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only a matter of minutes before he completely undressed her and made her his. She also realized that he would take her whether she was willing or not.
    His teeth tugged at her nipples. She had to get away but must be careful.
    Pushing suggestively against him, she said, “Raoul, I’m not prepared for this. I’d like to attend to personal matters first.”
    His head shot up, and anger flared in his obsidian eyes. However, to her surprise, he sat up and leaned across the bed to a table for a cigar. Standing up, he lit it and inhaled deeply.
    â€œLet me know when you’re finished,” he said and withdrew to the sitting room.
    No sooner had he departed than Lianne shot bullet-like from the bed. She didn’t run toward the beckoning doorway, however, but inched her way to the knob and prayed the door hinges wouldn’t squeak.
    The huge door was very old, but the thought struck her that it might be locked. Her prayers began anew. But when she grasped the golden knob and pulled, the door opened a crack.
    She waited a second.
    A heady sense of relief filled her. Now to make it out of the palace before Raoul realized she had fled. As quietly as possible she opened the door further, her eyes darting to the doorway which separated the sitting room. The unmistakable scent of the cigar filled the apartment and smelled much closer than the next room.
    Lianne turned to exit through the door, but stopped still in her tracks to see Raoul leaning lazily against the doorjamb, the lighted cigar held casually in his hand. “Taking a midnight stroll, my little French tart?”
    The blood had so completely drained from her that she felt weak and almost fainted. He threw down the cigar on the marbled floor and pushed her wobbly body into the room where she sank onto the carpeted floor.
    â€œI told you I knew you well. It’s a pity that you couldn’t give yourself to me without going through this foolishness.” He bent down and grabbed a handful of hair which escaped from the pins. “You’ve a beautiful body, Lianne, but I must teach you who your master is. Believe me, I do hate to mar such unblemished perfection.” His right hand came up and slapped her harshly across the face. The stinging sensation brought back her survival instinct, and she realized how cowed she must seem as he towered above her. She decided that Raoul de Lovis wouldn’t have her without a fight.
    His hand loomed forward to strike her again, she seized it, and with a quickness which surprised her, she sank her teeth into his flesh. Instantly Raoul drew back. She rolled away from him, ignoring his cry of pain and the curses he heaped upon her. Running to the sitting room, Lianne pulled at the drapes. They fell forward and landed on Raoul just as he leaped toward her, like a tiger after a gazelle.
    â€œPuta!” he hissed and tried to disentangle himself from the mass of material.
    At that moment she didn’t care if he branded her a whore. She wanted to survive, to flee him, but she knew he’d follow her once he freed himself of the drapes. Noticing the wine bottle on the table, she picked it up and swung at the side of his face as he blindly headed for her.
    Lianne blinked when the bottle cracked and shattered in green slivered fragments. Wine splattered across the walls and over the white draperies. She heard an agonized groan from beneath the fabric. In fascinated horror, she watched as Raoul staggered toward her. In a panic she searched for another weapon when he fell, landing inches from her feet.
    His shrouded figure lay quietly before her. The crimson color which stained the drapes she assumed to be wine, but when she cautiously bent down and touched the stickiness oozing from the fibers of the thin silk, she knew it was blood.
    â€œDon Raoul,” she whispered urgently. “Don Raoul.”
    No answer.
    She had killed him!
    Standing up, Lianne backed away and grabbed for her cape. As she