Seduced by the Screenwriter

Chapter 6, The Seduction of Miss Prudence Maxwell, Part 6

Mature content

Chapter 6

The Seduction of Miss Prudence Maxwell

Catrina parked her vehicle on the lee side of Jenna's cottage, protecting it from the bitter wind blowing streamers of snow off the frozen lake.

At her knock, Chett pulled open the heavy wood door. His dimpled smile warmed her chilled insides faster than brandy. Clad in a crisp formal white shirt, thin black leather tie, black suit jacket and worn charcoal jeans, he'd stepped out of a GQ magazine photo. To suit the era, he'd slicked down neatly parted sun-streaked hair.

"You are exquisite," he said as he took her parka and winter boots and stowed them in Jenna's coat closet.

"I look good enough to eat?" She cocked her head of curls at him, deliberately provocative. His kissable lips beckoned, and she leaned in to touch hers to his lightly, then with more pressure as he deepened the kiss. A thrill swirled in her nether regions. She longed to be in his arms, naked, discovering what else those mobile lips could do to her.

"Patience." He chuckled, pulling away. "I'm preparing lake trout for dinner."

She didn't care about the meal. She'd comply and let him feed her first, but only because they'd both need to stoke up their energy for the night ahead.

Shaking the ballet flats out of a drawstring cloth shoe bag, she removed thick wool socks to slide bare feet into them and followed Chett into the Great Room. Drafts ruffled flames of stubby white candles in glass holders on the fireplace mantle, on the round table in the dining nook set for two, and on every flat surface in the room. Green-tipped flames leaped in the wood-burning fireplace. Enchanting flattering light gilded the space, not quite reaching shadowed corners.

"There was no electricity in Virginia City, California in the 1880s," Chett explained as he handed her a glass of chilled chardonnay.

"Virginia City. The setting for tonight, I presume." She sipped the wine and held the cool glass to one cheek. "My, it's warm in here."

"Your comfort means everything to me." He lifted her free hand and pressed the back to his lips. Her heartbeat quickened as twinkling blue eyes met hers. "Big Joe Grifter, ma'am, at your service. Itinerant gambler, rustler, and all around rake."

She smiled, pressing a hand over the eager thrumming of her heart. "And I am-?"

"Until today your name was Miss Prudence Maxwell, innocent daughter of an impecunious gentleman who regrettably fares poorly at poker."

"My father's broke."

"Not only that, in his most recent game he bet his daughter's hand in marriage. And lost. Or rather, it was my lucky night at the card table."

Catrina tossed her curls. "Ahhh. I expect I am not terribly keen on becoming the wife of a stranger who is patently a blackguard."

"Precisely, my dear Prudence. However you no longer have the option to refuse me. Despite tears and protestations on your part, your papa dragged you to the preacher this afternoon and we were married to pay his considerable debt. Tonight is our, ah, wedding night."

He raised his glass to her in salute. A self-satisfied smile curled the corners of his mouth. It was the smile of a man who'd won the girl and was primed to enjoy the spoils. The arrogant confidence he wore like royalty had nothing to do with the part he was supposedly playing.

"Prudence" sipped her wine to moisten a suddenly dry throat. Assuredly, she'd have a difficult time pretending to resist the advances of this handsome new husband of hers. She'd have to rely on her lines. "May I read the script?"