A Woman Made For Sin

by Michele Sinclair

  “You almost died, Aimee,” Reece hissed, taking a step forward, but Haskin’s large hand whipped out, stopping him from coming any closer.

  Haskin snapped, “You, seaman, are out of order and . . .” Then his eyes grew wide as he took in Reece’s state of dress. “. . . you have been for some time,” he mumbled, finishing his thought. Then finding his voice again, Haskin barked, “Just what the hell are you wearing?”

  Reece crossed his arms, and the tension emanating from his body filled the room. His light blue eyes had turned icy, and danger radiated from him like an aura. Haskin was tall, but Reece had at least two or three more inches on him. Other than that, the men were similar in physique and strength, and it was not exactly clear who would win a brawl between the two of them.

  “I’m wearing what that angel-like hellion over there gave me!” Reece yelled back.

  From the corner of her eye, Aimee could see Mrs. Shay assess her handiwork and raise an eyebrow at her. Aimee bit her bottom lip, but deep down she did not feel guilty for cutting his pants off above the knees as well as leaving him only a couple of inches for sleeves on his shirt. She had done nothing else to any of his other clothes. It was not like he had nothing else to wear, and besides, she had spent weeks in garments that did not fit. She had made do. So could Reece.

  Haskin, who was used to being in constant control of his crew, looked back and forth between them. It was clear that he no longer saw her as innocent and sweet, which was fine with Aimee, as she was neither. But Haskin’s expression also was one of disgust that she would desire to be tied in any way to a lowly, unmannered seaman. Unfortunately, Reece was seeing it too. He was mad at her, but his anger toward Haskin had increased exponentially. Soon he was going to lose his self-control and fly into a rage.

  To Aimee’s relief, Captain Shay stood up and said in a low but commanding voice, “Haskin, stand down and wipe that look off your face before Hamilton here removes your good looks and feeds them to the sharks.”

  Haskin remained transfixed but did look at his captain. “You know him?”

  Shay nodded. “He’s the co-owner of W & H Shipping, and he’s also engaged to Lady Wentworth.”

  Mrs. Shay, feeling left out, stood up, hooked her arm in her husband’s, and said in a tone that indicated she thought the whole scene quite entertaining, “I believe our Mr. Haskin is in shock and could use some time to digest everything, my dear. Shall we take our leave and let these young ones have some privacy?”

  Captain Shay gave his wife a wink and pointed to the bottle of wine on the table. “Grab it, Haskin. You need it, by the looks of you.”

  Haskin did as told, and without a word turned and left. The Shays followed him but on their way out, Aimee could hear Captain Shay say to his wife, “’Twould be a shame if the two of them worked it out. They were actually quite entertaining the past few days, weren’t they, my dear?”

  Reece could only stare at her. His anger could not be squelched, but neither could his desire. For days now, he had been getting only glimpses of her from afar or had only been able to hear her voice. Now that Aimee was standing in front him, her green eyes blazing, all he could think of was that she was even more beautiful than he remembered.

  “Why are you here, Reece?” Aimee finally asked, breaking the silence.

  “You missed our wedding and I am here to correct that.”

  “I did not miss our wedding. I canceled it.”

  Reece tilted his head and pursed his lips. “And I am un-canceling it.”

  Aimee’s jaw tightened and her spine straightened. “I will not marry you.”

  Reece took a step back, shrugged his shoulders, and leaned against the doorframe.

  Aimee waited for him to say something, start an argument, or just bark out an order, but he infuriatingly remained silent. “I mean it, Reece. I do not want to marry you. It’s not going to happen. I don’t know what drove you to follow me . . . injured pride, misguided sense of decency, a need to right a wrong that doesn’t exist—”

  “More like obsession.”

  That caught Aimee off guard. “Obsession?”

  He nodded. “Mixed with quite a bit of possessiveness, as it turns out.” He shrugged his shoulders again. “Who knew that I was the jealous type? But I am. Haskin may not know it, but he’s lucky to be alive. For if I had thought for even one instant that your interest in him was real, I’m not sure what I would have done.”

  Aimee swallowed. Reece’s tone came off as lighthearted, but there was something quite serious about it as well. Then realizing just what he was trying to do, she shook her head. “Charming words will not work this time. I know the truth, Reece.”

  He pushed himself back to a standing position. “And just what might that be?”

  Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Aimee replied, “You fear that you will regret marrying me.”

  Reece cocked a brow, took a step forward, and said, “I fear regret. Still do. But it was not mine that causes me concern . . . it’s yours.”

  Aimee licked her lips. She could remember his words to Mr. Collins as if they had just been spoken. It was much more than just fear of possible regret that had caused her to turn her back on their future. “You feel forced into marrying me. That you have no choice.”

  Reece took another step forward. “Again, what you say is true. The situation demands we marry. And since you are not leaving this ship until we are married, you now can sympathize with my initial reaction. But, if I did have a choice about marrying you, it would be an easy one to make. I’d choose you.”

  Aimee could feel her heart pound. She instinctively took a step back and pointed her finger at him. “You are just saying that. You . . . you think anyone but you would be lucky to have me. For you, I’m a tragic mistake you made.”

  With a roll of his eyes, Reece argued, “Those are your words, not mine. And only for a short while did I think I was unlucky. Can you imagine the hell of being married to a person you want but who does not want the real you? But I’ve decided you are more than worth the risk.”

  Taking another step back, Aimee’s back came up against the wall. Reece was only a couple of feet away. Part of her wanted to flee, but part of her wanted to stay and give in to her heart’s desire. But that was something he had yet to give her. She had given him her heart, but he had never given her his. “You want me.”

  “I do,” he said, inching forward.

  “You may desire me.”

  “Beyond imagination.” Another step.

  “But I want more, Reece,” she whispered, looking into his eyes boring down on her. “You were right. What we have is not enough, and I will regret marrying you.”

  Undeterred, Reece leaned down until his lips were inches from her own. “Don’t you know? You have captivated all of me, body and soul. Not even my love for the sea can compete with how I feel about you. I don’t just desire you, Aimee Wentworth. I love you. And without you in my life, I will never again be complete.”

  His love for her shone in the depths of his sky-blue gaze. He meant what he had said. He loved her. More than that, he loved her in the same way she loved him. Completely. Aimee felt the wound inside her start to close. Happiness had found her. “I love you, Reece. I always have and I always will.”

  With a groan, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. The volatile emotions that had been raging through him suddenly became a wild, desperate hunger. Lifting her in his arms, he carried her down the two flights of stairs to the wardroom, kicking the door closed behind him. Without lifting his mouth from hers, Reece eased her back onto the soft bed.

  Finally alone with no fear of being interrupted, his long fingers delved into her hair, loosening the pins that held it. “Tell me you are not a dream. That I really do have the most beautiful woman in my arms,” he mumbled against her lips before brushing a kiss across them once more.

  Aimee basked in his loving attention. “I am real and I am yours,” she whispered softly into his ear. Her warm, care
ssing breath flooded him with hot images of their nights together, sending another rush of desire through his veins.

  Reece devoured her lips with another slow, seductive, mind-numbing kiss to which Aimee submitted willingly, eagerly. His hands splayed over her back, pulling her against him. Aimee clung to him, reveling in his power and his need. Hot little ripples of pleasure slid down her thighs as she felt the hard bulge beneath his cropped pants and moved sensuously against it.

  Wrapped in the haven of her love, for the first time Reece could feel his mind at peace. “I need to be inside you. I need to feel you around me, shivering in pleasure. I need to know exactly how much you need me.”

  “I do. Reece, I do need you.” She said no more as he cut off her words with another kiss.

  His fingers tangled in her hair, crushing the silky strands as if he couldn’t get enough of the feel of her. Her fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt until his torso lay exposed, powerful, well muscled, and perfect. Aimee sighed and bent her head to flick her tongue in smooth strokes over his skin.

  Reece’s arousal surged higher into insistent fevered pulsations. He nuzzled her neck. The scent of her filled his head. As he slid her gown off her shoulders, his lips followed, wondering anew how a woman could be so warm and soft.

  He slowly made his way down to the valley between her breasts, pausing for short moments to remove the rest of their garments. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as his mouth found the first ripe berry. He laved it with his tongue, taking the hardened nipple into his mouth and teasing it until she squirmed with want of him. Turning his attention to the other breast, his hand lowered, parting her thighs.

  Aimee moaned. Reece was kissing her with exquisite passion and touching her in all the right places. She arched her back, desperate to feel his lips glide farther down her body. When he finally lifted his head, she reached for him, but he caught her hands and guided them to his shoulders. He grinned as he slid slowly down her body, bringing his hands up the insides of her thighs.

  Aimee’s heart began to pound. Her body burned and clenched as she trembled with anticipation. Reece leaned down and kissed the inside of her knee. Then he moved forward and kissed the inside of her thigh.

  Her fingernails dug into his shoulder blades and her hips bucked. That was all the invitation Reece needed. Bending down, he took her in his mouth, his tongue hot and rough and insistent. Aimee moaned a soft whimper. The primitive erotic sound nearly drove Reece insane with desire. He cupped her hips and lifted her tighter against his mouth as his tongue plunged into her in an almost savage quest to mate with her.

  Aimee thought she was going to die from the pleasure. His mouth was urgent, demanding everything, and she gladly surrendered to his claiming.

  It had turned painful holding back, and Reece could no longer wait. He needed to be inside her. To fill her body and her soul completely. Aimee moaned his name and begged him with her hands and mouth to end his torment. Rising up, he lifted her hips and thrust into her with one powerful surge. She was more than ready for him.

  Aimee gasped at the feel of him. His size and girth shocked her as he filled her, but as always she reacted primitively to his bold, aggressive hardness and surged to meet his thrust. Reece urged her into a passionate rhythm. He made love to her until his back was slick with sweat and his muscles trembled beneath his skin. Aimee felt her body clench around his with each stroke. She could not seem to get enough of the hot, thick feel of him inside her.

  She wrapped her legs around his waist. Then, suddenly, her whole body was pulsating with erotic release. Reece tried to pull out a short distance but ended up surging back into her hot sheath, unable to resist the pull of Aimee’s climax. It sparked his own, a bolt of lightning shot through him, and he gave a shout of exultant satisfaction that echoed against the cabin walls. Reece then collapsed beside Aimee, too exhausted, too satisfied to apologize.

  Long minutes passed before either was capable of speaking. He had taken her, possessed her, claimed her, as he had never done before. By giving himself so completely, by trusting her, he had made her his own. He had imprinted himself on her heart and on her soul. Aimee did not think it possible to love him more, but she did.

  She settled her head on his shoulder and stroked his chest, loving the feel of his crisp hair.

  Reece captured her hand and brought it to his mouth. He kissed her palm. “So I guess you think your little scheme of sneaking on board the Emerald a successful one. The Daring Three win again,” he murmured against her hair in a playful but sarcastic tone.

  Curled in his arms, Aimee nodded her head against his chest. “Our schemes always work. Maybe not the way we plan, but in the end, we figure out a way.”

  Chapter 32

  November 16, 1816

  Chase heard the door open but did not turn around to see who had entered. For the past day and a half, maids and servants had been coming in to check on him and bring him food, though he ate very little. The doctor had agreed to stay, but had just left to take a nap in the guest room. Chase refused to fall asleep and was not sure if he could, even if he tried. Staying by Millie’s side, holding her hand, praying for her recovery was all he knew to do. Everything else within his power had been done.

  He had no recollection of how he arrived at the hidden clearing in Hyde Park. He could only recall seeing Millie, unearthly pale and unconscious by the bench. Her body had been cold and limp, but she was breathing. He rushed her home and the doctor was waiting for him. The wound had been treated and it was decided that bloodletting would not be necessary since she had already lost a significant amount.

  As expected, Millie had developed a fever. She called out for him, for Aimee and Jennelle, so often that he sent word to Jennelle to come. He told her only that Millie had been found but was injured. Part of him knew he should have explained just how dangerously near death Millie was, but he could not do it. It was as if putting it down on paper made it even worse . . . and anything worse would mean death.

  The fever had finally broken early that day, but it had now been several hours and she had yet to wake up. When the doctor mentioned that she might have become too hot during her feverish state and might never wake up, Chase had ordered him from the room. He had to be wrong. Millie was his soul, his life. She had to remain in this world, for if she did not, then he would soon perish as well.

  “Me . . . lord?” The voice was not one Chase recognized, which caused him to turn around. A tall, thin youth who was in that stage where he was neither boy nor man stood before him.

  “Who let you in?” Chase demanded, but its normal bite was missing.

  “The one seein’ to your front door,” Stuart replied, as if the answer was fairly obvious.

  Chase grimaced and returned his focus back to his wife. He pulled her soft hand into his and kissed it. He was exhausted and he had little energy to care just what else was going on in the house. “I assume you and my wife crossed paths during these past few weeks.”

  Stuart stepped closer and took a look around the room. To him, it matched the palatial quality of the rest of the house. He had not realized just how many luxuries Millie had given up while staying with Madame Sasha and her tenants. “Me name’s Stuart. She sure must have loved her friend a lot to leave all this.”

  Chase looked at him pointedly. “Say what you came to say to her and leave.”

  Stuart was not ruffled by the brisk tone. He had honestly not expected to be let in the front door, and was probably pretty lucky that the doorman answered. “Didn’t come to talk to her. Her ladyship looks in a bad way, but I came to say don’t let anyone tell you that she won’t make it. They said it to me when my father was ill, but they were wrong and they’re wrong about her ladyship too. She’s too pushy to allow death to take her if she don’t want to go.”

  With a furrowed brow, Chase reassessed the young man standing at the end of his wife’s bed. “Your father was ill?”

  Stuart shrugged. “Some say he still is, b
ut he’s alive.” He handed him a bound book. Chase reached out and took it. It was Waverley by Sir Walter Scott. “I thought I might come to read to her. My father woke up when I read to him and this is one of my favorites. But perhaps you should be doin’ the readin’.”

  Chase opened it up and saw that the novel had been borrowed from Hatchards. The boy obviously had no idea that he had a library twice the size of the bookseller. But it did not matter. The book was not of any import, it was the idea of reading to stimulate thought. Chase swallowed. “Thank you. I will do just that.”

  Stuart exhaled the breath he had been holding. “I’ll be going now, my lord. But when her ladyship awakens, can you tell her I came by?”

  Chase nodded. “Is there anything I can do to help you? Do you need a job? Income?”

  Stuart’s eyes narrowed and he backed up a step. His demeanor instantly became defensive. “I did not come here for a job, and I certainly don’t want to work for any man who thinks to change me. I told that to her and now I’m tellin’ you.”

  Puzzled, Chase asked, “What do you mean, change you? Why would I do that?”

  “Like you don’t know,” Stuart scoffed. “First it would be me clothes, then me speech. Titled men like it when blokes like me copy you and such. You get an idea in your head about someone becomin’ a thing and then you go and start tryin’ to change them. I don’t want no part of it.”

  Chase sat quiet for several seconds. “I never thought about it like that.”

  “Didn’t expects you would.”

  “I don’t necessarily agree with you, young man. There are a myriad of reasons why people choose certain positions and lifestyles, but I do agree there should be some choice in the matter. Someday you may set yourself a goal and you will want to change and take my offer. Know that it will still be there if you do.”

  Waving one hand to dismiss what he obviously thought an impossibility, Stuart headed for the door. “I do hope her ladyship gets better. She was nice to me and my kind, even when we weren’t so friendly to her.”