My Fair Lover

by Nicole Jordan

  “We should begin in the morning,” Deverill said. “I presume we will establish a grid pattern to map our search, so we don’t miss any possible locations.”

  “Oui. It will take a day, perhaps two, to gather the proper equipment and to employ the best seamen.” Louvel followed with a grin of his own, his teeth flashing white. “My compatriots are better suited to causing wrecks than salvaging them.”

  His quip was hardly reassuring to Kate. And even though she and Deverill had succeeded with the first step, her anxiousness abated only slightly when they all drank a toast to their newly formed partnership.

  When eventually they got around to discussing accommodations, Deverill asked about finding nearby lodging for himself, Miss Wilde, and four seamen. The closest inn was in Royan, too distant for his needs. Moreover, Louvel balked at letting any of his rival’s men stay in St. Georges, evidently wary of relinquishing a vastly superior numerical advantage of employees. Miss Wilde, however, would be welcome as a guest in his home while Deverill could lodge with his crewmen elsewhere.

  Deverill replied with a hint of warning in his congenial tone. “If you think to make a play for ma chère femme, I would advise against it.”

  Seated beside Kate on the sofa, he casually slipped an arm around her to cup her breast. Although startled by his bald act of possessiveness and being termed his “woman,” she managed to tamp down her reflexive inclination, which was to box his ears. Undoubtedly his show of ownership was a notice to Louvel to keep away, and she hoped the pirate understood the message.

  Unexpectedly then, Mademoiselle Dupree suggested a solution in halting, heavily accented English, saying that her friend’s cottage was available since she had gone to care for an ailing parent.

  Kate suspected the offer was spurred by jealousy rather than generosity since Dupree was most likely Louvel’s mistress. Clearly she was not happy with the thought of Kate living in the same house as her protector.

  Deverill again made clear his own position, laying claim to Kate as his lover. “Miss Wilde will reside with me. Given our past history, Louvel, you will understand if I prefer not to let her out of my sight.”

  Louvel appeared to bristle. “You accuse me of having wicked intentions?”

  “Let us just say I would not put it past you to retaliate and try to win her allegiance.”

  While the two men stared each other down like wolves, Kate bit her tongue, not wishing to add fuel to the feud.

  Thankfully, Louvel backed away from an overt conflict by nodding, as if settling the matter in his mind. “You may both reside in the cottage, but Mademoiselle Wilde will provide company for Gabrielle here while we search for the wreckage.”

  The beauty did not look pleased with that prospect, either, but she said in a subdued voice, “I will take you to my friend’s cottage. It is not far.”

  Apparently she was eager to get Kate out of the house and away from Louvel. After Deverill arranged a time to meet in the morning, Gabrielle led them out the front entrance to collect his carriage. His men were waiting outside, just as instructed, so Mademoiselle Dupree directed him two blocks down a side street, to a cottage with a blue door, then set off with Kate while Deverill saw to the horses and spoke to his men before sending them back to his ship in Royan.

  Glad to have time alone with the other woman, Kate quickly reverted to French and did her best to seem disarming and self-deprecating while trying to show that she had absolutely no interest in stealing the pirate’s affections.

  “I sincerely thank you for your hospitality, Mademoiselle Dupree. It means a great deal to me to be able to lay my parents to rest.”

  Her shrug was stiff, although not overtly hostile, so Kate turned the conversation to more mundane matters.

  “Is there a market or farmhouse nearby where we can purchase food for supper?”

  “I will send supper to you by one of the servants,” Gabrielle said rather grudgingly.

  “Thank you again. Our arrival cannot be welcome to you. It is clear that you worry about what mischief we will stir, or even what danger we present. I promise you, though, Deverill is not a threat to Monsieur Louvel. He only hopes to put their contentious past behind them.”

  Dupree’s suspicious look was tempered when Kate gave a small laugh. “Men can be such simpletons sometimes, always fighting over minor matters and wounded pride. If we women ruled the world, we would be far more civilized, is that not so?”

  When her comment surprised a faint smile from the beauty, Kate continued in the same vein. “We should help them to get along so they don’t kill each other. I do not want to lose Deverill, just as I am certain you do not want to lose Monsieur Louvel.”

  “Very true, Mademoiselle Wilde.”

  “Please, will you call me Kate? It seems unnecessary to stand on formality when I may be underfoot for some time.”

  “Yes, if you will use my name, Gabrielle.”

  Kate followed with a friendly question about her relatives. “Does any of your family live nearby?”

  More soberly, Gabrielle explained that her parents were gone, both claimed by illnesses, and so was her older brother, who had perished at sea.

  “Then you understand my grief at losing my own parents,” Kate said quietly.

  “Yes, to my regret.”

  Shortly they arrived at a charming little house covered with ivy and accented with newly flowering bougainvillea, and Gabrielle located the key to the front door beneath a clay pot. Kate accompanied her into the cottage, and found herself in a pretty parlor adorned with white lace curtains and vases of dried flowers.

  Kate removed her cloak and hung it on a peg as she praised the interior. “We shall be quite comfortable here. Again, I am exceedingly grateful to you and your friend. We will gladly pay for our use of her home.”

  Gabrielle nodded with her own look of gratitude. “My friend will put the funds to good purpose.”

  After that, she unbent enough to provide a thorough tour of the cottage. Besides the parlor, there were three other rooms—a kitchen, bedchamber, and workroom for mending fishing nets and canvas sails—all immaculately kept. At Kate’s request, Gabrielle devoted particular attention to how to stoke the iron stove and how to draw water from the well at the side of the house, while Kate gently probed about her background and history.

  “You must be lonely when Monsieur Louvel is away.”

  “Indeed, very much so. I dislike it when Jean sails away for long periods. I fear for him.”

  “I fear for Deverill also.” Kate paused. Her goal was to cultivate the beauty’s trust if not friendship and turn her into an ally of sorts, and the surest way was to confide her feelings for Deverill. “It is a cold fate, being left behind to wait for our loved ones to return safely.” She gave a deliberate sigh. “No doubt I am foolish to pine for a man and wish to win his heart.”

  “I do not consider it foolish in the least,” Gabrielle replied staunchly.

  With further discussion, Gabrielle eventually admitted that she came from a good family, but without any means of support she had traded on her looks to become the mistress of the most powerful man in the district. Yet it was not purely a monetary arrangement. In truth, she had become extremely fond of him.

  “I suspected as much,” Kate said with sympathy.

  “Is my fancy so very obvious?”

  “Not especially. I have an overly romantic disposition and a fondness for helping couples find happiness and even love. Forgive me, but I have seen how you look at Louvel. You would like for your ardor to be reciprocated, is that true?”

  Gabrielle ducked her head rather shyly. “Yes.”

  “How long have you been with him?”

  “Two years. But he is not inclined to marry.”

  “In my country I am known to have skills as a matchmaker. Perhaps I could help you in some small way. And if you have any advice about how I can secure my lover’s affections, I would be grateful to hear it.”

  When Gabrielle took her le
ave, Kate thought she had made progress establishing a basis for goodwill rather than enmity.

  She had inventoried the pantry by the time Deverill arrived with their valises and reported on the instructions he’d given his armed men. “I sent them back to the Galene to fetch the salvage equipment. We should be out of jeopardy for a few days.”

  “Why do you say so?”

  “It’s in Louvel’s best interest to proceed with the salvage for now. Until we find the ship and determine if there is any sunken treasure to fight over, he will likely honor our collaboration.”

  “Are you worried he will eventually strike against you?” Kate asked.

  “I don’t trust him not to try. He gave in more easily than expected. He appears amiable enough now, but he’s a cutthroat at heart, and he’s not one to relinquish a grudge.” Deverill sent her a penetrating look. “I confess, I don’t like the way Louvel lusts after you.”

  “Nor do I. But did you have to claim that I was your chère femme?”

  “Yes. He needs to know that you are mine. He will be more inclined to keep his hands off you if he thinks you are warming my bed.”

  Kate hesitated. “Perhaps I should mention, there is only one bed.”

  “Is there? Where is the bedchamber?”

  “There, to your right.”

  Turning, he carried the valises into the room. Kate followed and watched as he set them on the floor in one corner.

  However, he merely glanced at the bed, which was wide enough for two and covered with a blue-and-yellow quilt patterned with flowers. While shedding his jacket in favor of shirtsleeves, he made no mention of the sleeping arrangements, leaving her uncertain about what the night had in store and wondering how they would pass the time until then. He spoke as if reading her thoughts. “Let us go outside where it will be cooler.”

  Kate was more than happy to oblige, since the cottage was a trifle warm. As she led him to the kitchen, she asked, “Would you like something to drink? There is ale in the pantry, along with several bottles of wine.”

  “I’ll have an ale, thanks.”

  “Gabrielle will send supper within the hour.”

  “You are on a first name basis already?”

  “I don’t want her as an enemy. In fact, I hope to win her confidence and make her an ally.”

  “I noticed your effort to make Louvel an ally. He lapped up your flattery. Little did he know your show of acquiescence was a sham.”

  “I had no choice. He would have hated to have his masculinity challenged by a woman.”

  Deverill’s mouth curved. “Make yourself useful and serve me an ale, woman.”

  Kate shot him an arch look. “You are enjoying my pretense of submissiveness far too much. Don’t expect it to last.”

  Deverill chuckled. “I won’t. I know better.”

  Kate poured his ale while he opened a bottle of wine for her. They carried their glasses through the parlor and out the rear door to a portico shaded from the bright sunshine by a sloping roof and pine trees.

  A wicker table and chairs provided a comfortable spot from which to view the sea behind the house. The Gironde estuary boasted sandy beaches similar to the southern Atlantic coast of France but with warmer water and much calmer waves.

  Taking a deep breath of the fresh air, Kate listened to the waves washing upon the shore below. The temperature was extremely pleasant, as was the next hour. Indeed, she couldn’t remember a more relaxed time with Deverill, which bolstered her hopes for the next few days. Sharing the cottage like this, alone together without the hovering presence of family or servants, could only increase their chances of becoming acquainted on a deeper, more intimate level.

  Her hopes were fulfilled for the first part of the evening at least—an amiable, almost domestic intimacy spent learning little details about each other. As pledged, Gabrielle sent a servant with supper in a basket: a delicious roasted chicken, potatoes in a cream sauce, a medley of vegetables, and a loaf of warm bread.

  Eventually, the sky grew pink and gold, then turned to dusk, promising a beautiful summer night. Kate drank in the spectacular view of the moonlit sea, with the soft thunder of the ocean tide as a musical backdrop.

  Some half hour later, Deverill rose. “I’m for bed. Would you care to join me?”

  His gaze locked with hers. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but surely he intended for them to share the bed.

  “Yes,” she murmured, accepting his assistance in rising.

  They carried their dishes into the kitchen. While Kate saw to the remnants of their meal, he lit a lamp.

  He took her elbow, sending a tingling shock down the length of her arm, and escorted her to the bedchamber, where he began to undress. First his cravat, then his boots and stockings, then his shirt.

  Kate stared a little breathlessly at the hard-muscled chest on display in the lamplight, but she tore her gaze from the snug fit of his breeches before he shed those as well.

  A moment later he called to her. “Kate, love…”

  Her heart gave a lurch in her chest when she caught sight of his naked splendor. Deverill had the dark, dangerous good looks that made women go weak, and she was certainly no exception.

  The look in his eyes, too, made her recall the night of the storm, his magnificent lovemaking, his amazing body moving over her, between her thighs.

  Stop ogling him at once, you moonling. The last thing she needed was Deverill knowing how much his nudity affected her—but apparently her goal was hopeless.

  “Come here, sweetheart.”

  When she complied, he slowly bent his head. His lips were tender, soft, as they found hers…but apparently he was only teasing her, for instead of embracing her, he stepped back.

  “Now your turn,” he commanded softly.

  He leaned a shoulder against the door frame and watched as she removed her own clothing. His naked body was distracting her, all bronzed skin and defined muscle, but judging from his scrutiny, he seemed to enjoy the distraction she provided as well.

  The last of her garments was her shift, and when she stood completely nude before him, Kate felt unsure and exposed. For a long moment, he spoke not a word. Her blush deepened as his gaze lingered on her, admiring her bare breasts, the thatch of curls between her thighs.

  Her awareness and tension built, until she was hot with anticipation. “Now what?” she finally asked.

  “What indeed?” His eyes knowing, he smiled sweetly—and even that taunting smile was sinfully appealing.

  He moved closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body, another way of tempting her, she suspected. Every nerve in her body jangled at his nearness.

  Kate stared at his mouth with yearning. The need to feel his sheltering arms again made her ache.

  Then abruptly, Deverill turned and sauntered over to the wardrobe and pulled out a blanket, which he spread on the carpet.

  “I will take the floor.”

  His declaration startled her. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I’ll allow you to have the bed.”

  “You needn’t be so chivalrous,” Kate protested.

  “It is not chivalry but self-preservation. The temptation will be too great if I must sleep beside you.”

  She felt marginally better, knowing she was tempting him also. “We have already been intimate. We might as well continue.”

  “That is not a good enough reason.”

  Her brow furrowed. “In the graveyard, you’d said I must want you for more than comfort. Well I do.”

  “I am delighted to hear it. But I’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Kate stared, taken aback. “Whatever for?”

  “First, there is a small matter of honor.”

  Kate stifled an exasperated sigh. “I don’t understand. In England, you made numerous attempts to seduce me. Now you have grown a conscience?”

  “But here, without the benefit of marriage, we would be living in sin.”

&n
bsp; That would be nothing new for her family, Kate thought. The Wildes were accustomed to sinning. The corner of her mouth curved sardonically. “Even my aunt Rachel did not object to an affair between us. In fact, she gave me some special sponges to prevent me from getting with child.”

  “Did she, now?” Deverill’s eyebrow shot up at that revelation, but he shook his head. “My answer is still no. I decided you are right. We need time to create a deeper bond, without carnal desire clouding our judgment. Which entails keeping physical contact at a minimum.”

  She was speechless. How could she win his love if he refused to touch her?

  At her silence, he flashed her a faint smile that was rather infuriating. “You set the conditions for our betrothal, remember? You wanted to see if a deeper attachment was possible beyond the carnal.”

  “Yes, but I thought since we made love last night…”

  “You wanted to be wooed with romance, not seduction, so I will do just that.”

  “But I no longer want only romance.”

  “Well, I want our betrothal to be permanent, without conditions.”

  “You know why I cannot agree to that.”

  “So we are at a standoff. A pity. The floor looks rather hard.” He glanced down at his makeshift bed before contemplating her thoughtfully. “If you were to agree to wed me without qualification, I would gladly make love to you.”

  Kate’s gaze narrowed. “What is this? Coercion?”

  “If you care to see it that way.”

  There was no other way to see it.

  She had been concerned by his resistance, wondering why he wasn’t pursuing her with an inkling of the same intensity as before, now that he’d enjoyed her body. But evidently he was waiting for her to agree to wed him.

  She folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t beg you to make love to me, Deverill.”

  “Good, since I don’t know how much willpower I can summon.”

  She pressed her lips together. She had a good notion to shake him and make him see reason.

  As if reading her thoughts, he gave a warm chuckle.

  Without speaking again, Kate marched over to her valise. Flustered and vexed, she found her nightdress and drew it on. Then she climbed into bed, snuffed the lamp, drew the covers up, and turned her back to Deverill.