The Notorious Lady Anne: A Loveswept Historical Romance

by Sharon Cullen

  “Kenmar has nothing to do with this,” he said.

  “Of course he does, and you’re foolish to think you can control me this way.”

  “I can’t dispute the foolish claim, but this isn’t to control you. This has to end, Emmaline.”

  “It will end when Daniel Blackwell is destroyed.” Her voice rose until she was nearly yelling, and her words resounded through the trees, silencing the birds.

  “I’m handing you the key to his destruction.” He wasn’t yelling, and his tight control made her feel even more out of control.

  Her other boot was a few feet away, halfway under a different bush. “I fear your price is too high.”

  “That’s it? You don’t care about the gold?”

  Hopping on one foot, she pulled her boot on. “I care. But I can’t accept your conditions.”

  “You’re a stubborn woman.”

  “That’s how I got where I am today.”

  He tilted his head and those dark blue eyes seemed to see right through her. “And where are you?”

  She forced a smile and spread her arms. “Why right here, on the most beautiful island in the Caribbean, living in a house that would be the envy of London society, with servants I trust. Where would I be without pirating, Captain Addison? At least this way I get to choose my destiny.”

  He stared at her a few more moments, the intensity of it making her want to squirm. “This way you get to choose your demise.”

  Nicholas watched Emmaline stomp away, her back straight, her shoulders stiff. But he had seen the hurt in her eyes, the pain of what she considered betrayal, and he cursed out loud. He was an idiot for bringing this up now. He should have waited, but there would never be a right time. He wanted this to end. He wanted her safe, but he also knew she would never stop until Blackwell was destroyed. By offering her the tools to destroy Blackwell, Nicholas hoped to end this quickly, and bring her to safety even more quickly. But he hadn’t thought about her reaction. Oh, he knew she’d be furious, but he had never considered the possibility that she’d think he’d used their lovemaking as a way to convince her.

  He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. He’d ruined everything. Now she knew he’d been withholding information from her, and he was willing to use the information to control her. He did want to control her. But only for her own good.

  He swept up the basket and blanket and started after her. He heard her thrashing through the trees, muttering to herself, and caught a few curse words and epithets regarding him and his ancestry. Despite the panic building inside him, he smiled.

  She suddenly stopped thrashing and he hurried to catch up. If she managed to get to the house before him he would never be able to talk to her, to convince her that her reasoning was flawed. Mayhap he shouldn’t present it in such a fashion. Flawed might not be a word she would be open to hearing. Even if it was the correct word.

  He burst through the trees and almost ran her over. She was standing still, staring up at the house and Peter Lansing.

  Bloody hell.

  Nicholas transferred the basket and blanket to one hand and wound his arm around her waist. She tensed but didn’t step away.

  “Lansing.” Nicholas used his best aristocratic voice, and practically looked down his nose at the man. Normally he detested people who acted this way, but this situation called for it.

  Lansing’s gaze skipped from Emmaline to Nicholas and back to Emmaline. Ah, hell. She’d dressed in such a hurry, her shirt was wet from her dripping hair. Wet, and practically transparent. Nicholas dropped the basket and whipped the blanket around her shoulders.

  “Mrs. Sutherland.” Lansing dipped his head toward her before turning icy eyes to Nicholas. “Addison.”

  Emmaline, apparently at a loss for words, remained silent while Lansing looked at her expectantly.

  “Mrs. Sutherland and I spent the day relaxing by the water.” Nicholas allowed his tone to convey the implication of what they were truly doing. Lansing needed to understand that Emmaline was completely off-limits, and completely Nicholas’s. He tightened his hold at the thought. She wasn’t his, but now wasn’t the time to think about that.

  Lansing raised his brows and looked her up and down, starting at the men’s boots she wore, and moving to the men’s breeches. “I see,” he sniffed.

  “To what do we owe the honor of your visit?” Nicholas asked, wishing he could boot Lansing off the property.

  “I came to invite you two to the Governor’s Ball being held next week. I thought it a prime time to announce your betrothal. Surely by then the news of your betrothal will have reached your family.” Lansing barely contained a smirk.

  “I don’t think—”

  “That’s kind of you.” Nicholas quickly spoke over Emmaline. No use giving the man more ammunition to increase his doubts concerning their betrothal. “We would be honored, wouldn’t we?” He turned to Emmaline. Her eyes narrowed but she gave a jerky nod.

  Nicholas smiled at Lansing. “She’s miffed because I threw her in the pond.”

  She stomped on his toe. Grinding his teeth against the pain, Nicholas yanked his foot from beneath hers and pinched her side.

  “Splendid,” Lansing drawled, snapping his walking stick against his leg. “We look forward to seeing you at the ball then.” He dipped his head to Emmaline. “Mrs. Sutherland.” He glared at Nicholas. “Addison.”

  He sauntered off at a deliberately slow clip while Nicholas held Emmaline in place. She fairly quivered beneath him, and it was not from excitement.

  “Easy,” he whispered in her ear. “Let him be long gone before you explode on me.”

  Lansing turned to look back at them and Nicholas smiled and waved.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Emmaline ripped herself from his embrace and stomped off. Nicholas followed, keeping an eye on the corner of the house Lansing had disappeared around. He didn’t trust that man.

  As soon as he entered the house, he handed the basket and blanket to Clarence, who took it with an, “ ’ey now. I ain’t no servant.”

  Nicholas rolled his eyes and bounded up the stairs after Emmaline. Watching her straight back and stiff walk, he couldn’t help but think that she did look good in those breeches. They defined her derriere like no gown could.

  As she was about to slam her bedchamber door in his face, he put his foot in and scooted inside.

  She spun on him, all ebony-haired and snapping, green-eyed fury. “I can’t believe you’re perpetuating this lie about our betrothal.”

  “Of all people, I would think you’d understand the need to perpetuate a lie.”

  Her lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point. We can’t possibly go to the ball.”

  “On the contrary. We must go if we’re to perpetuate this lie.”

  Her hands came out to her sides. “There is no point, because there is no betrothal.”

  He crossed his arms, certain in this if anything. “In Lansing’s eyes there is.”

  “You fear him too much.”

  “It’s not I who should fear him.”

  She scoffed. “I fear no one. He’s nothing but a nuisance whose twitchy little nose will turn to the next pretty woman who crosses his path.”

  “Don’t be so certain.” Nicholas saw the hatred simmering in Lansing’s eyes. He wanted Emmaline. Whether he wanted her as a woman, or wanted her very valuable land and house, Nicholas hadn’t decided, but it made no difference. He was damned if Lansing would get his hands on her, or her property.

  “I’m not going to the ball,” she said.

  “So what will you do? Ignore him? That will only inflame his obsession.”

  She snorted at the word obsession. Obviously, Lansing was the kind of enemy she hadn’t encountered before. No doubt she was able to handle other pirates, but refined gentlemen intent on bedding her were something else entirely. The thought of Lansing even attempting such a thing made Nicholas want to stop him for good. But harming the governor’s son was the
best way to draw unwanted attention to Emmaline.

  “We must play this out to the end,” he said.

  She waved her hand in the air. “I will avoid him, and in a few weeks we’ll sail away. When I return, all will be well.”

  “You’re foolish if you think so. He will be waiting when you return. We must show a united front and convince him our betrothal is sincere. Already he doubts us.”

  “What will attending this ball gain us? I make an effort to remain isolated up here, and have a reputation for not attending social functions. Going to the ball will merely attract attention I can’t afford.”

  “Short of marrying, I know of no other way to convince him.”

  Her eyes widened and she laughed. “You go too far.”

  Mayhap, but the idea took hold and wouldn’t let go. For weeks now, he’d experienced a tremor of fear at the thought of leaving Emmaline. What if he didn’t have to leave her? What if they were bound together forever? What would it be like to make love to her every day, like they’d done this afternoon and last evening? He experienced a yearning so powerful and hot it wouldn’t let him go.

  To the public eye she was a respectable widow. Not of his class, but not too far beneath him that marrying her would raise eyebrows. All they had to do was hide her past. Her very disreputable past.

  He was daft for even thinking such a thing, wasting precious time on silly fantasies.

  She was staring at him, her eyes wide, her cheeks flushed from their time by the waterfall. Was there hope in those eyes? Certainly not.

  “Nevertheless, we need to convince him our betrothal is sincere.”

  She shook her head, looking amused. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

  He stepped closer, needing to be nearer. “Humor me, Emmaline. Let me take you to one ball.”

  “You insist on pretending we are something we are not. I am not a society lady who twitters over gowns and balls and the latest gossip. Pretending otherwise will make it harder in the end.”

  He slipped a finger down her cheek, warmed from their hours in the sun. Did she speak the truth? Did he want to pretend she was something other than a pirate? The thought didn’t sit well with him. He believed in propriety and honor, but he was never one to ask a person to change because of who they were or what they believed in.

  He liked Emmaline Sutherland the way she was—feisty and hardheaded, well versed in weaponry instead of gossip. She intrigued him and drew him to her in ways he was unable to explain. Even now, when he knew she was angry at him, he was still attracted to her and very conscious of the bed behind them.

  His gaze flickered to it as his manhood stirred once again. What the hell was this? He was as randy as a sixteen-year-old with his first woman.

  He cupped her cheek and kissed her gently on the lips. Making love under the waterfall had been every erotic dream come true, and yet he still wanted her with a desire and need that had him teetering on the edge of control once again. She undid him, this pirate of his. She made him lose all sense of himself, and he found he didn’t mind at all.

  She made a small noise in the back of her throat and went up on tiptoe, winding her arms around his neck.

  “This isn’t finished,” she said, her lips brushing his.

  “Of course it isn’t.” He walked her backward until she fell onto the bed, a giggle erupting from her.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “You love it.”

  “I do. But what I meant was that our discussion was not finished.”

  “Mmmmm.” He wasn’t about to argue with her now. Not when he was so close to getting her out of the damn breeches.

  She wriggled out of her breeches, revealing every inch of her long, muscular legs. Legs that opened for him, revealing the soft center that wept for his member.

  Her breathing was ragged, her gaze following his every movement.

  “This is too soon,” he said. She had to be sore from the other times they made love.

  She reached for him, pulled him down on top of her. “And yet not soon enough.”

  He groaned as his cock found her entrance and slid so easily inside, as if she were made for him.

  He moved slowly, taking his time, smoothing the hair back from her face. She looked up at him with those green eyes that just moments ago had been furiously angry at him. They would resume their argument, but for now they had found peace. Blessed peace.

  Her hips moved with him as she began to pant. The sharp green eyes turned soft. She wrapped her legs around him, opening herself up farther so he could penetrate deeper. The feeling was exquisite, and his eyes drifted closed as he rocked back and forth.

  He grabbed her hands and held them above her head so her breasts rose, their points hard. He bent his head and suckled first one and then the other. Emmaline gasped, then mewled like a kitten.

  Eventually her mewls turned to cries of need, and Nicholas moved faster, his bollocks tightening as he readied for his own release. A cry erupted from him and he clenched his jaws tight, unwilling to alert anyone in the house to what they were doing.

  He pumped into her, their thighs slapping together.

  His release rushed out of him and he hurriedly pulled out, his semen shooting onto her stomach and the bedsheets. They lay pressed together, sealed to each other with the sweat of their lovemaking. Their chests rose and fell until finally their heartbeats settled into a normal rhythm. Nicholas rolled off her and retrieved a towel from the dresser to clean them up.

  When their clothes were back on, they faced each other. The interlude was over.

  “So it’s settled,” he said. “We will attend the ball. Now, let’s finish our discussion from earlier.”

  Those emerald eyes cooled. He almost smiled at how predictable she was, and then he almost laughed at that thought, because she would hate that she was predictable. “It is not settled,” she said. “And there is nothing further to discuss regarding our earlier discussion.”

  “There is much to discuss. I have information you want and I’m of a mind to bargain for it.” In this he had the upper hand. He merely had to step lightly, carefully. Emmaline was not one to be cornered, and neither did she like to bargain.

  She stepped closer.

  A stiletto appeared between them, pricking his chest. He hadn’t put his shirt on yet and his chest was bare. Not that a shirt would protect him from her wicked weapon. He stilled, holding his breath. Damn, but the woman must have all manner of weapons stashed in every available place, because he knew for a fact she hadn’t had the stiletto on her while they made love.

  “You can carve me up, but it doesn’t change anything,” he said.

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  He sighed. “Emmaline, I didn’t use our lovemaking as anything but what it was. I wanted you. So badly I ached with it.” The stiletto wavered. She blinked. “Stop.”

  “Put the weapon away. You don’t need to use it against me.”

  For long moments she looked at him, searching his eyes for something. Deceit maybe. She’d find none. He spoke nothing but the naked truth.

  The stiletto disappeared and Nicholas finally let out his breath. “Thank you.”

  She turned away to stand by the window, where she leaned her head against the pane and pushed aside the gossamer curtains to look out over the ocean.

  Such sadness surrounded her that he hurt for her. He felt helpless because there was nothing he was able to do to help her, other than give her what she needed to succeed in her plans. Even if it went against everything he believed in.

  “Without pirating, I’m nothing,” she said softly.

  “Not true.”

  “You refuse to see what I am.”

  “I know what you are. I saw the true Emmaline Sutherland last night and again today.”

  He stepped closer. “You are much more than a pirate.” If she would only open her mind and see herself for what she truly was.

  “I can’t give it up. I won’t give it up.”

/>   “You cling to what is comfortable, but you can’t be a pirate forever.” He couldn’t lose her to this and he knew, deep in his heart, if she continued on this course, her career would destroy her. “Are you telling me you had no plans after this? You never thought about what you would do after Blackwell was destroyed?”

  Her shoulder came up in a half shrug. “I assumed I wouldn’t live long enough.”

  “My God, Emmaline.” The thought had his heated blood turning cold.

  She turned until her back rested against the sash and she was looking at him. “Surely you know the life expectancy of someone in my profession. I’ve lived far longer than most.”

  “You can change that.” The need to grab her and carry her away to a safe place overtook him, but even he knew he couldn’t lock her up. Not someone as vibrant as Emmaline Sutherland.

  “I don’t want to. My life goal has been to destroy my father.”

  “You have more to live for.”

  “And what, pray tell, would that be?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it.

  A small, sad smile played around her mouth. “You see? Even you agree there is no other life for a retired pirate. Especially a retired lady pirate.”

  “I can’t stand by and watch you destroy yourself.”

  “I was destroyed the moment my father walked out on my mother and me.”

  He shook his head. “What your father did was wrong, and he should be punished. That’s why I’m coming to you with this information. But Emmaline, don’t let what he did define you. You are so much more than revenge.”

  “Thank you for your belief in me, but it’s misguided.”

  “You have the power to end this.”

  “Maybe eleven years ago I did, but not now. I’ve seen too much, experienced too much, to turn my life around at this point.” She pushed away from the window, her sadness gone, replaced by the no-nonsense woman he met at Dorothy’s ball a lifetime ago. “I’m touched you want to help, Captain Addison, but I fear your price is too high.”

  So, that was it? She would sail off and he would never know the ending to this tale? He would watch her prepare her ships and make her plans and know he would never see her again? That quite possibly she was sailing toward her death?