He lifted his head, looking down at her with narrowed eyes. “Oh no, it’s too late to stop now. The bargain has been struck and now it’s time to seal it.” The heated look in his brandy eyes said he meant to finish what they’d started. “You have given me your promise and now I have felt your passion.”
Panic snaked through her. All that he said was true. She backed away, chastising herself for cowardice, but unable to control it. “Why must we? After all, this isn’t a real marriage!” Her mind raced for a way to dissuade him as he stalked her across the room. She couldn’t plead innocence after waving her supposed loose morals at him like a flag. He’d believe her a bigger liar than he already did. “It would be easier to get an annulment if the marriage isn’t consummated.”
“Actually, lack of consummation isn’t acceptable grounds for annulment.”
“Then either way, it isn’t necessary,” she babbled. Her backside hit the edge of the desk. There was nowhere to go. “Who’s to know?”
“I would know.” He continued steadily toward her. “And you would know, and eventually others would. Besides, what makes you think I’ll seek an annulment?”
“You said we’d separate.”
“And so we will. But the marriage won’t be terminated.”
“But what if you wish to marry again—wish to have children?”
“I won’t.”
Her palms began to sweat.
He advanced ever closer.
“Then why complicate things?”
“Why deny our attraction?”
Her mouth went dry, her panic increasing. “I think you should consider the possible consequences.”
“It’s extremely unlikely one night of passion will result in conception.” He stood inches from her now, hands placed on either side of the desk, forcing her to strain further away to avoid him. “I’ve held up my end of bargain and now you must hold up yours.”
She tried to smother the panic snaking through her, to clear her mind and think. But there seemed no way out. She swallowed hard. Her voice came barely above a whisper. “You said, one night. Does that mean it will only have to happen once?”
“Don’t sound so disappointed,” he drawled, sending her a look of mock reproach. “Yes, you have my word. That part of your obligation will be fulfilled.”
Her answer was slow to come and more than reluctant, as her body warred with her soul. “Very well, but could it wait until after dinner? I’m famished.”
His eruption of laughter filled the room. Eventually his mirth subsided to a chuckle. “Agreed, but after dinner I’m calling in your debt.”
As if on cue a knock sounded against the door.
He strode away to answer it.
Kay stared after him, her mind numb with shock, her body atremble with the knowledge of what she’d just agreed to. He thought her some jaded woman— experienced in the ways of men. Very soon he would find out otherwise, and her character would shrink once more in his eyes. He would have good reason to call her a liar.
Ian, the cabin boy, ambled in with the tray laden with the savory delicacies Henri had promised.
When her wits returned, Kay scrambled off of the desk, hardly noticing what words were exchanged between her husband and the cabin boy. All she could think of was what would happen after dinner.
She knew that a man and woman’s body joined to copulate, but none of the actual details. She also knew what a man’s body looked like, thanks to the swims she and Charlie used to take. But that was ages ago, when they were children. She’d never seen a real man naked. The closest she’d come was the night before, when Hunter had disrobed.
The pop of a champagne cork drew her attention to the table.
Perhaps he wouldn’t guess her inexperience, if she played her part well. She sucked in a long breath. How difficult could it be? Married couples performed the act quite regularly, so she assumed.
Reluctantly, she went to take her seat. She watched him fill their glasses in a trance. What she really wanted to do was make a run for the door, but since that wasn’t an option, she gave all her attention to the meal on her plate.
Henri had certainly out-done himself. The turbot in a hollandaise sauce flaked apart with a touch of her fork, the steamed vegetables snapped when she bit into them, but she couldn’t taste a thing. That didn’t stop her from taking her time eating every morsel, knowing full well every swallow brought her closer to keeping her promise.
Eventually, Kay chanced a glance across the table to find Hunter finished with his meal, watching her closely.
Her belly rolled like the bottom of the ship.
He sat leaning back in his chair, sipping his champagne with a wry smile curling his lips.
She tried to ignore his steamy attention and concentrate on her raspberry and currant tart, but she hardly knew what she was eating.
“I need a word with Mr. Pike,” he said, rising from his chair. “That should give you enough time to prepare yourself.”
Kay wanted to scream there’d never be enough time to prepare for what she must do. But she forced herself to nod, not wishing him to accuse her of cowardice as he had once before. Then she remembered something. “Your Grace…”
Her voice stopped him on the way to the door. He turned, lifting one brow.
“My hooks.” Her cheeks fired like candle flames. “I can’t reach them.”
He silently retraced his steps.
She tipped her head forward, chagrined at having to ask him to perform this intimate chore twice in one night.
Her skin quivered where his hands touched her neck and her hair.
She forgot to breathe.
“Thank you,” she said when she thought he’d gone far enough, and she could no longer tolerate the shame of her own reaction one more second.
When he placed a soft kiss on the nape of her neck, a shiver ran right through to her core.
She held her breath until she heard the cabin door close behind him, then staggered to the table to pour another glass of champagne, in hopes of calming her ragged nerves. She took a greedy gulp, willing it to slow the pace of her heart.
Her nightly rituals passed in a trance.
The champagne had a soothing effect, if not a dizzying one, but did little to ease her mounting fears.
Her toilet complete, she sat on the edge of the bunk in her modest linen nightgown, hugging her arms for comfort.
The sound of the door opening made her heart leap. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap.
A soft chuckle snapped her chin upward. “I see you’re going to make me do this the hard way.”
She looked up at him perplexed, “Is there an easy way? Tell me and I will gladly comply.” Then she wanted to bite her tongue, remembering she was a fallen woman.
He looked her up and down, seeming to take in every inch of the night gown buttoned to her throat with long lace-edged sleeves. He smiled wryly. “I’d hoped you’d be ready and waiting, quivering with anticipation beneath the sheets.”
His cool matter of fact approach to the event set her jaw in a stubborn line. She drew back the coverings with trembling hands, then slid into bed, pulling the sheets up to her neck, determined that he should not call her a liar. “There. I’m ready.”
“Oh, no.” He strode to the side of the bed. “I think I deserve to see what I’m getting.”
“What?”
“You can’t possibly expect me to make love to you in your grandmother’s nightgown.”
Kay raised her chin a notch. Grandmother’s nightgown indeed! She wasn’t about to apologize for her wardrobe, besides she didn’t have anything else. All of her nightgowns were just as sturdy as this one since Uncle Fergus had picked them out and he didn’t approve of the flimsier sort. She usually slept in her shift, reserving the great gowns for cold nights, but right now, a suit of armor wouldn’t be big enough.
She gazed up at him doubtfully. “Shall I remove it?”
He cocked his head and gave her a long look. “U
nless you’d rather I did?”
She shook her head vigorously, then sat up to begin fumbling with the buttons. By the time she’d finished, he was bare to the torso and unbuttoning his breeches. Kay pulled the nightgown over head in one quick swoop. Thankfully her long hair shielded her nakedness. She slunk down under the sheets to await him with rising terror.
She couldn’t help but stare as he approached the bed. The sterile, one dimensional image she remembered from childhood couldn’t compare with the magnificence of the live body before her. He was truly beautiful, sleek, tanned, and firmly muscled, with a taunt flat belly and trim hips.
But what caught her attention more than his perfectly sculpted form was his thick erect manhood. It didn’t look at all like she remembered. This was no soft limp tail, but a lance of great proportion. She shuddered at the thought of what part it might play in sealing their bargain.
He cocked her a bemused smile. “Do I meet with your approval, Madam?”
She blinked, then nodded numbly, but failed to keep the awe from her voice. “You’re beautiful.”
He looked at her queerly. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
He climbed into the bed beside her.
She went rigid. When he made to reach for her, she put her hands up to stall him. “Be quick about it, if you please.”
“So now you are eager.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry,” he coaxed, drawing her into his arms. “You’ve driven me to such distraction I could not linger if I wished. But I promise to give you nothing but pleasure as long as it lasts.”
Her naked body quivered against his hot flesh. She willed herself to relax, but with her mind racing and tiny bolts of heat shooting through her like lightening, she could not help but tremble.
He swept her hair away from her face to brush his lips against hers in a feather-light kiss. “You’re trembling.” He lifted his hand to gently caress her cheek. “Do you think I’d hurt you?” He sounded angry. “Have men hurt you in the past?”
“No.” She stared back at him fearfully. All she could think of was Phelia and what he had done to her. And yet, just now his hand had been so gentle trailing down her cheek, his kiss so tender. She didn’t know what to think. Confusion reined, her senses so overwhelmed, she could barely breathe, let alone think.
“You shouldn’t listen to gossip.” The words came with a grim edge, as though he guessed what she was thinking. With one quick moment, he swept the coverings aside.
She brought her hands up to shield herself from his gaze, then, realizing an experienced woman wouldn’t react that way lowered them, forcing herself to lie very still. She couldn’t help thinking there was something she should be doing, but she had no idea what.
He rose on one elbow to look her up and down.
His eyes returned to hers.
She flushed at the hungry look she saw there.
His voice came thick and husky. “Your body is as I pictured it, perfect in every way.” He ran his hands down the length of her, over her breasts, down to her tiny waist.
When he glided his hand over her hip in a gentle caress, a thrill of pleasure ran down to the tips of her toes. Her lips parted. A tingling started between her legs. Something quickened deep inside her.
When his mouth claimed hers, she melted against him, returning his kiss. He cupped one breast firmly with his hand to stroke her erect nipple with his thumb. She quivered, fast losing reason with his hot tongue probing her mouth and his hands caressing her breasts. He smelled of sea and salt and some unknown spicy scent.
When his hand dipped down between her thighs, she pushed against him, fear rising in her throat, but he ignored her whispering, “I won’t hurt you. Let me love you, Kay.”
When he slipped his fingers inside her heat, her body convulsed with pleasure. She writhed and moaned under his skilled strokes, filling her with an unknown urgency. His gentle teasing caress sent her soaring higher and higher toward a crest of pulsing pleasure. Just when she thought she could stand it no more, she burst over the top in a gush. The piercing release that followed left her legs shaking and her breath coming in short gasps.
His ragged breathing rasped against her cheek.
She was still reeling—thoroughly confused, her sensibilities not yet recovered—when he positioned himself above her. When he thrust deep within her, she cried out at the sharp searing pain. Such pleasure! And now such pain! Why had he lied? She gazed up at him accusingly.
He grew perfectly still, staring down at her with disbelief. Then in a split second, his expression changed from anger to acceptance. Muttering a curse, he claimed her lips again.
She gritted her teeth determined to be brave, but sure he would split her in two. But the pain soon receded and she gradually relaxed as the rhythm of his slow thrusts heated her to a simmering frenzy again. As his pace increased so did the fire within her until she reached that point of blissful ecstasy again. She clung to him, shuddering and panting for air. He made one final deep thrust, then with a low primal groan collapsed with his cheek buried against her hair.
It took a long time for her heart to slow its hard thudding. In all her youthful imaginings, she could never have guessed what lovemaking truly was. It was the most deliciously, wicked thing she’d ever done. Who knew such pleasure was even possible. All she could think of was doing it again.
He rolled away, propping himself up on one elbow.
She stared back at him in wonderment.
He pinned her with an angry glare, telling her the honeymoon was over.
She made to roll away.
“Oh, no.” His voice came as low as a growl. He pinned her on her back with his hands on either side of her head, “I think you owe me an explanation.”
She lifted her chin stubbornly. “I owe you nothing, Your Grace. My debt is paid.”
“You know very well what I mean.”
Her cheeks grew hot under the fire of his temper.
“You were a virgin!”
She glared back at him, feeling her own anger rise. “Is that not the preferred condition of a bride?”
“Yes, unless the lady in question leads the gentleman to believe otherwise.”
“I said it was my choice to take as many lovers as I liked before I fulfilled our bargain, I never said I had.”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You implied it.”
“Implying and confirming are two different things. Besides, would you have stopped if I pleaded my innocence?” Her tone turned hard and accusing.
“Of course!” He sounded angry at the slur.
“What does it matter? Everything I’ve told you you’ve thrown back in my face as a lie. Why should you believe me now?”
He ground out a curse as he rose from the bunk. “Being a virgin doesn’t absolve you of guilt.”
“No, of course not! My soul shall be forever blackened for attempting to save a cat!”
He chuckled darkly as he struggled back into his clothes. “That is the most ridiculous excuse I’ve ever heard. You’ll have to come up with something better than that to sway my sympathies.”
“Go to hell!” With a quick jerk, she pulled the covers up around her, then turned her back on him.
A moment later she heard the cabin door slam.
Damn him! He could think what ever he liked. As far as she was concerned, she’d paid her debt for her ill-considered actions. As soon as he released her from their false vows, she never wanted to set eyes on him again.
Chapter Eleven
The clear blue of the Mediterranean sparkled through the cabin window, serenading Kay’s senses like a lover’s song. She leaned against the sill, turning her cheek toward the soft breeze, breathing in the salty smell. After days closeted below deck, she was nearing her wits end. She could not abide being shut up a moment longer without knowing when her feet would touch dry land.
She had had very little contact with her husband between the consummation of their vows and the time they made port in Naples. He spent h
is days on deck and his evenings on shore. Up until now, this suited her just fine. But this morning, staring out the window at the vast blue sea, she felt more a prisoner than she had before.
If she didn’t leave this cabin soon, she would go stark raving mad.
At the beginning of their journey, the cabin had seemed a sanctuary—a place to avoid him. Having her meals alone, taking solitary strolls on deck in the evening, gave her time to think and cool her temper. But isolation had made her restless. She longed for human company, or, at the very least, some idea of when they’d be sailing home to England again.
The nights seemed longest. Time passed torturously slow while she lay listening to Hunter breathing beside her, her whole body acutely aware of his presence. He was already up on deck by the time she rose in the morning. She assumed he ate with the rest of the crew or supped with Captain Pike. She didn’t care as long as she didn’t have to endure any more of his vile accusations.
During the day she had little choice, but to remain in the cabin. It wasn’t safe to be on deck while the Isabella’s crew unloaded the holds. So she spent much of the morning dressing and tidying the cabin. But these mindless chores only gave her time to brood.
How quickly Hunter had abandoned her. As soon as he’d gotten what he wanted, he’d all but forgotten her. It pricked at her pride that he could so easily put her aside, like a toy he’d tired of.
During the brief intervals when she did see him, when he came to collect some nautical instrument from his desk or a bundle of documents, he addressed her with cool courtesy, briefly inquiring after her welfare. It was as though to him, she had ceased to exist.
This irked her to no end.
Their one night of passion had changed her forever.
She would never be the same again. Yet he acted as though it meant nothing to him. His neglect shamed her, making her feel as cheap as a harlot. She’d given him the most precious gift she had to give—her innocence, but his indifference had thrown it back in her face. It was a bitter pill to swallow and a lesson she vowed not to forget.
And to top it off, she suffered alone with no one for counsel. She missed Uncle Fabian. Right now she could use some of his wit and teasing. She missed Grandmere and even Uncle Fergus’ strict devotion. After living in a happy home, well loved and petted all her life, the isolation seemed all the more cruel to bear.
The Thief and the Rogue Page 13
