by Jina Bacarr
She looked away, still refusing to accept his bold advances under the guise of him trying to help her.
‘I don’t believe you, sir,’ she said flatly. ‘The petty crime of an Irish servant girl, innocent though she may be, can’t be that important to the likes of the grand officers of this ship.’
‘From what I hear, it’s a matter of a stolen diamond bracelet.’
She swallowed hard. How did he find out?
He leaned closer, his hands gripping her arms, then he whispered in her ear, ‘Have you hidden it on your person?’
She pushed against him, wriggling out of his embrace.
‘I have not,’ she said. ‘I never stole nothing in my life.’
‘Not even a man’s heart?’
‘No.’
‘You’re a liar, Ava, but a beautiful one.’
‘And you, sir, are a scoundrel. By the soul of my dear sweet mother, I’m telling you the truth. I was framed, hoodwinked by the daughter of an earl.’ She explained quickly what happened when Lady Olivia wrongly accused her of stealing the bracelet and her bold plan of escape that brought her aboard ship.
He listened without interrupting her, then swept her into a dark corner on the landing, the beauty of the aft Grand Staircase shielding them from prying eyes. ‘I’m sorry I had to be so hard on you, Ava, but I had to find out the truth. You’re in great danger. The steamship company doesn’t want any bad publicity. If they find you, they will make sure you won’t have a chance to prove your innocence. They’ll send you back to Ireland and prison.’
Ava lost control when she heard that, her throat tightening so it choked her, her senses reeling. Ugly, terrible thoughts swirled around in her mind in a chaos of utter terror. She’d never let them put her in prison. Never.
She owed his lordship an apology.
‘Forgive me, sir, I was wrong to act like a scared chicken with its feathers plucked.’
‘Is that what you think of me, Ava? That I’m a hungry fox?’
He looked so serious, waiting for her to say something. She was under no delusion about him or his notorious reputation with women, knowing that by her actions she was in a spot of trouble and now digging herself into a deeper hole. She took her time in answering him.
‘Since I first saw you, Captain Lord Blackthorn, I’ve had the feeling you’re not the roguish gentleman you make yourself out to be,’ she said. ‘That you’re good and fine and noble, but you’re set on proving to the world otherwise.’
‘What would it take to prove to you my intentions are honorable, Ava O’Reilly?’ he asked, daring to clasp her gently around the waist and draw her against him until she was firmly in his embrace. His face was so close to hers she could feel his hot breath on her cheeks. His presence surrounded her, his expression indecently confident.
Damn him.
Standing tall in his evening dress, his height accentuated by his military bearing, she perceived him as a man lacking in neither courage nor daring. The fit of his black cutaway coat did nothing to hide his athletic build and emphasized his broad shoulders. His pristine white bow tie and white shirt spoke of impeccable manners, but it was his overt maleness that made her thoughts turn to sin.
He drew his finger slowly across her lips, waiting for her answer.
She shuddered.
Ava knew in that moment something had changed between them, something magical that glowed golden, but would never come again. As if they stood not on the grand ship Titanic, but back in Ireland on the greenest of green plots while the setting sun cast a shower of glimmering dust on them.
The dreamlike scene flickered before her eyes and a gentle happiness took possession of her. She put behind her the fact Captain Lord Blackthorn – Buck – wanted her not as a wife, but as a mistress.
That it was a sin against God for her to love this man. On this night, this hour, they were two passengers on a mystical journey that would soon end.
Not before she had one glorious wish come true.
‘Dance with me,’ she said, letting go with a low whisper, her cheeks flushed with the pleasure she anticipated she’d find deep within her. With him. In his arms.
‘It would be my pleasure, my lady.’
He called her a lady and her heart soared, making her feet lift off the ground.
How grand was that?
The strains of a lovely waltz surrounded them as Buck held her closer around the waist and took her hand in his. A soft curtain of velvet shadows hid them from view as she glimpsed the blue-jacketed trio of musicians playing in the reception area. The romantic melodies of a viola, cello and piano reached out to her like a lyrical fantasy as if they were playing just for them.
She looked at Buck and sensed a playfulness about him that intrigued her as they danced to the music, him daring to hold her close. Their cheeks touched when the music changed to a sensual, hot rhythm with earthy overtones of lust and passion. Though she had no idea what she was doing, he guided her though a series of provocative dance steps that made her tingle inside as he dipped her backward, his groin pressed into hers.
A delicious warmth surged through her.
He held her captive, seducing her with eyes simmering with raw desire. His slicked-back dark hair was cut at an angle, emphasizing his strong jawline. His dark eyes were smoldering, but questioning, his brows lifted. His look cut deep into her soul, capturing the essence of her feelings for him.
She gritted her teeth to keep from trembling, aware their bodies were still pressed together and she was lost in a world of her own responses.
Unspoken words hung in the air.
Heat shot through her when he pulled her closer to him as the melancholy strains of the music evoked an impassioned need in her to follow him through the graceful yet difficult twists and turns of the dance. Here, away from prying eyes under the grand sweep of the staircase, hiding their daring movements.
A dance deeply moving, mysterious.
Cold fire singed her skin every time he touched her.
A melting of her senses caused Ava to close her eyes when she felt his lips brush her neck, the warmth of his breath on her skin making her shiver.
He was a skillful dancer and a firm press on her back made her arch in response to his command, then he twirled her in a circle. He lifted her up before spinning her around until she was too dizzy to do anything but go limp in his arms. She nearly died with pleasure when his lips trailed over her burning cheek before he kissed her, covering her mouth with his own, ravishing her with his need and making her squirm.
Before she could catch her breath, he ended the kiss.
‘I’m not fooling myself, Ava. I know you don’t find the idea of becoming my mistress a favorable one,’ he whispered in her ear, ‘but I feel your need for pleasure is as hungry as mine.’
‘You are most presumptuous, sir, to think I would allow you to bed me.’ What was wrong with her? This was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
She’d never have another chance to be in his arms. When the Titanic arrived in New York, she’d be a servant girl again and he’d be a titled gentleman.
She’d address him as ‘your lordship’ and he’d cast nary a glance in her direction.
But for tonight, this ship of dreams was hers for the taking.
‘I will ask you just once, Ava, then I will never mention it again,’ he murmured in her ear, then nibbled on it. ‘Shall we finish the tango in my stateroom?’
‘Yes,’ she said, her voice barely a whisper.
Her dream was coming true, that winged belief she could rise above who she was for one enchanted night aboard the finest ship in the world.
Lying in his brass bed, in his arms.
Wrapped up in silk and sweat, Ava had run so far away from the teachings of the Church, yet she dared all the holy saints to catch up to her and tell her why such an act was wrong.
In her heart she believed it was as blessed as the first spring rain drenching the budding blooms with the spirit of faith.
And the devil be hanged.
Looking at him all grand and handsome in his elegant evening clothes, Ava had every reason to believe he would show no restraint and make love to her with the same intensity he’d displayed since the first time they met. Her racing from the law, her face flushed, her body racked with fatigue, the fear of God coursing through her veins. Him finding her, grabbing her, so protective and daring he was, then keeping her safe.
What a fine memory it was.
Her mind, filled with hope and passion, could see this was her one chance at happiness.
If only for tonight.
She let down her hair. When she saw the gleam in his eyes, she knew the effect was stunning, her long red tresses flowing over her shoulders.
‘Like star fire,’ Buck said, holding her tight around the waist, then wrapping her long hair around his fingers and drawing her face close to his.
Impatience made her cry out. She was so aware of her own breathing, fast and hard, her lips parting, when—
He kissed her. Hungrily. With an intimacy she’d never known before in her life, as if he could deny himself the taste of her no longer.
Her hands slipped over his broad shoulders, pulling off his evening coat, then clutching at his gentleman’s white shirt. No gentleman kissed like this. He claimed her mouth with force, yet he was also tender. His kisses were all she had dreamed of and so much more.
A lovely aura of oneness encompassed her, touching him, feeling his muscles, strong and powerful. Her womanly instincts sparked, every inch of her becoming alive as she had never been before.
‘Ava, my love,’ he said, cupping her face in his hands. His words captured her mind, but his movements mesmerized her with a wicked promise she prayed he would keep.
His gaze slid up and down her body, inspecting her, caressing her slender thighs, as they lay side by side on the bed atop the satin bedding.
Her heart seemed to stop.
He’d never seen anyone so beautiful, he had said, each word a whispered caress touching her heart. This was a man who had captured her wandering Irish soul with his strength and power. She dared not hint at the desperation seething inside her to surrender to him, believing he would cast her aside for her recklessness.
No, she’d not wait any longer.
She pushed aside the ranting of her mind. With all her heart she wanted him and she wondered how long she could wait for him to take her.
By God, she couldn’t wait. A girl had to do what she had to do.
She pulled away from his embrace and slipped out of bed, then took off the countess’s long black coat. She tossed it onto the horsehair sofa and stood there, grinning to see him fighting to keep his composure.
Before he could stop her, she pulled off her stewardess uniform and tossed it carelessly on the carpet. Amused, Buck folded his hands behind his head and watched her.
Standing in her flimsy chemise and camisole, Ava blushed. Thank God for the fan in the ceiling that blew a soft breeze to cool her cheeks. Now to finish what she’d started.
Licking her lips, she untied the thin white ribbon on her faded camisole with great care before pulling the string free.
Her eyes never leaving his.
‘You amaze me, Ava,’ Buck was saying, his eyes traveling up and down the length of her as she pulled the camisole over her head and wiggled out of the garment. ‘You know how to tease like the smartest sophisticate, yet I’d swear you’ve never been with a man before.’
‘Is that what you think?’ she teased. ‘I’ll not tell you, sir, but show you instead.’
Without hesitation, she undid the plain, round top buttons on her chemise and made no move to cover herself as her breasts spilled out over her corset.
‘You little vixen,’ he said.
He reached for her, but she stepped back.
Such fun she was having. She was alive in a wild way as she’d never been before, all the anticipation building inside her. Her need so great, she didn’t care if she acted in a bold manner, exposing her desire to him as easily as she’d bared her breasts.
Buck never took his eyes off her. Danger lurked in his gaze.
Her heart slammed in her chest when Buck jumped off the bed and tore off his shirt, baring his muscular chest.
She trembled. She’d never seen a man so naked. So tempting.
Ava could no more look away than let the devil take her soul. It was maddening. His skin glistened with a sheen of sweat. A warrior’s body, the muscles in his arms rippling when he reached out to touch her, the tendons in his belly hard, a man sculpted like a god, yet he was all sinew and muscle, flesh and bone.
He pulled her into his arms and together, laughing, they rolled back onto the bed.
Close to calling out every blessed name she could think of, Ava met his gaze, her nails digging into his arms.
Buck touched her breasts with slow strokes, then unhooked her corset and tossed it aside. Next, he pulled off her chemise and kissed her stomach, her thighs, everywhere, as if he wished to familiarize himself with every mole, every freckle on her body.
She groaned, the anticipation building in her until she could stand it no longer.
She pushed her hips up to meet him, him kneeling over her, when—
A loud knock on the cabin door startled her.
She sat up. A cutting chill raced through her. A numbness struck her and she couldn’t move.
Again, the knock. Louder this time.
‘Stay here, Ava,’ Buck said. ‘Don’t make a sound.’
She nodded, then crossed her arms over her bare breasts. He drew the bed drapes closed to hide her, leaving her alone in the darkened alcove. She could hear the door opening, then Buck trying to quiet down the intruder, his harsh whispers giving no quarter.
Whoever it was, they wouldn’t go away.
Ava blessed herself. She swore by all that was holy she’d done no wrong. She was a good Catholic girl, save for her weakness of the flesh that did no one no harm.
So what then was all the commotion about?
Had St Michael himself come for her?
17
Buck groaned when he opened the cabin door and saw the hysterical look on the face of the woman ready to skin his hide.
And Ava’s.
The countess.
Hellbent on catching him with his pants down.
He was hot and sweaty and naked above the waist, his upper body shiny with sweat. She gawked at him, cleared her throat, then regained her composure.
He wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Fiona pushed past him and ripped open the bed drapes concealing the girl. Ava screamed, pulled up the satin bedding to hide her nakedness. ‘Come out of there, Ava, now.’
Ava, with her head held low, swung her feet over the edge of the bed.
Finally, she said, ‘Turn around, your ladyship, so I can hide my shame.’
Fiona looked smug. ‘Why should I? You didn’t hide yourself from Buck.’
‘Don’t be so hard on the girl,’ Buck said, coming between them. ‘This is all my doing.’
Neither woman could take their eyes off his naked torso, staring at him with hungry looks. He would have found the entire incident amusing, but he was aware there was more at play here than a lady looking for her maid.
The countess smirked. ‘Really, Buck, she doesn’t appear to be your prisoner. Rather, I believe you are hers.’ She lifted up the girl’s chin. Ava turned her face away in defiance but Fiona wasn’t about to be deterred. She forced the girl to meet her eyes. ‘Look at me, Ava, and tell me you didn’t use your wiles to seduce him, as all pretty women do.’
Buck softened. ‘There’s no need to be jealous, Fiona.’
‘Me, jealous?’ the countess said, laughing as she turned to stare him down, her eyes blazing. ‘Come, Buck. You know me better than that.’
‘Then why are you here?’ he asked, raking his hand through his matted, damp hair in frustration.
‘I came to save the
girl from making the biggest mistake of her life.’
Thrusting out her chin, Ava opened her mouth to protest, but Buck’s next words stopped her cold.
‘You’re a little late for that, Fiona,’ he said in a slow drawl, baiting her. The shocked look on her face confirmed what he wanted to know.
She still loved him. Buck backed down. He hated himself for that. How could a man live with himself for hurting such a dear soul?
‘You compromised this girl?’ the countess demanded to know. ‘How could you do such a thing, Buck?’ Her angry tone indicated she wouldn’t leave without an explanation.
Was she upset or jealous?
Or both?
‘Ava took off her clothes of her own free will,’ he said with a calm demeanor, trying to soften the blow.
‘That’s cruel, Buck,’ she said, hurt. ‘You don’t have to remind me of my foolish behavior that night at Dirksen Castle.’
Ava exhaled loudly but said nothing. Her cheeks were tinted pink. Buck was taken aback she’d admit such a thing in front of the Irish girl. The countess was alive with a feverish, unfriendly behavior that unnerved him.
He had to tread carefully, or he would find himself in an unpleasant situation, caught between two very unpredictable women.
Both were special to him, he acknowledged, though for different reasons. He greatly admired the countess, her goodness and her elegance. She was fair-minded and viewed jealousy as humiliating to a woman and showing her insecurity. He couldn’t help but feel empathy for her.
That was before he dragged Ava into her life. He’d be the first to say he had misjudged the chemistry between the two women and now he was paying for it.
And Ava… damn it all to hell, what he felt about her no man had a right to feel without putting a ring on her finger.
Something he wasn’t ready to do.
The last thing he needed was either woman angry with him.
‘I’m not trying to hurt you, Fiona,’ Buck said gently, ‘but what happened between Ava and me has nothing to do with our friendship.’
The countess picked up her long black velvet coat, which had slipped onto the floor, and dusted off the collar with its plaid trim. ‘I believe it does, Buck. You brought the girl to me and I feel responsible for her.’
