A Rebel Captive by J.D. Thompson Page B

was.
    “Fine?  That’s all I get from you?” he tsked.
    “It was nice,” she added, staring at the glass. 
    She only ever had one sip of champagne, from her father’s glass when she was very young and they were at a senatorial banquet.  She wanted that glass now. 
    “He’s a sweet boy.  We picked strawberries and he chased after insects.”
    Cole lifted his hand, allowing her to take the glass.  She didn’t hesitate, picked it up, and inhaled the fragrant scent. 
    “Mrs. Wellings has fifteen grandchildren, you know,” he told her as she took a sip. 
    She was smiling as the bubbles tickled her tongue. 
    “Fifteen?!” she responded in horror.
    “Well, she’s got eight children.” 
    “That explains those huge breasts.” Olivia blushed as soon as the words left her mouth. 
    Her newly formed plan of escape was making her tongue bold, but her words still embarrassed her.
    He laughed out loud.  “No, I’m afraid she’s always been… heavy chested,” he said not sure what had gotten into her, but he liked it.  “Do you like the champagne?” he asked as he started to eat dinner.
    “Yes, where do you get it?  I’ve never seen champagne outside of houses of Lords.  How do you people manage to come by it?” 
    He told her about his uncle’s vineyard, about the wealth this district built up while his father was lord, and how he hoped to be as great a leader as his father.  The champagne freed her tongue and she asked him more questions, about his father, about his life, about him.  She started to tell him about the greedy lord her father worked with before the rebellion, but stopped mid-sentence.
    “I suppose you’d rather not hear about my father…” She trailed off.
    “Regardless of his political ambitions, he’s still your father and you’re free to talk about him.” He wanted her to know how much he meant it. 
    He wanted her to tell him everything.  A solider came out and cleared their dinner plates. 
    “Dessert, sir?” the man asked.
    Cole looked at Olivia’s hopeful face and nodded.  “Yes, I think so.”
    “Very good, sir.  Mr. Thurgood is waiting to speak with you.”
    Cole motioned to bring the man in and turned to Olivia.  “Stand up,” he ordered and she hesitated, but did as she was told.  “Sit.” He pushed back his chair and motioned to his lap.
    “But…” She was almost hurt by his demand. 
    They were having such a nice time together or so she thought she thought.  Why did he have to ruin it by humiliating her?
    “You can either sit here or on the ground, but you’d have to take off that dress.  You wouldn’t want to get it dirty, down there, on your knees.” His voice lost the warmth it had before.
    She took in a big inhale of air and slowly let it out before stiffly walking over and sitting down on his lap.  His arms went around her, a hand resting on her upper thigh.  She sat upright and ridged, keeping as much of her body away from his as possible.  The solider returned, carrying plates of fruit tarts with fresh whipped cream and escorting a man in a sharp business suit.  Cole motioned for the man to sit in Olivia’s chair. 
    “Good to see you, Thurgood.  Please, join me for dessert.” 
    The solider placed the plates on the table and left.  Thurgood thanked Cole for the offer and sat down.  They got to talking, completely ignoring Olivia.  She wanted to glower at the man for stealing her chair and dessert, but stared at the table cloth instead.  Olivia was almost convinced Cole forgot about her until he started to gently rub her thigh.  She tried to move away from his touch, but there was nowhere to go and her squirming was causing her to rub against his lap.  She started to wish she picked the floor, nearly naked or not.
    Thurgood was talking about issuing supplies and strategic drop offs for troops in the field.  The two of them seemed to be talking in code and remained vague through the entire discussion.  Not that Olivia