“Look,” Kell argued, “you’re stuck with her from now until the time you deliver her to Penn.”
“Yeah, well...” Jack’s mood wasn’t in the least danger of improving over that remark. “Thanks for pointing that out.”
“You made her a deal,” Kell continued, ignoring his sarcasm, “and even if you didn’t, it’s not like you can just take her off the ship in Mexico and point her in the right direction, and say go. I know you, Jack, and you aren’t the kind of man who would let a woman fend for herself. Even if you weren’t headed to the same damned place she was, you would have delivered her there anyway— whether you liked her boyfriend or not.”
It was true, damn it.
Even if Jack didn’t care anything about her—and he did—he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t know she’d gotten to her destination safely. He felt responsible for her now. He’d accepted her money, and he’d allowed her to leave the safety of her home and surroundings, and he was responsible for her—at least until he handed her over to someone who could look after her just as well.
And that thought left another sour taste in his mouth.
Penn was a lazy, self-aggrandizing mooch. If he cared for Sophie as much he cared for his life’s work, she’d be lucky not to suffocate in her tent if it happened to fall down on her, because Penn wouldn’t lift a finger to help her. He swore he’d kill the son of a bitch if he let anything happen to Sophie.
“Any way you look at it, Jack, you’ve got another week or so to spend with her, so you’d better find a way to deal with whatever it is you’re dealing with.”
A week wasn’t nearly enough time.
His gut wrenched at the reminder.
No more than five more days and she’d be gone from his life completely. The most he could hope for would be to catch a glimpse of her with Penn now and again—while she remained on site. After that... once she returned to Boston, as she would inevitably... what then?
The thought that he might never see her again made him quite literally and physically ill.
“I say you tell her the truth.”
Leave it to Kell to call it as it were.
Jack hadn’t told Kell a damned thing about what he was feeling, but he didn’t bother to deny it. Much as he hated to admit it, sometimes Kell knew him better than Jack even knew himself. At times it annoyed the devil out of him.
As it did now.
Kell seemed to be studying him. “You don’t still believe she’s spying for Penn, do you?”
It would certainly make things easier if she were. Because then he could tell her to take a long walk off a very short pier. He didn’t answer, didn’t want to.
“We’re through here for today,” he told Kell, and began to replace the tarp over their supplies. They would need to procure a few more items once they reached port and then hire a guide, but otherwise everything was pretty much in order. “Grab the other end of this and tie it down, will ya.”
Kell shook his head. “Stubborn bastard. You’re going to lose her.”
He never had her to begin with.
Jack shot him a glance. “Someone put those telegrams into the stove to be burned,” he reminded Kell. “They didn’t just magically appear there. If you have a better explanation as to how they got there I’d like to hear it.”
Kell shrugged, then shook his head, at an obvious loss for explanations. Without another word, he began to batten down the tarp. Jack secured his end, then lifted up his clipboard from the deck where he’d tossed it, waiting on Kell to finish.
“Think Jose will take us out to the site again?”
Jose Salvatore was Maria’s father, their guide on previous trips. Jack sure hoped he’d agree to take them out, but there was no telling what Maria might or might not have told him. For all Jack knew he’d be shot on sight, but the man was a damned good guide, so Jack intended to brace himself for the worst, and ask.
When Kell was done, Jack tossed him the clipboard. “When we get into port, you can go after the items left unchecked, and I’ll face Salvatore.”
Kell broke into a smile. “Hell’s bells!” he exclaimed, “I almost forgot about the fair Maria!” And his grin widened.
Jack threw up a hand. “Don’t start, Kell!”
“I’m not starting anything! You go face him,” he said, and began to chuckle, as though Jack’s choice of words had struck him as hilarious. “You and your deuced women!”
Sophie wasn’t like the others.
Jack rolled his eyes and turned to leave Kell to his merriment.
He wasn’t in the mood.
Sophie was different.
He loved her.
He’d been young and stupid once, but it had never really mattered. Now, finally, he’d met the one woman he truly wanted, and she was out of his reach.
“Where is he!” he heard the object of his distraction shout from the opposite end of the ship. “Where is Jack!”
She had come up from the mess hall and was upset about something. It wasn’t difficult to read her mood, particularly when her voice was raised several octaves above usual.
Good, he needed an outlet.
“He’s workin’ with Kell, Miss Vanderwahl. Over there. But... I wouldn’t disturb him if I were you.”
“You aren’t me!” she answered flippantly. Jack couldn’t suppress a smile at her very saucy response.
“Miss Vanderwahl!” Randall seemed determined to protect her from Jack’s present mood. “I wouldn’t—”
“Let her go,” Jack heard someone say low.
Jack cast a glance over his shoulder at Kell, warning him without words to keep his mouth shut.
Kell’s brows lifted, and he shrugged. “I didn’t say a bloody thing,” he protested, but he didn’t have to. His expression said enough. He was divided between his own sordid sense of amusement and a need to protect Sophie.
She brought that out in a man: somehow made him want to take care of her, though she seemed perfectly capable of taking care of herself.
“Stay out of it,” Jack warned him.
“Jack!” she called out, coming nearer.
She was ready to nail him for something. Jack could hear the attitude in the stomp of her feet as she marched across the deck.
If anyone was going to protect her from his present mood, it was going to be Jack, but Sophie Vanderwahl didn’t need protection. No Vanderwahl he had ever met had backed down before anyone—not even before truth. Sophie was as stubborn as her father was, with a temper besides.
And Jack was ready for her.
Something like birds’ wings took off in his belly as he braced himself to see her.
But he wasn’t ready: Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of her.
Chapter 25
He stood speechless.
Christ, he didn’t know whether to laugh or throw himself overboard to put himself out of his misery.
She came scrambling down the stairs, wearing the tightest pair of trousers he had ever seen in his whole deuced life. That beautiful little bottom wiggled deliciously as she descended, and he swallowed whatever sarcasm he’d had in store for her.
With hands on her hips, she spun to face him, her cheeks blooming with rosy color, her amber eyes flashing with anger. She held out something in the palm of her hand. “I found this in the cook’s cabin!”
Jack couldn’t take his eyes off her breasts... her blouse... it wasn’t quite buttoned all the way, leaving him a tantalizing view of luscious cleavage... and not just for him...
He turned and shot Kell another glare.
Kell shook himself out of his stupor and seemed to understand at once. He nodded, sputtering laughter. “I’m going!” he said, and he did so at once, but not without casting Sophie one last glance. He shook his head as he passed.
Reduced to a nearly primitive state, Jack actually growled at Kell, and knew it was true in that instant that man hadn’t progressed as far as he liked to believe.
In fact, i
t was only a thin thread of reason that kept him from tackling Sophie where she stood and devouring her right on deck in front of his crew.
What in God’s name had possessed her to dress that way!
He didn’t see what she had proffered until she thrust it before his face once more. Something bright red gleamed before his eyes, but his brain couldn’t quite wrap around the object... not while her breasts were jutting out at him beneath the threadbare shirt. If he looked hard—and he was, he couldn’t help it—he could see hardened nipples nudging against the loose fabric.
His brain went dizzy, and his mouth immediately dry.
“I found this in Shorty’s cabin!” she said again, her eyes narrowed at him.
Along with the clothes she was wearing, he presumed.
Jack tried to clear the fog of lust from his brain. “What is it?” he asked stupidly.
“It’s a ring, of course!”
Of course.
Jack stared at it, blinking.
Sun shone into the monster jewel. It sparkled fiercely before his eyes, nearly blinding him. His gaze returned to her shirt. She waved the ring at him again, recapturing his attention, and he had to pry his eyes free from the object of his desire. He reached out to take it from her, shaking himself out of his stupor. He shook his head and cleared his throat. “What would Shorty be doing with that?”
She jerked it away before he could seize it. “That’s what I’d like to know!” she exploded once more, holding it up as proof of something, though Jack hadn’t the slightest notion what.
His brain wasn’t working. All the blood had rushed somewhere below deck.
“No need to shout,” he told her. “I’m not deaf.” Or blind, either ... but he was going to be if she didn’t stop flashing that deuced jewel at him!
“I’m not shouting!” she shouted. “But if I were, I’d have every right to!” she informed him boldly. “This ring belongs to Harlan!”
That definitely caught his attention.
He blinked at her, then at the ring, trying to understand what she was trying to tell him. “Harlan?”
“Yes! Harlan!”
Jack tried to comprehend what it was she was telling him. “Are you sure?” She’d found Harlan’s ring in Shorty’s cabin? He reached out, wanting a better look now.
She jerked it away. “Of course I’m sure!” she countered, waving the monstrosity at him. “This is Harlan’s ring! I bought it for him!”
His brows collided as he stared at the enormous ruby eye. He hadn’t seen a ruby that big in his entire life.
“You bought that for Harlan?”
Her eyes sparkled nearly as brightly as the jewel. “Yes. As a going-away present!” Her face turned brighter pink, but her gaze shifted away momentarily, and then back—as though she were embarrassed by the evidence of her affection for Harlan.
She damned well ought to be. The money she had spent on that single piece of jewelry might have fed the entire Yucatan peninsula!
“And you found it in Shorty’s cabin?”
“Yes!” she exclaimed, waving it again. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me how it got there!”
How the hell was Jack supposed to know that?
He shook his head and tried to reach for the ring once more. This time she let him have it. Watching her expression, he tested its weight in his hand. It was solid silver, heavy. He turned the ring to check for an inscription and found it had been polished clean.
He eyed her speculatively. “And you’re absolutely sure this is Harlan’s ring?”
She cocked her head in challenge. “Just how many rings like that do you think exist?”
She had a point. It was ugly as hell... and assuming the ruby was real, it wasn’t very likely there was another just like it.
She’d found the ring in Shorty’s cabin. That fact reared up at him like a rattler’s warning. The telegrams had been hidden in the stove. It didn’t take a genius to deduce the obvious: Shorty was somehow in cahoots with Penn, and by some stroke of luck, they’d managed to leave the jackass behind. In doing so, they’d been spared whatever Penn had planned.
And Sophie was just plain trouble without the least bit of malice.
He blinked at her, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.
She was waiting for some sort of explanation from him and Jack suddenly wanted to kiss her. He smiled at her, his mood vastly improved. He handed the ring back to her.
“I don’t see what’s so blessed funny!’’ she railed at him, her delicate fingers seizing the ring from his hand.
Jack’s grin widened.
He didn’t care if he had an audience—didn’t give a damn who was watching. He didn’t care if they thought him loony... or smitten... he damned well was.
He reached out, grasping her about the waist, and drew her into his arms. Her hands flew up at once to clutch his shoulders and she gasped in surprise but didn’t protest.
She gave him a pouty face. “What do you think you are doing?”
“Kissing you,” Jack replied with determination, and didn’t give her an instant to protest. He took her mouth in a fierce kiss, thrusting his tongue between her lips to silence her.
All restraint eroded with the first touch of their lips.
Her protest came out sounding garbled.
He gave her waist a little jerk, urging her to kiss him back, and she suddenly silenced, her hands moving to his neck, clinging for support.
And then ... everything faded from his senses but the woman he held in his arms: the jeers from his men, the sun beating down on his head, the wind in his face.
Sophie’s heart surged into her throat as his lips pressed against her own.
His tongue dove inside her mouth without invitation, coaxing... tasting... with the same urgency and abandon he had shown her before.
He held her tightly, pressing her greedily against his body, and she was grateful for the support because she suddenly didn’t think she could stand on her own. She was acutely aware of her breasts shoved against his chest, and her knees went weak. Her belly fluttered with anticipation.
“What are you doing?” she whispered against his mouth. “Jack...”
“Shut up and kiss me!” he demanded, never breaking the contact of their lips. He increased his ardor. “Kiss me, Sophia,” he pleaded with her.
“But... the ring,” she tried to protest, and was vaguely aware of the shouts and huzzahs that erupted from the crew.
“What ring?” Jack murmured into her mouth.
Sophie suddenly didn’t remember what she was even talking about. Her thoughts skittered away.
“It’s about damned time!” she heard someone yell at them, and then she was aware only of Jack.
Everything about them faded but the man in whose arms she was in.
She gasped for breath, but clung to him greedily. God help her, she didn’t care about any ring. It slipped from her grasp to the deck, though she never heard it fall.
Her senses were filled only with Jack... his scent, his warmth, his breath, his taste...
She felt his kiss in places that made no sense: The tips of her breasts burned and her body ached for something she couldn’t quite comprehend. She clasped him eagerly, kissing him back without shame, with complete abandon.
It seemed she’d wanted this all her life... as though every second she had lived, she had lived only for this moment.
As he kissed her, clutching her against him, his knee slid shockingly between her thighs, unhampered by her dress. His fingers closed about the waist of her trousers, lifting them up slightly, and Sophie gasped in delight at the scandalous sensation that flared between her thighs. She responded from some sense of instinct that blinded her to propriety, parting her legs and wrapping them around his hips.
He moaned into her mouth and began to walk, holding her. Sophie hadn’t the slightest notion where, because he kept right on kissing her. And as long as he kept kissing her, she didn’t really care where they went.
; Chapter 26
Somehow Jack managed to get her down to the lower deck.
They practically stumbled down the stairs into the mess hall. Sophie clung to him all the while, kissing him passionately, heating the blood in his veins beyond self-control. He was grateful his men somehow had vanished.
When he reached his cabin at last, he kicked open the door, kissing her without giving her a chance to breathe—because he was afraid of what she might say if he stopped—because he was terrified she’d regain her senses.
He kissed her as though his life depended on it, because somehow he thought it did. If he didn’t make love to her right now—this instant—he was going to explode into a thousand miserable pieces.
He wanted her.
He loved her.
“Sophia!” he gasped.
She answered with a murmur that sent quivers down his spine.
He didn’t want to stop kissing her, tasting her, feeling her...
His hands cupped her bottom, pressing them fully into his arousal, wanting her to know what it was he craved to give her.
“Jack,” she whispered into his mouth.
He broke the kiss long enough to kiss her chin, her nose... whisper against her cheek, “Yes, flower?”
His hands caressed her bottom... firm and round and pert... he wanted her naked beneath him. He wanted her legs wrapped around him.
Sophie’s heartbeat pounded in her ears.
Her body craved something fiercely.
It remembered far too much, wanted something more... something she knew instinctively only Jack could give her. “I—”
She didn’t know what to ask for, except to plead with him never to stop... but she couldn’t speak. Her throat constricted with emotion, and her body quivered as he kissed her throat, gently nipped her. The sensation of his teeth pressing softly into her flesh gave her a jolt of pleasure. Her head fell backward in rapture.
“Jack,” she whimpered.
“Tell me what you want, flower…”
His hand moved between their bodies, caressing her breasts over her shirt, and Sophie moaned in response. “Beautiful,” he whispered.
She couldn’t protest—didn’t want to.
To Love a Lord: A Victorian Romance Collection Page 47
