by Valerie Parv
“Then you know I would never deliberately hurt you.”
He wouldn’t mean to, but he would hurt her. Wanting her wasn’t the same as loving her. Knowing it didn’t stop madness from gripping her. “Oh, Ben.”
It was all the invitation he needed. He gathered her against him, skimming his mouth against her hairline, and along the side of her face to her breasts. Heat powered through her. She answered it by tangling her fingers in his hair and pulling his head up to claim his mouth in a kiss driven by the force of her own desire.
He tried to slide into the hammock beside her, but the swaying motion defeated him. With a groan, he stood up, taking her hands. “We have to find a bunk that will stay still.”
She hesitated. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
He took her hands. “Am I going too fast?”
“We both are.” The hectic color she felt in her cheeks and the pounding of her heart denied that it was one-sided. She tried to be glad of the reprieve but couldn’t. Not when she felt so achingly bereft. She had wanted him so. Still wanted him with every breath in her.
When he reached for the buttons of her shirt she shook her head. “I’ll do it.” If he so much as touched her, she was lost, so fragile was her self-control.
“I’ll be…up on deck.”
He swung himself through the door and she heard his footsteps retreating as he made his way topside. She took a minute to steady her breathing, then tidied her clothing, knowing it would take much longer to restore her peace of mind.
How could she have been so stupid? By admitting that Kevan was gone, she had demolished the last barrier between her and Ben. She may as well have invited him into her bed because they would end up there. She knew it as well as her own name.
Chapter Seven
Plunging into the maze of passageways outside the cabin, Meagan quickly lost her bearings and almost ran into Captain Stafford coming the other way. He steadied her then took a look at her flushed features. “Are you okay?”
His wise eyes looked as if they saw more than she wanted him to. “I’m fine. I got lost looking for Ben.”
“He’s climbing a tall mast. Said it’s as good as a cold shower. I’m starting to understand what he meant.”
The captain opened a door into a large room littered with charts. This must be the great cabin Ben had told her about. “Join me for coffee.”
“Shouldn’t I find Ben?”
Mike put a steaming mug of coffee in front of her, pushing cream and sugar toward her. “He’s best left alone for the moment. You look as if you could use some time out yourself.”
It was true. She cupped her hands around the mug, grateful for its warmth. “Ben’s a complicated man.”
“Most people are complicated. At least his is the good kind.”
She looked at him through a curling haze of steam. “Care to explain that?”
He chuckled. “Forthright, I like that in a woman. So does Ben.”
“He hides it well.” She explained about Ben’s refusal to accept her as an equal. “Is it me, or all women?”
The captain seemed to weigh up the wisdom of answering her. “If Ben acts overly protectively, it’s because he was hurt very badly when his fiancée was killed.”
“He was engaged to be married?”
“To Marina, another naval officer. She was killed when they served on a peace-keeping mission together.”
Meagan’s breath caught in her throat. “Was he unable to protect her?” It would explain a lot.
“Worse. He thinks if he hadn’t been the one handing out the assignments, she wouldn’t have died.”
Compassion for Ben flooded through her. “He sent her on the mission?” she asked softly.
“The opposite. She’d had a virus and he ordered her to stand down because he thought she wasn’t fully recovered.”
She felt a frown gather. “Then how can he blame himself?”
“She was determined to show him she could handle it, and took another officer’s place. Ben thinks if he hadn’t tried to stop her, she wouldn’t have behaved so recklessly.”
“What do you think?”
“She wasn’t fit. She froze at a crucial moment.” He stirred his coffee thoughtfully. “After she died, Ben buried himself in his work. I thought he’d stay a bachelor like me, wedded to the navy.” He got up and paced. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a good life. But a man needs more. From the way he looks at you, I was wondering if you might be the more.”
Meagan sipped her coffee, wincing at its strength. The feelings flooding through her at Mike’s suggestion were stronger still. “He doesn’t want more. After Marina, the last thing he wants is commitment.”
“You think Ben is avoiding commitment?”
“After what you’ve just told me, it would be understandable.”
He gestured around. “Shows what you know. Pathfinder is the biggest commitment going, yet Ben took it on.”
“He told me this vessel provides sailing experience for troubled teenagers. Doesn’t it belong to the navy?”
“It’s on permanent loan. Ben owns it and funds the project himself.”
She set the mug down. “But how?”
“As Princess Karenna’s son, he became Duke of Norbourg with the attendant property and income when he turned twenty-one. He gives all the income to the project while he lives on his navy salary. Nobody’s supposed to know he does it, but I think you should. Might help to understand him better.”
For all the good it would do her. “I know he’s a generous man. It doesn’t change his attitude toward women in general and me in particular.”
The captain stroked his neatly trimmed beard. “Ben’s capable of change. If anyone knows that, it’s me. You should have seen him when he first came under my command.”
“He credits you with teaching him a lot about life.”
Mike shook his head. “All I did was teach him to accept who he is, and show him he can make his own place in the world.”
It was a lesson many people never learned. She guessed that Mike underestimated his role in Ben’s life. “All the same, he’s not likely to risk another relationship.”
“Have you considered he might simply be careful what commitments he chooses to make?”
Mike Stafford’s message became clear. If Ben could commit so much of himself to helping young people he didn’t know, perhaps she was being hasty in judging him. She stood up. “I’d better find him.”
The captain looked pleased. “That’s more like it. I always say navy coffee can cure anything.”
She smiled, sharing Ben’s liking for his old commanding officer. “This is going to take more than coffee, but it’s a start.”
At thirty meters aloft the wind was a primal force trying to tear Ben from the rigging. He edged out along the wooden spar, training and experience keeping his weight up and over the yard, and his feet from skidding on the foot ropes. If Pathfinder had been at sea, he would be fighting a mix of wind, waves and flapping canvas, as well.
Today he had only himself to fight as he inched his way outward, needing the momentum of action to dispel his frustration. It wasn’t only sexual, although Meagan was beautiful and desirable enough to arouse any man. But there was more going on here, and he wasn’t sure what to call it, far less how to deal with it.
“Look outward, stay focused,” Mike Stafford had drummed into him when he was a raw recruit. How did a man stay focused with a woman like Meagan getting under his skin despite his efforts to prevent it?
She deserved more than he was prepared to give. They both knew Ben didn’t believe in happy endings. At least he thought he hadn’t until she came along. Now he wasn’t sure anymore, and he hated the feeling. It reminded him too much of when he was caught between two worlds, belonging in neither. He preferred certainty.
He knew what Mike would say. “Nothing’s certain in life except the wind and the tides.” But what about love? Just thinking the word was enough to leave Ben dangling from the
yard.
He regained his balance in time to see Meagan come onto the weather deck, her glorious hair streaming in the wind as she looked around. He felt like a fool. He hadn’t wanted her to see the effect she had on him, but climbing the rigging had been instinctive, as was his gut reaction at the sight of her. Against all common sense, he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman.
He climbed down carefully. She came to him, dodging the binnacles and ropes cluttering the deck, and he was struck again by how beautiful she was. His stomach clenched and he felt overheated, knowing better than to blame the arduous climb. Only as she reached him did he see that her face was white. “What is it?”
“It’s Molly. Captain Stafford just got a call from Hannah. She guessed you might be here. Oh, Ben, Molly’s missing.”
He was moving as he spoke. “How long?”
She struggled to keep pace, and he took her arm to help her negotiate the coiled lines and gear strewing the deck. “Less than an hour. She was gone when Hannah checked on her during her nap.” She clutched his hand. “I should have stayed with her.”
He heard the self-condemnation in her voice. “It won’t help to blame yourself. She can’t be far.”
“Unless the conspirators have taken her as a way to get back at us. Shane always said she’d be the one to suffer if I crossed him.”
Ben turned her to face him, wanting to take her in his arms and kiss her until he drove out the fear, but he kept his touch reassuring. “Listen to me. She may have been confused by the strange surroundings, and wandered off. But if she has been taken, we’ll find her. Either way, you’ll get her back, I promise.”
Meagan drew strength from his confidence, wanting to trust him. It was unnerving, putting her faith in him after relying on herself for so long, but she sensed that if anyone could bring Molly back safely, he could. She had seen enough to know he cared about the little girl.
Hannah was white-faced and pacing up and down, when they joined her at the house. “She was asleep when I went to unpack Miss Moore’s things. Then when I went back to check, she was gone.”
“Stop this, nobody’s blaming you,” Ben snapped in a command tone. Hannah became visibly calmer. “Now tell me where you’ve searched.”
She explained that she had scoured the house from top to bottom, and had begun to check the grounds when Ben returned. “I’ll finish out there,” Ben said. “You stay by the phone.”
The implication that there might be a ransom demand or threat chilled Meagan’s blood, threatening to paralyze her, but she fought it. Ben could be right. Molly could simply have wandered off. “I’ll check out front,” Meagan said.
“We’ll meet out back in five minutes.”
They were the longest five minutes of Meagan’s life. It didn’t take her long to search the compact front garden. Then she went out into the cobbled street, calling Molly’s name, growing steadily more terrified when no answer came.
If Shane’s people had found them somehow, Meagan knew she would never forgive herself. How could she have lost herself in Ben’s arms, even for a moment, while her child was in danger? If she could only have Molly back safely, this would never happen again, Meagan promised herself.
Ben’s voice penetrated her terror. “It’s all right, I’ve found her.”
Meagan raced around the side of the house, following Ben’s voice to the former coachhouse now serving as a garage. A small door opened in the bottom of the massive main door. She went through at a crouching run, then straightened to find her daughter cradled against Ben’s broad chest. Molly’s head rested against his shoulder and one tiny hand clutched the front of his shirt. The other gripped Mr. Snug by the leg.
Meagan’s heart did a back-flip. Molly was all right. She was safe. Ben had kept his promise. Heart pounding, she went to them and stroked her baby’s hair, keeping her voice low although Ben had to hear the tremor in it. “Where were you, sweetheart? Mummy was so worried.”
Molly stuck a thumb into her mouth. Over the blond curls, Ben said, “She woke up and missed her teddy bear, then must have remembered she’d left it in the car and came looking for it. I found her in the back seat, fast asleep.”
“What made you think to look in the car?”
“A hunch. I remembered seeing her with the doll, but not Mr. Snug.”
He had remembered how important both toys were to Molly. Watching him talk to the little girl to reassure her, Meagan felt her chest tighten until it could barely contain her overflowing heart. She was emotionally vulnerable right now, but she also knew beyond a shadow of doubt that she was close to falling in love with Ben.
When had she crossed the line? Having a man care as much about her child as she did was a powerful aphrodisiac, but there was much more.
It was Ben himself. She had never known anyone who cared as much as he did. About his family, his country, his work, young people in need. He’d brought her and Molly here because he cared. It wasn’t only physical, although his kisses took her breath away. She had only to remember how close they had come to making love aboard Pathfinder. If the stupid hammock had held still…thinking about it was enough to make her head spin.
At the same time, old fears swirled to the surface, warring with the pleasure. She couldn’t afford to let herself feel this way. There were consequences. The child in Ben’s arms was proof. Just because Shane’s people hadn’t taken Molly this time, didn’t mean he wouldn’t track them down and harm her child. Meagan vowed not to seek the comfort of Ben’s arms again as long as Molly was in danger, but knew it would be a painful promise to keep.
Molly opened her fist to show Ben a tiny star-shaped object. “Look. Pretty button.”
Ben traded a concerned look with Meagan. “Can I see it?”
Trustingly, the child surrendered the object. Ben studied it, frowning. “Looks like a surveillance device to me. It must have been hidden in the baby seat.”
Meagan set her own turmoil aside. “Are you saying someone bugged my car?”
He nodded grimly, and fear fisted around her heart. “Who would have put it there?”
He didn’t have to answer. “Shane. He didn’t trust me to cooperate, so he took precautions.”
Molly made a grab for the device. “Want my button.”
Ben hugged Molly. “Hannah has much prettier buttons than this old thing. Shall we go and ask her?”
“Yes, please.” Molly linked her chubby hands around his neck. They looked so natural together that Meagan could hardly bear it. Not even with Shane had her child been so trusting. The feeling was mutual, she saw as he carried Molly into the house, paying close attention to her chatter.
Although he reassured her that nobody blamed her, Hannah looked near tears and vowed over and over that she wouldn’t let the child out of her sight again. At Ben’s request she got out a jar of buttons, and sat down beside Molly as she began to sort them. Distracted, Molly didn’t protest when Ben pocketed the star-shaped one.
Watching the little girl play, Ben said, “At the castle, a team of investigators is working on the kidnappings. I’ll have to get this device to their commander, Adam Sinclair. It may be a vital clue.”
“I thought it wasn’t safe to return to the castle?”
Ben juggled the device in his palm. “Right now we’re between a rock and a hard place. The conspirators know where you are. I can protect you more readily in a secure environment, so the castle it is.”
He went to a well-stocked bar and poured two glasses of brandy, handing one to Meagan. When she protested that she didn’t like spirits, he said, “You’ve had a shock. It will help calm you down.”
She took a gulp, felt herself turn beet red. The fire was followed by a spreading sensation of warmth. She put the glass down. “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”
His jaw tightened. “This has got to end.”
Exactly what she had been thinking, although she knew he meant the situation with the missing King Michael. “Edward is doing a goo
d job filling in for the king, isn’t he?” she asked, forcing herself to focus on the situation. Bad as it was, it was more clear-cut than her turbulent feelings for Ben.
A frown of concern darkened Ben’s features, making Meagan ache to smooth it away. She linked her hands to keep them still as Ben said, “He’s doing his best to fill Michael’s shoes, but Edward isn’t up to it. He’s been living in America for so long that he’s out of touch. It would be easier if Prince Nicholas could return from the secret location, but his life would be in danger.”
It was all so complicated. Fleetingly Meagan found herself longing for the simplicity of life with Molly and her work as a dressmaker. If Shane had understood the difficulties and strictures of royal life, would her brother have been so envious? From Ben she had gathered that it wasn’t all ease and privilege and people bowing before you. The responsibilities weighed heavily as well as the dangers.
Thinking of Ben in jeopardy, Meagan felt her throat threaten to close. She looked at him, seated in a chair opposite her, vigilant even in relaxation. His long fingers curled around his drink, making her recall how they’d felt curled around her arms. How his generous mouth had moved over hers, eliciting responses she was powerless to withhold.
She took another cautious sip of brandy, deciding to redirect her thoughts before they got completely out of hand. “Mike Stafford told me about the Pathfinder project being your baby.”
Ben’s features wrinkled in annoyance. “Mike has a big mouth.”
She set her drink aside. She didn’t mention why Mike had felt the need to tell her Ben’s secret. “He also has a big heart. He cares about you.”
His shoulders lifted slightly. “I’ve known that for a long time.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you financed the project out of your own funds?”
He straightened. “What difference does it make?”
She kept her gaze on her linked fingers. “More than you think. It tells me you’re not wary of commitment at all.”
He stood up, looming over her. “And now you’ve discovered that I’m a closet philanthropist, and everything is clear, is that what you’re going to tell me?”
