A Thoroughly Compromised Lady

by Bronwyn Scott

  With a savage jerk, Jack pulled off his care fully tied cravat.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Dulci was all wariness.

  Jack shot her a sharp look, his eyes stalking her, assessing her, his voice like danger wrapped in silk. ‘My dear, I am redefining the nature of our relationship.’

  Why did he bother to plan anything when it came to Dulci? This wasn’t going according to any blue print he’d mentally laid out when he’d decided to declare his feelings. He’d wanted a serene setting: champagne, stars overhead, a quiet walk in the garden. Instead, he had Dulci locked in her room, spitting-cat mad over his request she take the boat home, Dulci flirting and flippant, arguing against a sensible notion, all out of stubborn pride.

  There wasn’t time to coax her into a better disposition. He was leaving on the morrow for an in de finite period of time. He had to know she would be safe. He had to know if there was a reason to return to England when his work here was done. She was in no mood to listen and he was in no mood to be patient.

  An explosive combination if ever there was one.

  ‘Redefine?’ Dulci gave him that cold, arched-eye-brow look of hers. She sat in an over stuffed chair by the window, arranging her skirts and managing to look like a queen on her throne.

  ‘Yes, redefine, dammit,’ Jack growled.

  ‘That presumes there was something defined to start with.’ Her haughty tone suggested she didn’t care one iota. Tonight, he could not believe that. Tonight, he could not be put off by her practised wiles, used on others to enforce their distance. He would not be treated as an in different suitor.

  Jack shrugged out of his evening coat, aware that Dulci eyed him with great speculation, hungry speculation in spite of her cool comments to the contrary.

  ‘We can no longer be lovers, Dulci.’

  She merely looked at him, a tolerant queen allowing her subject the luxury of speaking freely in her presence, but something flickered in her eyes. ‘And why is that, Jack?’

  He advanced towards her chair, gratified to see her eyes widen at his approach. She was not as immune as she wanted to appear. He trapped her, an arm on each side of the chair. ‘I want more than sex from you, Dulci.’ The terms were blunt and honest. There was no more time for misinterpretations and cross-purposes. He did not want a war of wits with her. If they were to fight, he wanted to fight without the stealth of double meanings. If she wanted to argue, she would have to do it without artifice. ‘What do you want, Jack?’ The last bastion of her coyness teased, her tongue darted lightly over her lips, whetting them provocatively.

  Jack leaned close, delicately feathering his breath over a sensitive ear lobe. Dulci shuddered beneath him and Jack felt a lover’s elation surge within him. He pressed his advantage. ‘I want you, Dulci, all of you: mind, body, soul.’ He pushed down the shoulders of her gown perhaps a bit roughly, freeing her breasts, then lowered his mouth to them, kissing each in turn, sucking on her nipples until they sprang sweetly erect in his mouth and Dulci moaned. Jack sat back on his haunches, pushing up her full skirts, baring her thighs, his hands riding high on her legs at the warm juncture between them. He would seduce the right answer out of her if he had to. His thumbs stroked her curls, warm and damp, her cleft already wet with want. His thumb parted her soft, secret lips and teased the taut nubbin within.

  From his intimate crouch, he watched Dulci with a lover’s delight. Her head was thrown back, her hair starting to fall in provocative fullness from its pins, her breasts naked and raised, her gown crushed about her, her mind absorbed with the heat of passion for the moment instead of hot argument.

  Jack bent his head, placed his mouth where his thumb had been and blew gently. Dulci cried out, the half-pant, half-gasping sob of a woman thoroughly caught up in her fulfilment. She arched against him. He held her possessively, his hands bracketing her hips, bracing her, as his mouth took her in the most intimate of fashions in the most intimate of places. This was his woman, complete and ready for him, not abashed by his boldness, but joining him in it, not afraid of her own pleasure. Before the night was through he would prove the right ness of his possession to her. He would brook no refusal and she would give him none.

  Dulci rocked against him, her hands clenching his hair, driving him to give her greater pleasure. His arousal was heavy and full, yearning for its own completion. He freed himself, sliding Dulci to the floor. Overstuffed or not, the chair would not hold them both, not as wild as they both were. He rose over her, covering her with his length, surrounding her with his strength. Her body answered, her passion surging as she took all of him, her body rev el ling in the power of him as it slid into hers, commanding the rhythm of their joining, leading them to utter completion. Dulci bucked hard beneath them, shattering in her pleasure and he shuddered deep within her, filling her.

  He had no desire to move from the floor, only to lay there with her, basking in the after glow of their spent passions. They were calmer now, their passion not being the only emotion quenched by a bout of lovemaking. For the moment she was tamed. Now was the time to tell her what his body had shown her.

  Jack traced a light finger from the pulse in the base of her neck, in the valley between her breasts. ‘Dulci, I love you.’

  Dulci’s eyes fluttered open. Surprise and shock were mirrored there in the moments before she became guarded, once more the Incomparable who’d spent most of her adult life rejecting proposals, protecting herself from those who would claim her as a prize. ‘What does that mean, Jack?’ She was all business, not exactly the tone he’d expected from a woman who had just been so thoroughly pleasured.

  ‘It means I want us to be together, no more wondering if each time is the last.’

  Dulci hoisted herself up on one elbow, looking like a well-tumbled woman, her hair falling gloriously to one side. Jack felt the intensity of her veiled gaze as she studied him for a long moment, contemplating, weighing. When she spoke, her tone carried a mordant edge. ‘Why, Jack, is this a marriage proposal?’

  So Dulci wanted to duel albeit without their rapiers. Jack schooled his own features into a devil-may-care expression that gave away no sign of his disappointment. He’d never told a woman he loved her before and Dulci had all but thrown the words back in his face. Who knew, the night was young, she still might.

  ‘If it was, would you accept?’

  ‘Answer my question first,’ Dulci countered. ‘Are you proposing marriage?’

  He’d meant only to declare his feelings tonight. There was too much ahead of them yet to think of marriage. Perhaps he would con tem plate marriage after the mission was complete and he knew he had something to offer her besides a viscount with a ruined reputation if the mission failed. Jack hesitated only fractionally, but Dulci’s insights were too keen. She noted the reluctance almost immediately and seized on it.

  ‘So it’s not a marriage proposal, but perhaps a proposal of a different kind. Eh, Jack?’

  Jack leapt to his feet, adjusting his trousers. ‘No, damn it. I am not asking you to be my mistress. Do you think I have no honour when it comes to you?’ The very thought was appalling and he was angry with her for even thinking such an arrangement spoke to the quality of their relationship.

  ‘But you’re not asking me to be your wife.’

  Jack’s temper flared. ‘Not tonight. How can I think of marriage with all the dangers that lie ahead? I cannot responsibly make a proposal until my name is cleared.’

  Dulci gained her feet, her voice in deadly earnest. ‘Don’t bother. I wouldn’t accept.’

  ‘I deserve better from you, Dulci, than hot words. I said I loved you. In my mind, that’s worth more than any marriage proposal.’ Love meant promises, surely she knew that? Saw what he was offering her?

  ‘Love is not enough when it’s offered from a man who has all but ignored me since our arrival, who hasn’t allowed me to be a partner in this venture although I have risked everything and followed him halfway around the world, who makes his work for the king t
he single most important priority in his life to the exclusion of all else. I dare say if the king knocked on the door right now, you’d be gone without a backward glance. No woman wants to exist on the sidelines of her husband’s life.’

  ‘You know it doesn’t work that way in my case. It’s too dangerous.’ Jack drew a ragged, frustrated breath. She was asking for too much, far more than he could give. How could he function in a world where Dulci was at constant risk?

  Dulci gave a slight nod of her head. ‘I will not be marginalised, Jack.’

  He had been dismissed. It was over. All that remained was to say goodbye, but Dulci had one last thing to say.

  ‘Do you really think saying “I love you” would change any thing? For that matter, that marriage would change anything? Neither will stop you from running at the king’s command into secret missions you can’t share or leaving for months on end.’

  ‘This man does love you, Dulci,’ Jack said firmly.

  ‘Then let me in, Jack,’ Dulci fired back.

  Jack gave her a short, sardonic bow. A smart man knew when it was time to move on. He would return to the ball and make his excuses. He had a departure to make in the morning.

  At the door his hand stalled on the knob. ‘If you ever cared an ounce for me, Dulci, you’ll get on that ship.’ He shut the door behind him and stepped out into the hall, feeling as if part of his soul had been left behind with a woman who had all he could give and still found it to be not enough. He wondered if he really blamed her. If positions were reversed, he’d not settle for what he’d offered her either. But all the same, she had to understand he could offer nothing more.

  Dulci collapsed on to the bed, fighting sobs. If she started crying now, she’d never stop. He was gone, really gone this time. How had they moved from spectacular love-making to farewell in the span of an hour? She was trembling, shaking from the emotion of it.

  How dare he put her in the position of having to decide what would become of them? How dare he say he love her and expect the words to be enough? How dare he give her exactly what she’d secretly craved but never voiced—he’d said he loved her?

  Truth was, she believed him. A man like Jack would far rather bare his body than his feelings. To tell her he loved her must have cost him dearly, no matter how much he meant it. To go to those depths meant two things: Jack was worried beyond obsession about Ortiz. And he must have wanted her on that boat pretty badly to use love as a negotiating tool.

  Well, she wasn’t about to desert Jack in his time of need. If he was worried about Ortiz, then he needed her beside him. A woman didn’t abandon the man she loved.

  That was her truth. She did love Jack; loved him too much to let him pretend that marriage and words would give them the answers they were looking for. She did want to be with Jack, but not like this with so much unresolved between them. Despite her harsh rejection earlier, she wanted to marry Jack in the sense that she wanted no other man but him, wanted to share his life fully with him—that was marriage, not some empty ceremony and piece of paper filed on the parish records. She wanted a life with Jack, not a disaster. Jack was not ready to share a life with her. Until Jack could accept that she meant to be his partner, that she would not be left behind mentally or physically, she could not commit to a future with him.

  Dulci drew a deep steadying breath—best to begin as she meant to go on. She had to show Jack the acceptance she wanted and she had to do it with actions. She could not tell him she wanted to be accepted. She had to show him and she knew how. Dulci smiled in the darkness. What was that word he’d used earlier? Ah, ‘redefining’. That was exactly what she intended to do.

  Morning saw a type of con strained chaos reigning at the governor’s mansion. Schomburgk was outside with his retainers for the expedition, waiting for Jack and the governor to send them off. Partygoers had not departed the ball, which had run until four in the morning, in hopes of seeing the adventurers off. They milled on the drive and on the wide front porch.

  Dressed in khakis, with her hair tucked up under a concealing hat, Dulci sat astride a big horse at the rear of the group, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. She was impatiently waiting with the rest. At last they were off with the governor’s prayer and his blessing. Jack rode at the head of the column next to Robert. She was careful to stay clear of Jack, keeping herself with the other retainers and trying to say as little as possible.

  Dulci waited until they reached the first river to reveal herself to Jack. The group began the process of loading goods into the many boats that would be far more useful to them than horses on this venture. She saw Jack say something to Robert and slip off into the privacy of the trees.

  She waited until he was decent before she stepped out into his path, pulling off her hat and letting her hair fall while Jack started back in what she hoped was surprise.

  ‘Hello, Jack.’

  Confusion and shock dominated his features. She watched them settle, trans muted into something more formidable as the consequences of her appearance in the jungle became obvious.

  ‘What the bloody hell are you doing here?’ This was not the tone of a man who’d been presented with a pleasant surprise. She’d best tread care fully here before she found herself marched back to Georgetown. Jack was not a man who tolerated defiance, even when it was for his own good.

  While she’d hoped for a more friendly reception, she’d expected this. Dulci stood her ground in the wake of his anger. ‘I am redefining the nature of our relationship.’

  ‘And what might that be? Your terms seemed fairly well defined last night.’

  She was not put off by Jack’s insouciant manner. ‘I am here to prove I don’t have to be left behind, that I can be your partner in all ways, in bed and out.’ She stepped towards him, closing the distance, and stopping his mouth with a kiss as fierce as her arguments.

  Chapter Twenty

  Jack was furious. Aroused, but furious. Sisyphus had an easy task compared to him, Jack thought once he got over the extraordinary shock of Dulci here of all places, kissing him sense less. He’d rolled his proverbial stone uphill only to see it roll back down. He’d seen to her safety, secured her passage on a ship back to the sanctuary of London and her brother’s protection. Ortiz could not touch her there. But here she was, professing nonsense about redefining the nature of their relationship. Didn’t she under stand there was nothing to redefine? That it couldn’t be any other way? To be any other way was to bring his night mares to life. Worse, it gave those night mares a face and it was hers. Yet, he couldn’t deny the jubilation that warred with his anger. She’d come! In spite of all her arguments last night, she’d come.

  ‘So, Dulci, you’ve decided to become an adventurer,’ Jack drawled once she broke her kiss.

  Dulci fixed him with a speculative stare, like a gambler assessing the table. ‘I’ve decided to become something more than an adventurer, although I dare say there are numerous similarities. I love you, Jack, but the one thing I must have is a place in your life. I will prove it to you. Put aside your anger and let me have a chance.’

  ‘Do you know why I am angry?’ When he’d accepted his commissions with the king, he’d also accepted living with an amorphous fear, that the people he loved might be endangered simply by association. Up until now, the fear had not been claimed, no one had captured his affections long enough to be put at risk. Dulci had changed all that; she demanded his partnership and, by doing so, made his fear real. Dulci would be the one imperilled.

  ‘You’re angry because I broke your rules and you can’t stand being challenged.’

  ‘My rules are there for good reason,’ Jack ground out; his emotions were out of sorts. He needed time to think, to reconcile the elation at her being here and the fear. She started to reply. Jack shook his head. ‘We have to get back to camp or else Robert will worry. And, Dulci, say nothing. I have to work out what to do.’ For once, Dulci complied, walking stoically beside him back to camp while he sift
ed through his thoughts.

  Some men might leap for joy at the prospect of having the woman they loved follow them in to the wilds, and in truth, part of Jack thrilled to the prospect of showing Dulci the jungle. She would love it and they would be beyond the boundaries of rules, far from society’s and the governor’s wife’s watchful eyes. But there was no small amount of guilt overlaying those decadent fantasies. Entwined with the elation was anger. Jack wanted to throttle her. The moment she’d said ‘hello, Jack’ his two worlds had collided, his efforts in keeping them separate all for naught.

  He was torn between what he should do and what he wanted to do. He should send her back to Georgetown with a couple of the younger assistants. It would help restore balance to his two separate worlds. But beyond that, it would do little good. Andrew’s ship sailed on the dawn tide. Dulci would not make that sailing. She would be no more than a sitting duck in Georgetown for Ortiz if she went back and he would be miles away up some unknown river branch, unable to rescue her should the worst happen.

  On the other hand, keeping Dulci with him would keep her safe and under his direct protection. Jack shot a sideways glance at the long-legged beauty beside him. His decision was made. It looked like he’d get to do what he wanted; to keep the intrepid Dulci Wycroft by his side and have this in credible adventure with her, guilt aside. Maybe just this once it would be better for his two worlds to mix.

  Of course, he still worried about her ability to cope with the perils of such an expedition. No matter how much she pro tested to the contrary, she wasn’t prepared for the rigours of travel in the Guiana interior. Still, if he had to choose—and apparently he did, Dulci having botched his former plans—he would rather take those chances than leave her to her own devices against an angry Calisto Ortiz.