's Mrs. Merrill," she lied just in case she needed the story they'd made up. "And if you'll sit down and wait, I'll get Cori's things together."

  She went off to Corinne's bedroom, a deep frown creas­ing her brow. Lord, why was this decision placed in her lap? If only she could talk to Corinne first. She abhorred the thought of leaving Corinne behind with the one man she hated above all others. But she had been so adamant about not wanting Jared to see his son.