Jo Goodman

by My Reckless Heart

  Jonna waited for the feeling of regret to wash over her. It never did. She expected some sense of remorse for having found this guilty pleasure. There was none. She reasoned it was the same with him.

  It wasn't, but she couldn't know that. There was no apology from Decker as he rolled away from her, only silence. It mattered to him that she still lied to herself, that she was convinced he could somehow make her want him. That wasn't in his power and he knew it, even if she refused to accept it. If she had told him to stop he would have. There was nothing he wanted from her any longer that wasn't given freely, and the next time they lay so intimately coupled it would be because she initiated it.

  Under the covers Jonna drew her knees up and pulled her shift over them. Doubly cocooned, she felt less vulnerable now. Decker was turned on his side away from her; the blankets lying loosely at the level of his waist. She stared at his naked shoulders and back. She had an urge to see her hand flat against his skin in the moonlight. Her splayed hand drew closer to his back. It hovered just above his spine before she pulled it back and curled it into a fist. She wondered if he had felt the heat of her palm before she had taken it away.

  Why didn't he say anything? While she felt no regret, neither was she settled or sleepy. He appeared to be both. "Decker?" she whispered, nudging him with her voice. "I think we should talk."

  It was an opinion he didn't share. He continued to give her his back and his silence.

  "Are you in love with Mercedes?"

  Of all the things he thought she might say, he hadn't considered this one. She must have known he wouldn't ignore this overture. He turned over. "No," he said calmly. "I'm not in love with my brother's wife."

  Jonna's brows puckered slightly as she frowned.

  "You don't believe me?" he asked.

  It wasn't that at all, she thought. What bothered her was that she wanted to believe him. His answer was more important than she'd known it would be when she'd posed the question. Jonna smoothed her shift over her knees and suppressed her unease until her features cleared. "Colin told me that you saved her life."

  "I think that's putting it too strongly."

  "He showed me the hunting lodge at Rosefield."

  So that was where Colin had taken her when they'd toured the grounds, he realized. Decker wished he hadn't.

  "He said you gambled your own life to save hers."

  "Have a care, Jonna." His tone was wry. "You may have to revise your opinion of me."

  As he had intended, she remembered what she had told him only hours ago on the bridge. "There's no danger of that," she said coldly. "I didn't imagine that you helped Mercedes without considering how it might benefit you. I've only mistaken your motive."

  He smiled, but narrowly and without amusement. "You thought I did it for love?"

  "It occurred to me."

  "And now?"

  "I suppose you hoped to ingratiate yourself in some way. Did you know that Colin was your brother then?"

  "I suspected."

  "Did he share your suspicions?"

  "Not at all."

  That satisfied Jonna. "There you have it," she said. "He only knew you as a thief. You needed him to think better of you. What if you had shown him the heirloom earring and he'd only thought you had stolen it? You wouldn't have been welcomed into the family then."

  "I wasn't precisely welcomed," Decker said. "I left England."

  "Because you were awaiting sentencing. Mercedes told me how you met her in jail."

  "It seems as though my family did a great deal of talking. Did they offer this information or did you ask for it?"

  "They offered," she said. Then, because the lie did not go down easily, she added, "Mostly."

  "Mostly?"

  Jonna defended herself quickly. "I admit to some curiosity. I'm aware not everyone shares my opinion of you. Mercedes, for instance, finds much to admire."

  "You shouldn't place too much emphasis on that. As you already noted, she has reasons for being biased in my favor."

  "She cares more that you saved Colin's life than her own," Jonna said.

  "She said that?"

  "Not in just those words, but it was just as clear from the things she didn't say." Jonna searched Decker's impassive features. "Mercedes and Colin are very much in love."

  Except to watch Jonna more closely, nothing about his expression changed. "Can't you be happy for them?" he asked.

  It took Jonna a moment to understand what he was saying. Decker still believed her affection for Colin ran more deeply than a sister might feel for a brother. "I am happy for them," she said quietly. She counted on sincerity to speak for her. She would not defend herself in this regard. "Do you regret leaving England?" she asked.

  "We haven't left yet."

  "I meant before. Mercedes seems to think you were determined to make your own way."

  His response was casual. "I believe I said something like that."

  "Did your plans include a rich wife?"

  "My plans always included a rich wife," he said dryly. "I only supposed that she'd be married to someone else." He caught her wrist as she would have turned away angrily. "You deliberately tried to needle me, Jonna. Don't be surprised when it's turned back on you." He released her and watched her draw her hand back quickly. He knew he hadn't hurt her, only stung her pride. "I don't regret leaving England," he told her after a moment. "I don't regret anything about it. You're right that I had a motive for helping Colin and Mercedes. It gained me my freedom."

  Jonna was struck by the husky resonance of his voice. Here was a passion she had not expected, and Jonna wondered what to make of it. "I know you risked it for them," she said. This time when he said nothing the silence was powerful. Jonna had the oddest sensation that he didn't speak because he couldn't speak. "Decker?" Without thinking she reached out and touched his face. Moonlight gave a gunmetal cast to his blue eyes, and she found she couldn't look away. "You won your freedom and risked it again. Did it mean so little to you?"

  "It meant so much," he said quietly.

  Jonna stared at him wonderingly. She felt as if her heart were being squeezed. Suddenly it was difficult to breathe.

  His fingers curled lightly around her wrist, and he removed her hand from his cheek. Her confusion was so palpable that her emotional struggle raised Decker's gentle amusement. "Perhaps you should sleep on it, Jonna. You may find I'm easy to despise again in the morning."

  It would have been so simple to say she found him easy to despise at that moment. The words were on the edge of her thoughts, at the tip of her tongue. She would never know what held her back, but her discretion was rewarded by the flicker of surprise in his eyes. Her smile was vaguely smug as she withdrew her hand from his. Decker Thorne was not the only one who could respond in unpredictable ways.

  Jonna turned on her side, away from him, and curled one arm under her head to support it. Reaching behind her, she found Decker's arm and brought it across her waist. Her fingers threaded through his. Several moments passed before she felt the tension wash out of him. He moved closer, and she found herself curving naturally into the cradle of his body.

  Jonna had no idea what to make of this man or this marriage. What seemed clear to her now was that she liked being held by him, liked the heat and strength of his lean frame next to hers. This morning when she'd thought of sharing a bed with him she could find no comfort in the prospect. Just now it was difficult to imagine feeling anything else.

  She closed her eyes. "When do we leave London?"

  "At first light."

  It would come too soon. In the morning she would be less certain of what she wanted. Jonna knew that now. It would be hard to justify that she found pleasure with him in this bed and that she had let him find pleasure with her. "Then you should sleep," she said.

  He didn't think he would, at least not quickly, but the steady rocking of Huntress in her berth, and the even cadence of Jonna's breathing, brought him to that gentle state long before her.


  * * *

  Captain Thorne was on the bridge when Jonna saw him again. Framed in the doorway that led from the lower decks, she watched him for several minutes without being seen. His head was tilted upward as the first mate directed attention to something in the rigging. Jonna's eyes fell on his strong throat and his dark, wind-ruffled hair. He raised a hand to shield the sunlight. He might have been saluting the sky.

  She liked the way he stood there, light and lithe, his body slightly arched to balance him on the rolling deck. He spoke to his first mate, pointed out something overhead, and waited for his order to be carried out. The last thing Jonna expected was for him to move toward the taffrail, make the graceful leap to its ledge, and climb into the rigging himself.

  In spite of her fear she was compelled to move out of the doorway and follow Decker's progress onto the ropes.

  All of her life she had been watching men do just what he was doing now and had never given it a second thought. Now she felt as though her heart was in her mouth. It didn't matter that his ascent was sure and swift, every step he took pushed her pulse a little faster.

  Jonna didn't think she moved. She didn't think she could have. Yet something caught Decker's attention, and then he was peering down at her. It was the first time his foot faltered. He missed one of the cross pieces and hung there in midair upside down, his ankle caught but his grip having saved him.

  Wind beat hard against the sails and flattened Decker's shirt against his chest. He thought he heard Jonna call his name, then realized it had to be a trick of the wind and water. He couldn't have heard her above the hand that was covering her mouth. She was pale as salt, and her eyes were huge. Decker pulled himself back into the rigging easily, but he knew it was too late.

  Jonna fainted before he was out of the ropes.

  Chapter 9

  Jonna recovered from her faint as she was being carried to the cabin. Her lashes fluttered once, and she caught a glimpse of Decker's taut and impassive features. "You may put me down," she said.

  "I may," he replied easily. "And I may throw you overboard. I'm not yet set on the matter." Seeing Jonna's lips flatten and the appearance of that elusive dimple, Decker smiled for the first time since she had collapsed.

  Inside the cabin, he set her on the bed. She tried to sit up immediately, but the pressure of his hand on her shoulder kept her in place. "I assure you, I'm quite all right," she said. Indeed, she was more embarrassed by what had happened than physically discomforted.

  Decker was not entirely convinced. He studied her face for a moment and then touched her brow and cheek with the back of his hand. "You're warm." His fingers grazed Jonna's throat. Her pulse was racing. "I think you should rest. There's some good reason why you fainted. You may be sickening."

  There was a good reason, she thought. Decker had been dangling upside-down by his ankle twenty feet above her. That sight had been enough to stop the blood flow to her head and buckle her knees. "I don't feel sick," she said. Nothing could induce her to tell him what had gone through her mind before she fainted. He could put any construction he wanted upon her warm cheeks and racing heart as long as he didn't suspect the real cause.

  Decker's thumb passed lightly across the hollow of her throat. "What possessed you to go topside?"

  The truth served her well enough here. "Boredom mostly," Jonna said. "I can't bear it in this cabin any longer."

  Her tolerance for those four walls had exceeded all of Decker's expectations, but something more had prompted her visit. "And what else?" he asked.

  "I'm tired of being afraid." She stared him straight in the eye as she said it, daring him to laugh at this confession.

  "Ah," he said softly, one brow arched. This was perfectly believable. "So you decided to confront your fear by stepping out on a rolling and pitching deck with no warning to anyone that you were about. You might have pitched yourself right into the Atlantic."

  That had occurred to her only belatedly. "I didn't make it even half the distance to the rail. I'm not so brave as you might think."

  Decker almost smiled. Failure did not sit well on Jonna's shoulders. "You're fearless to the point of being senseless." This observation was softened by the kiss he placed on her mouth. Her lips parted under his. Her breath was warm and sweet, and he had the sense the kiss was welcomed rather than merely suffered. He was of a mind to linger, to draw out the kiss in the hopes that it would become another and yet another, and eventually something more altogether. He liked the thought of making love to her in the daylight, of being able to see her pale skin made pink by sunshine, of watching her shadowless features respond to pleasure.

  His body stirred. Hiding the effort it cost him to do so, Decker pushed himself up. It was just last night that he'd told himself it would be Jonna who initiated their lovemaking the next time. He wondered how long he was obligated to keep a rash promise known only to him. Decker sighed. Probably longer than twelve hours. His brief grin mocked himself. He was quite capable of being as senseless as Jonna.

  "Here," he said, helping her up. "If you think you can manage it, I'll take you on deck myself. Just a few feet out at first and you have to hold my arm."

  Jonna thought she would be grateful for the opportunity, but now that it was presented, she wasn't as certain. "What if I faint again?"

  "Then I'll bring you back here and you can try tomorrow if you like. Or the day after that."

  "But the crew... I don't know if I want them to realize I'm afraid of the water. That won't look very good, will it? I mean, what must they be thinking?"

  "They think you fainted because I was caught upside down in the rigging. I've already been scowled at and cursed for scaring you." He saw Jonna's eyes widen. Panic flashed briefly. "Don't worry. I didn't tell them that my imminent demise would have had quite the opposite effect."

  "That's not true," she said softly, looking away. "I don't wish you ill."

  "But you wish me gone."

  "Something like that."

  Decker nodded. He had expected nothing better than the answer she gave him. "Will you come topside? The men will want to know you're feeling better. I think they'll believe me if you're on my arm."

  "Did someone really curse you?" she asked suspiciously.

  "Under his breath."

  "And scowl?"

  "Every one of them."

  "Oh."

  Her surprise amused him. "They admire you, Jonna. They'd string me up sooner than see me hurt you." He stood and held out his hand. "Ready?"

  She wasn't, but neither did she hesitate. She placed her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. "Just a yard or so from the entrance," she told him. "That's as far as I want to go. And if my sea legs turn to water you'll have to prop me up. Don't carry me. I don't want anyone to know I've fainted, so you mustn't make a fuss."

  Decker let Jonna continue to chatter her orders and conditions while he led her along the companionway. When they reached the narrow steps that would bring them topside he placed one finger lightly over her lips. She quieted immediately. Satisfied, Decker pulled the hood of her cape over her hair. For a moment his hands remained on either side of her cheeks, framing her face. "Follow or lead?" he asked.

  "Hmmm?" She was staring up at his face, at the blue eyes that were watching her with unwavering intensity. Jonna couldn't make sense of what he was asking.

  "Do you want to follow me or lead the way?"

  She decided it depended on whether she wanted to be pulled or pushed. "I'll lead." Jonna glimpsed the smile he couldn't quite conceal. She supposed he had expected that answer as being part of her character. What he couldn't know was that when fear made her faint, she wanted to be in a position to fall into his arms, not out of them.

  Decker gave Jonna a nudge at the small of her back. It was like lighting a fuse. Jonna was up the steps before she could think better of it, and Decker had to scramble to stay with her. When she fairly exploded out of the hold it was only Decker's hand on her cape that kept her from going
too far. Brought up short by the fistful of material he held, Jonna vibrated like a plucked string.

  She was aware of several things at once: winter sunlight on her face, the surprised expressions of the crew, and how difficult it was to breathe. Decker stood at her back, his arms closing around her waist. She could feel his chin nudge her head and heard his soft command.

  "Breathe."

  Jonna sucked in air. Cold North Atlantic wind filled her lungs, almost robbing her of a second breath. She tasted frozen nettles of sea spray on her tongue.

  "Smile."

  She fixed the corners of her lips upward.

  "Open your eyes."

  Her smile actually became a genuine one. "They're open."

  "You are fearless. Can you look around?"

  Jonna's eyes darted from crew member to crew member, but her head remained perfectly still. Her lips barely moved as she spoke. "No, I can't mo—" The clipper rolled beneath her, and Jonna felt herself begin to lose balance.

  "Spread your legs."

  That intimately spoken order brought Jonna's head around. Her violet eyes were wide. "What?"

  Decker grinned. His hands moved to either side of her waist to steady her. "You have to meet the ship's pitch," he said. "Widen your stance."

  Jonna's lips pursed prudishly. "You might have said that in the first place."

  "I might have," he agreed easily. "But then you'd still be as immobile as Huntress's figurehead. Stiff-armed, stiff-legged..." There was a decidedly teasing light in his blue eyes. "Stiff-necked."

  Jonna marveled at his ability to make her laugh at herself. "How do you do that?" she wondered aloud.

  "What?"

  She shook her head, bemused. "It's nothing." More relaxed now, Jonna turned in his arms and quite naturally leaned back against him. This time she was able to tilt her head in greeting to Mr. Leeds and to nod hello to an astonished Jeremy Dodd. When the ship rolled again she shifted her weight naturally. "I want to go to the rail," she said.