Her Seafaring Scoundrel

by Sophie Barnes

  “Are you sure?” The last thing he wanted was for her to answer in the negative, but he needed to know her heart was engaged and that this wasn’t something she would regret in the morning.

  “Yes.” She tried to pull him back for another kiss, but he resisted.

  “What about Timothy?” He wasn’t an idiot after all. Devlin knew he was the reason she hadn’t given herself to him yet. Because she’d believed it was wrong, still mourned the loss, refused to move on. The reason didn’t really matter, but the power behind it did. Because during the last six weeks, he’d discovered he didn’t just like her or respect her or enjoy her company. He could easily grow to love her. And damn it all, he wanted her love in return. He didn’t want her loving another man more. Not even a dead one.

  She stopped. Just stopped. As if frozen in time.

  Devlin scarcely dared breathe while he waited for her to move, to give him her answer. Because he knew it would shape their future. And he dreaded the possibility of it shaping it badly.

  “He was everything to me,” she finally murmured. Devlin’s heart clenched, as if gripped by a fist. Her eyes found his, their shimmer suggesting she fought back tears. “But I think you could be everything too. I think…” She shook her head. “You’ve always been a dear friend and I know it’s taken me forever to realize this and accept it, but the thing is… I need you. More than that, I want you, in a way I haven’t wanted anyone for so very long, and while I don’t know where this will take us, you are my husband.” She implored him with her eyes in a way he couldn’t resist, then added, “I want to try and make our marriage a good one. For both our sakes.”

  She wasn’t saying she might one day love him, but in her own way, she’d said enough. More than he’d ever expected, really. So he wouldn’t ask her for more. Instead, he would simply kiss her.

  Chapter 13

  Thirteen

  * * *

  Cassandra wasn’t entirely sure when she’d recognized this was what she wanted. In a way, it had happened gradually. But if she had to point at one moment, she believed she would choose this afternoon, when she’d entered Penelope’s cabin and found her cocooned in Devlin’s arms. Because it had served as a stark reminder of his importance. Having his support and knowing she was able to count on him when needed, made her realize that letting him into her heart made more sense than pushing him away. He was family, the closest thing to a father Penelope would ever know, and God willing, the only husband Cassandra would ever have.

  And as this notion had cemented itself more firmly during the rest of the day, the guilt she felt and the gnawing pain in her chest that invariably came with the idea of making a life for herself with a man who wasn’t Timothy had dissipated. Until it melted away completely.

  Allowing Devlin to care for her and letting herself care for him in return would not diminish what she and Timothy had shared. The bond would be different, perhaps even stronger with time, and she finally felt as if that was all right. Perhaps, she mused, because much of the heartache she’d felt had been self-imposed. Not that she’d felt sorry for herself, but she’d been young – so very young – when it had happened. And looking forward at decades of empty loneliness ahead had been horribly depressing.

  She’d never thought she would actually marry. Her reputation had been so tarnished she hadn’t even hoped. Instead, she’d run away and told herself to stay true to her love, because at least then, she’d have something to believe in.

  Except now there was Devlin. She’d never imagined she’d be here with him, on a ship of all places, like this. What she’d done, undressing him as she had, was more daring than she’d intended. But with her decision made and him staring at her as if she embodied his every fantasy, she knew there was only one way to do this: by living to the fullest.

  His lips found hers and she kissed him back boldly, tasting his hunger until they both gasped for breath. And then she kissed him again, because she could and because she loved the feel of his lips against her own. Desperate to touch him, she grabbed at his shoulders and held on tight, reveling in the warmth of his skin and the power that lay beneath.

  “Christ, Cass.” His lips left hers to trail a delicious path down the side of her neck while his hand crept over her hip. “I need to see you.” His breath was hot, his voice thick with desire.

  And then he stepped back, allowing cool air to encase her.

  She stared at him, at his tight expression and the fire burning in the depth of his eyes. His fingers twitched, as if he was desperate to reach out and touch her, but chose not to do so through some force of will. I need to see you. There was no question about what he asked. And since she’d seen him – most of him anyway – she understood his reasoning.

  So she reached for the hem of her nightgown and, pulling it slowly upward, revealed herself to him.

  “You…” His voice caught and he simply stood there, staring at her until she grew unbearably self-conscious. She glanced at her discarded nightgown. Perhaps she should put it back on? Her fingers started to reach toward it.

  “Stop!”

  She shuddered slightly on account of the order, but did as he asked. Labored breaths filled the air. His, not hers. As if moving through water, she raised her gaze to his and was instantly overcome by the forceful look in his eyes. “Dev?” she whispered and straightened herself for his perusal.

  He licked his lips and she shuddered once more. This time, in a far more intimate way. His throat worked and his upper arm muscles flexed.

  “You’re perfect, Cass.” The words were barely audible and yet she heard them anyway. “More beautiful than I ever dreamed possible. And trust me,” a wicked gleam touched his eyes, “I have dreamed.”

  The words – the implication – was scandalous in the extreme. And it did something to her, something she never would have expected. It made her feel wanton.

  He moved toward her, then reached out and let one finger trail down her arm. “But none of my dreams compare to this.” Setting his palm against her lower back, he pulled her flush up against him. “Reality is so much sweeter.”

  What followed was unlike anything Cassandra had ever experienced. Even if she’d been given a lifetime in which to imagine what being with Devlin would be like, she would have failed. Because when it came to the bedroom, her husband was quite the scoundrel. He worshipped her with his hands and explored her with his mouth. And he didn’t let her get away with anything less, encouraging her to do things she never would have believed herself capable of.

  But with every suggestive word he whispered in her ear and with each wicked touch, he made her want to be daring and bold. So by the time they finally joined, both desperate to reach the peak of their lovemaking, she’d either touched or kissed every inch of his glorious body.

  “Bloody hell,” he gasped once they’d found a shared rhythm. “I can’t…Cass…I don’t think…”

  She rather felt the same way. They’d spent so much time preparing themselves for this moment, during which she’d almost spiraled out of control three times already, she wasn’t sure she’d last another minute.

  “It’s alright,” she managed while matching his movements. “Don’t stop. Just…” And then it happened. Like an explosion of light ripping through her and lifting her upward, it carried her off to some blissful height.

  Faintly, she heard Devlin grunt, felt him tense right before he collapsed on her with a heavy sigh. Her hand settled on his back, lightly stroking across his hot skin.

  “Oh my God,” he breathed.

  She grinned, because she knew precisely what he meant. Oh my God, indeed.

  A moment passed and then he raised himself on his forearms. His expression – the look in his eyes – was one she knew she would never forget. “That was incredible, Cass. You were incredible.”

  His hair was adorably mussed but it was the reverence with which he regarded her that stole her breath completely. He shook his head as if unsure what else to say, then he simply leaned forw
ard a little and kissed her lightly on her forehead.

  “It surpassed my own expectations,” she confessed a couple of minutes later once he’d rolled to the side and pulled her against him. “I never imagined I’d…um…well…” Her face grew hot and words failed her.

  Devlin’s hand trailed leisurely over her hip. “I’m extremely glad you did,” he murmured seductively next to her ear. “And I look forward to helping you further your skills.”

  She almost choked, because really, this wasn’t the sort of conversation she’d been brought up to have. Not ever. Although she suspected it might be a bit late for inhibitions now after everything that had just passed between them. And besides, she secretly liked him whispering naughty things in her ear.

  “For instance…” His fingers followed a path that ended between her thighs. “I’ve had the most interesting thoughts of you bending over my desk.”

  She gasped, because of his touch and because of his words, and it didn’t take long before she was coming apart once more.

  “We should probably try and get some sleep,” Devlin told her a short while later.

  Cassandra’s body felt like jelly, and she rather suspected his did as well, considering what she’d just done. She smiled smugly and snuggled further into his embrace. According to the latest bell, Devlin would have to rise in another two hours while she…

  She yawned as she said good night.

  “You know,” Devlin murmured, “you don’t have to mind me.”

  “What?” She’d no idea what he was talking about now.

  “I mean, you shouldn’t let me stop you from saying your nightly prayer.”

  Her stomach clenched with immense discomfort. She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness. “It’s not a prayer.” She whispered the words, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear them. But this was the second time he was bringing this up, and if she brushed it aside now or pretended she was indeed praying when she was not, then that would make her a liar.

  “Then what is it?”

  She closed her eyes, squeezed them shut and wished he hadn’t asked. “Can we talk about this tomorrow?” Please. Don’t make me tell you about this now.

  “I don’t like putting things off. Least of all when it’s important. And something about your voice, the hesitation there and your reluctance to discuss it, suggests it is.” He’d risen onto his elbow, removing his warmth from her back as he leaned slightly over her side. “Cass?”

  “It’s a vow,” she said, hating what her confession would most likely do to the bond they’d just forged.

  “What sort of vow?” His voice was low, a touch thinner than usual.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she tried. Turning onto her back she reached for him, attempted to pull him down for a kiss, desperate to somehow distract him from what could only be a destructive conversation.

  “Considering the fact that you’ve whispered it every night since we left London, I’d like to argue that point.” Pulling back, further away from her, he sat. And then he asked, in a voice devoid of emotion, “Have you been pledging yourself to Timothy while I’ve been lying right there, in the next bed?”

  Put that way, anyone would think her the worst sort of person in the world. And all she could think to say was, “I’m sorry.”

  There was a pause, a moment of brief hesitation, and then he was on his feet and dressed. She’d no clue how he managed to accomplish the task so swiftly without light to guide him. Under different circumstances, she would have stopped to admire the skill, but at this moment, all she could focus on was the rising panic. It reached inside her and grabbed her heart, squeezing it until she gasped with despair.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I need to think.”

  “Devlin, I—”

  “Don’t!”

  She shrank back. The anger infusing that one simple word was like a shot fired straight at her breast.

  “Dev…”

  She’d hurt him. She’d known she would the moment she chose to be honest. But she hadn’t expected this – hadn’t thought he’d react with quite so much vehemence toward her.

  “You are my wife, Cass. A vow was made in church. To me. Me! And by God I’ve tried to be patient and understanding with you. Hell, I never expected you to love me. Not after you told me I shouldn’t hold out any hope of ever sharing your bed or even a kiss for that matter. But now we’ve had this – a moment I hoped for but never dreamed possible – and you’re telling me that all the while we’ve been married, you’ve deliberately stopped yourself from even giving us a chance?”

  “No. It’s not like that.”

  “Then how is it, Cass?”

  How could she possibly explain what her heart had been forced to endure or the pain she’d suffered every morning when she’d woken and remembered Timothy no longer lived, that another day had passed to increase the distance between them? And how could she make Devlin see that she’d finally found the strength to try and move on without him wondering if she was merely pretending?

  “I’ve been saying that vow for thirteen years.”

  He responded with a disdainful snort. “How wonderfully reassuring.”

  “But I haven’t said it since you kissed me. The other night on the deck. I haven’t said it since then because it felt wrong.”

  There was a pause and for a second she believed she’d managed to persuade him that she considered Timothy to be her past and Devlin to be her future.

  But then he told her with nothing but bitterness lacing his words, “Of course it did. After all, you were being unfaithful to him.”

  “Devlin please. Let’s—”

  The door opened, then promptly slammed shut as he quit the cabin, leaving her alone and miserable in the dark.

  God damn her!

  Devlin could not recall the last time he’d been so furious. Perhaps when he’d walked away from his father and never looked back? No, even then he’d not felt this blinding rage, this need to destroy something with his bare hands. Because it wasn’t anger alone that was wreaking havoc on him, but the hurt she’d caused him. After sharing the most spectacular evening together, she’d practically reached for a dagger and sliced him open.

  Gnashing his teeth, he stomped his way up to the main deck and muttered a few cutting words of greeting to the crew he found there. They seemed to sense his dark mood without any problem and quickly removed themselves to the parts of the deck where he wasn’t. Shoulders tense, he walked to the side of the ship and looked out across the ink-black water. If he could only bring Timothy back from his grave and punch him, Devlin reckoned he’d feel a touch better.

  Gripping the railing, he muttered a curse he’d not uttered in years. She was his wife, for God’s sake, and yes, he’d practically coerced her into marrying him, but given their history, he’d thought she’d at least make an effort. What he hadn’t imagined was for her to do the exact opposite. And why the devil did he care so bloody much?

  His heart thumped, forcing a new revelation to the front of his mind.

  He shook his head. No. He couldn’t possibly be jealous of a dead man, could he?

  And if he were, then what the hell did that mean?

  Unwilling to give the question the attention it probably deserved, he forced himself to think back on what Cassandra had said and his reaction. When she’d told him she’d stopped speaking her vow to Timothy after their kiss, he’d mocked her for it, but maybe he’d been unjust. Perhaps she was finally able to move on, start fresh, and live. His lungs felt too tight as he breathed in the air. What if this, whatever had happened between them these last few days, was her trying? Did he really want to punish her then? Or would he rather offer support and encouragement?

  “Care for a swig?”

  He hadn’t heard Monty approach and although he’d prefer his own company for the foreseeable future, he wouldn’t say no to the brandy. So he took the bottle and set it to his lips, enjoying the bite and the burn as the liquid slid down his throat.


  “Thank you.”

  Monty took a sip himself, then returned the bottle to Devlin. “Is there a problem I ought to know about?”

  Devlin’s mood darkened. “No.”

  “So then, the crew has simply chosen to abandon their duties in this particular area because of…nothing?”

  “If they chose to leave me in peace then that’s their business,” Devlin replied. The sullenness he felt belonged better to a five-year-old. His irritation grew.

  “Well, it certainly doesn’t have anything to do with your sunny disposition,” Monty remarked. When Devlin didn’t comment, he sighed, shifted his weight and said, “Just tell me it’s nothing to do with the ship.”

  Devlin looked him straight in the eye, because Monty deserved no less. “It isn’t. I assure you.”

  Monty nodded. “Good. That’s good.” He nodded some more. His lips twisted slightly in that way they so often did when he was pondering something. Finally, he said, “Look, every man on earth who’s ever been married has had the occasional spat with his wife. It’ll blow over. And if you want it to blow over sooner, just take the blame for whatever it is, tell her you’re sorry, divert her with a few kisses, and all will be well. But don’t let it distract you from your work or allow it to get in the way of the crew’s work. Ensuring the ship runs smoothly so we reach our destinations on schedule, that’s all that matters. The rest…is just a part of life.”

  Devlin waited for him to walk away before gulping down two more mouthfuls of brandy. Blast it all but the man was right. He had one primary goal as captain and that was to get from Point A to Point B safely. He could not allow emotion to drag him down, and he could not allow himself to treat his men poorly because he was angry and hurt.

  With this in mind, he strode toward the helm. “The wind is picking up, Mr. Quinn. I suggest you lower the helm and keep your luff.”