Decker sat facing the fireplace, his long legs stretched out in front of him. He had never fully readied himself for bed. His shirt was unbuttoned and his feet were bare, but that was as far as he had gotten. Servants had turned down his bed and laid a nightshirt and dressing gown at the foot of it, but climbing into that bed alone was not appealing.
The papers in his hands rustled as he leafed through them a second time. He sighed, not certain what he was looking for or what he had expected to find. Jonna's ill-advised meeting with Grant had offered Decker a perfect pretext for visiting Sheridan at his offices. Grant was properly suspicious, Decker recalled, but suspicious of all the wrong things. It apparently hadn't occurred to Sheridan that he needed to be less concerned about facing Decker than about leaving him alone.
Sheridan's desk had been locked, but it had presented no challenge to Decker. While Sheridan had been called away briefly to the outer office and then to his warehouse, Decker had rifled the drawers. There was no time to read papers in the office and no possibility that ledgers wouldn't be missed, so he had opted for taking a sampling of correspondence. Less clear in Decker's mind was what he might find or even what he hoped to find. He could acknowledge his judgment about Sheridan was clouded by the man's interest in Jonna. He also knew he couldn't allow that to continue.
If Grant Sheridan was the one person who could help Falconer, then Decker had to find some way to answer his own misgivings.
Stacking the correspondence neatly, Decker placed it upside down on the table beside him. He turned down the lamp until the flame sputtered and was finally extinguished. The fireplace provided his bedchamber's sole illumination. Heat bathed his bare feet and the backs of his hands. He closed his eyes and considered sleeping where he sat. It was not so different than being strapped to a chair at the helm of Huntress. It didn't matter that there was no storm visible on the horizon. There was always one brewing when he thought of Jonna Remington.
Behind him the door opened. Decker didn't stir. Had she come to beard the lion in his den or simply to murder him in his sleep? Either was a possibility, and Decker gave no favor to one over the other.
Jonna padded lightly across Decker's room. The floor was cool on her bare feet until she reached the half circle of heat and light in front of the fireplace. She surveyed his quiet, youthful features and wished he had gone to bed before falling asleep. She would have crawled in beside him and laid her head close to his, perhaps even shared his pillow. She would have watched him sleep and drawn a measure of peace from his even breathing and unguarded calm. She might even have risked laying one hand on his chest before she fell asleep herself.
It was out of the question now. There was no room for her.
Jonna glanced at the door. She hadn't closed it in the event she required a quick exit. She resisted going toward it. Heat licked the backs of her legs pleasantly. Crossing Decker's room again seemed like a retreat. It was not in the least appealing even when common sense prompted her.
Instead she knelt beside his outstretched legs and faced the fire. Her shoulder nudged his knee. That small movement stilled Jonna. She waited, wondering if he had felt the intrusion, wondering if he would acknowledge it. In time, when there was no reaction, her head grew heavy. There was no more natural response than to lay her head against his thigh.
Decker looked down at the top of Jonna's head. The deep, rich highlights in her hair surfaced from under the fire's glow. There were shades of coffee and licorice and ebony, and the flames lent it the iridescent luster of a black pearl. He picked up a thick strand and massaged the curling end between his thumb and forefinger. There was no texture so fine as that of a woman's hair.
With some effort he let his hand fall away.
"Don't stop," Jonna said.
Decker's fingers hovered just above the nape of her neck. When he hesitated she raised her head and twisted part way around to see him. Her movement brought his palm against her cheek.
"Please," she said. "I don't want you to stop touching me."
"All right," he said quietly. When he came to his feet he brought her with him. Jonna stood naturally in the circle of his arms, her face lifted toward his. He was not smiling; his blue eyes were intent on hers.
"I won't change my mind," she whispered. "You said from now on it would be my choice. Well, this is my choice." Rising on tiptoe, Jonna placed her hands on Decker's shoulders; then she kissed him full on the mouth.
Decker's embrace tightened. Slight pressure at the small of her back brought her flush against him. He was aware of the tiny ripple in her middle as her abdomen contracted with the pull of an indrawn breath. He could make out the outline of her taut breasts, and feel the pleasant abrasiveness of her nipples as they scraped his chest. His hands moved lower, cupping her buttocks. She fit herself in the seat of his palms, her stance widened, and then she was cradling his erection with her thighs.
Jonna's fingers tightened on Decker's shoulders. She held herself steady as the very air around her seemed to shift. She kissed the corner of his mouth, then drew in his lower lip. She teased him with her teeth and tongue, and found herself pleasured by the play. His mouth moved under hers, in response to her overtures. His breath was warm and hinted at the sweetness of peppermint. She would taste of tea, she realized, and wished she had taken sugar with her drink. Decker deserved something more than the tart edge of her tongue.
The shape of her smile was pressed against his lips. He lifted his head and looked at her. The centers of her eyes were dark and wide, and a trace of her secretive little smile was left on her mouth. He didn't ask what she was thinking. He let her fingers thread together behind his neck and pull him close for another kiss.
She held his face still. Her lips were firm on his, her tongue pressed for entry. She felt his slight shudder when she deepened the kiss. Jonna only knew what she had been taught by him, and now she left no doubt that she had paid attention. When his hands tightened on her bottom she rubbed herself intimately against him. Her entire body provided a sweet caress. Decker felt the loss as a wrenching in his gut when she pulled away from him.
Jonna took his hand and led him to the bed. Her fingers slid along the opening of his shirt, and she pushed it off his shoulders. She kissed the warm skin of his chest and let the shirt fall to the floor. Her dressing gown followed almost immediately. Jonna pushed at the waistband of his trousers while he raised the hem of her nightshift. He stepped out of his clothes, and she ducked under hers.
She hardly knew where to look. The room's shadows were not deep enough to hide behind. In spite of her desire she was aware of her nakedness in a self-conscious way. It didn't help that she was very interested in his.
"Oh, Jonna," Decker said softly, his voice edged with quiet amusement. He tipped her chin upward. "Just kiss me. It will make things far simpler than you can imagine."
She did, and discovered he was right. Pushed as though by a force outside themselves, they tumbled onto the bed. Jonna made a small inarticulate sound as Decker's mouth caught her nipple and began to suckle. His teeth and tongue worried the swollen bud. The smallest flicker of sensation in her breasts brought a more heated one in her womb. Between her thighs she was damp.
Her abdomen retracted as Decker's hand passed lightly over it. His fingertips only grazed her, but every one of her nerve endings was responsive to the touch. Sparks of heat spread across the surface of her skin.
Decker now gave attention to her other breast. His tongue flicked the nipple before taking it in a hot suck into his mouth. Jonna's fingers stroked the back of his head and twisted strands of his dark hair. His mouth left her breast and followed the same trail as his fingers. She knew where it would end though he had never done that before. She was surprised at how desperately she wanted him to do it now.
Decker kissed the flat of her belly. His tongue drew a faint, damp line across her pelvic bone. He moved farther down the bed, adjusting her position first, then his. Her knees were raised, her thighs open to him. S
he watched him bend his head.
The first touch of his lips on her silky, sensitive skin flooded Jonna with heat. Her fingers curled in the bed sheets. His hands slipped under her bottom, and she was raised like an offering to his mouth. Her thighs were bent back and her calves rested over his shoulders. The pressure of this most intimate kiss rocked her. Her neck arched. She closed her eyes.
His tongue darted along the moist folds of her responsive flesh. One moment it was too much, this thing he did to her, in the next it was not enough. Tension pulled her muscles taut. Each breath was drawn in a halting manner as she sipped the air. It was impossible to get enough of it while she was drowning in warm, thick waves of pleasure.
Jonna's inarticulate cry was the first sign of her surrender. Her body's deep shudder was the second. Only at the very end did her fingers uncurl in the sheets and her legs slide to either side of his shoulders.
Decker raised himself up and moved over, supporting himself on his forearms. A log snapped in the fireplace. Sparks lifted and scattered. Shadow and light chased each other across Jonna's face, and for a moment Decker could clearly see her beautifully flushed complexion.
"What else do you want, Jonna?" he asked.
His husky voice was pleasantly abrasive, like sun-soaked grains of sand against her skin. She felt the heavy hardness and heat of him as he settled over her. She knew what she wanted. What she didn't know was if she could say it.
Her hand came out to grasp his shoulder as he started to move away from her. "No," she said quietly, urgently. "I want more."
Decker's smile was small but unmistakably there. "Selfish wench."
She didn't take offense. He made it sound like an endearment. "I want you inside me."
In a moment he was. Filled with him, Jonna let her hands slide over his back. She raised her knees again, cradling him this time and urging him forward. She was lifted to meet his first hard thrust. A spark of pleasure spiraled through her, followed by another, then another dozen.
Jonna moved with him as he moved in her. She did not feel so very selfish as she watched his features become taut with passion and the denial of releasing it. She stroked his arms, his shoulders. His skin was warm. Her fingers could define the muscles across his back. Her thighs caressed his flanks.
She was a single thread of sensation, and she gave herself up to it. She gave herself up to Decker Thorne.
This pleasure was sweeter. She did not come to it alone this time. Decker joined her almost the moment he felt her shudder under him. They shared the vibration and were eventually spent by it.
For a long time neither of them moved. Decker's weight was not entirely uncomfortable. She almost reached for him when he rose from the bed and disappeared into the dressing room.
He poured water from pitcher to basin. Droplets splashed his heated skin. He half expected to hear them sizzle like batter on a hot griddle. There was a mirror above the washstand, and Decker glanced at his reflection. His grin looked decidedly more giddy than rakish. Shaking his head, wryly amused now, he ran one hand through his tousled hair and forced a sober expression.
Jonna was fishing over the side of the bed for her night-shift when Decker returned. He kicked it out of her reach and made no apology for it. "If you want to wear something," he told her, "you can put this on." He opened the drawer of the bedside table and took out the scrimshaw he had given her at Christmas.
Jonna looked at it warily and then favored him with a direct glance.
Decker started to drop it back in the drawer.
"No," she said quickly. Raising a sheet with one hand to cover herself, she held out the other for the ivory pendant. "I'd like to have it back."
It had been his intention to secure it around her neck. Now he let it fall into her open palm. He watched her fingers close over it tightly. Shrugging as if it were of no consequence, Decker lifted the covers Jonna wasn't using to preserve her modesty and climbed into bed. He lay back while she continued to sit there, staring at her clenched fist.
"Jonna?"
She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak. Tears clogged her throat.
Decker raised himself on one elbow to get a better view of her face. She immediately turned away from him. He touched her back and felt the rigid set of her shoulders. "I thought it would please you," he said. "You seemed to like the piece."
"I do," she said on a thread of sound. "It does please me."
There was nothing in her tone to suggest that was true. Decker's hand pushed aside her dark cascade of hair and let it fall forward over her shoulder. He slowly traced a line from the nape of her neck to the base of her spine. "Come here, Jonna."
She hesitated only briefly. Lying down, she turned on her side, facing him, and slipped her fist with the necklace in it under her pillow. Dry-eyed and defiant, she stared at his shadowed features.
Decker shook his head slowly, his faint smile rueful. "I used to think you said whatever came to your mind. I rather admired your straightforward approach. Do you have more secrets now, or is it only that I never really knew you?" When she didn't answer he went on. "What about the necklace upset you? Does it remind you that you meant the ship for Colin? Is that it?"
Jonna's whispered reply was harsh. "How can you think that?"
"It's surprisingly easy."
His simple, truthful reply reminded Jonna that she was responsible for planting that seed. "Yes," she said after a moment. "I suppose it is."
"You're not answering my question."
"I want the necklace," she said. "I even want to wear it. But only if you won't steal it from me again."
Decker started to reach for her, thought better of it, and stopped. He couldn't apologize for something he wasn't sorry for. Given the same circumstances, he would do it again. He couldn't promise her that he wouldn't. "Did it mean so much?" he asked.
Beneath the pillow, her clenched hand began to relax. "I treasured it," she said softly. "And you took it back. I hadn't thought you gave the gift so lightly. I didn't know giving it meant so little to you."
"You know why I took it."
"Do you really think I could have enticed Colin back to the sea with that scrimshaw? It's a beautiful rendering of Huntress, but can you imagine your brother being moved to give up Mercedes, his children, Weybourne Park, or Rosefield because of it?" Though she waited, there was no response from Decker. His silence was expectant, and Jonna filled it with the last thing he expected to hear. "I think you took it from me for another reason."
One of Decker's brows arched. His expression was detached and vaguely skeptical. Inside his chest his heart was hammering. "Oh?" he asked calmly. "And that would be...?"
"Because you wanted to hurt me," she said. "You wanted to get some of your own back after I hurt you." Jonna took a shallow breath and went on before courage abandoned her. "And because you didn't want your brother to know you'd fallen in love with me."
Nothing about Decker's expression changed. His voice was carefully modulated. "Is that right?"
"Yes," she said with more confidence than she felt. "Yes, I think it is. You made it seem as though you were trying to protect Colin from my advances, but perhaps it was just your way of making certain I stayed with you." Jonna's violet eyes narrowed as she tried to discern the slant of Decker's mouth. Was he amused? Astonished? "You could hardly fight your own brother, could you?"
"So you've worked it all out."
His dry tone made her wonder if she had. Perhaps he didn't care anything at all for her and she had just been very, very foolish. "Haven't I?"
Without warning Decker pressed her back against the mattress. He covered her wrists with his hands, pinning her down even though she made no effort to resist him. Her fingers uncurled like flower petals.
"Decker?"
His kiss was deep and unhurried. Jonna felt drugged by it. His weight secured and comforted, and she felt no desire to move or to find any reason that she should.
When he was done with her mouth, he w
asn't done. He kissed her downy soft temple, the curve of her cheek, and laid his lips near her ear. His teeth caught the lobe and tugged gently. The soft breath she expelled warmed his cheek. His hands left her wrists and slipped under her head. He held her, his fingers deep in her thick hair, while his mouth returned to hers. This kiss was longer than the first.
The sheet that had covered Jonna's breasts was now at her waist. The slight arch of her body pressed their aching fullness against his chest. At her belly and thighs she could feel how ready he was for her. With no urging on his part, Jonna opened for him.
His hands framed her face. He watched her as he entered her. She was all eyes and a breathy little sigh. His fingers drifted down her neck. Barely touching her skin, they traced a line around her throat, then straight down, stopping at a point just above her heart. He kissed her again, this time only briefly, before his hands drifted lightly over her breasts.
Jonna looked up at him wonderingly. Her right hand folded into a loose fist while her left one touched the place just above her heart. It was her right hand that closed around nothing and her left one that found the ivory pendant.
She didn't ask him how he had done it. She simply accepted that he could. Her arms went around him. "Thank you," she whispered, then brought his head down to hers.
He loved her with his mouth and hands and body. He moved inside her slowly and pressed kisses at the curve of her throat. She rose up to meet him, contracting around him so that she held him with her arms and legs and even more intimately between her thighs. His body rocked her, and she floated back on a single undulating wave of pleasure. Decker was the storm and the sanctuary and Jonna had no other thought but to embrace both things in this man.
Much later Decker lay on his side, watching Jonna sleep. There were no shadows under her eyes, nor any tightness around her mouth. Her features were entirely untroubled. Beneath the blankets one of her hands lay close to his chest, not quite touching but reaching toward him, palm out. Once again he ran his index finger over the heart of her palm. Her fingers curled lightly, then relaxed.
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