Desire and Deception

by Nicole Jordan

  Jason couldn't help but feel admiration as he watched her. Her manner was curt and poised, as if she were speaking to a disobedient servant. Her response was a novel experience for him. He was used to men instantly obeying his orders, and he could hardly be unaware that women found him attractive. He had to smile.

  The sudden change in his expression made Lauren catch her breath. Deep indentations creased his bronzed cheeks in slashing masculine dimples, making the strong planes of his face appear less forbidding, indeed, almost beautiful. He didn't seem quite so intimidating when he smiled, Lauren thought, and although her experience with men was limited, she could easily see the potential force of Jason's charm. She had little doubt women would find him irresistible—especially now, with his eyes dancing with vibrant life. Seeing the sudden sparkle in those vivid sapphire eyes, though, Lauren stared at Jason suspiciously, wondering what he was planning.

  He ignored her display of defiance and rested one hip on the table beside her chair, leisurely swinging a booted foot. "So, Sleeping Beauty," he continued thoughtfully, as if working a puzzle out, "you are fleeing something or someone, and you want to go to America where you presumably have friends. But you're alone, without much money, and you need assistance. Additionally, you're determined not to trust anyone, least of all me."

  Lauren shifted uncomfortably, looking down at her clasped hands. Was he a warlock, to be able to guess so accurately?

  "You want to go to America," Jason mused. "It was rather foolish of you to run away from home without first providing yourself with proper funds for such a voyage."

  A flush stained Lauren's cheeks, chasing away the waxen paleness of her skin. "I am willing to work my passage," she muttered defiantly.

  Jason startled her by reaching for her hand. Holding it between his large calloused ones, he considered the slender appendage, his thumb swirling gently over her palm. "Soft and white," he murmured. "Unused to physical hardship. I find it hard to believe this lovely hand has ever seen a day's toil."

  Angered by his presumption, Lauren freed her hand from his grasp. "There are ways women have of earning money that a man like you should be well aware of, Captain."

  "Are there now?"

  Lauren lost some of her composure as she met Jason's amused gaze. The glint of laughter in those teasing blue eyes unnerved her. She looked down again—although her gaze was arrested midway as she glimpsed the pistol tucked in Jason's belt. Lauren sucked in her breath. If she could distract him . . . Did she dare try?

  "Of course," she forced herself to say smoothly. "Did you not come here tonight for that very purpose?" She was drawing on her recent experiences; for during the course of the past few weeks, she had witnessed more than one doxy plying her trade. Trying to remember how it was done, Lauren rose slowly, holding Jason's gaze with her own. "I could offer myself to you, for instance." Purposely she swayed toward him, then boldly pressed her hand against his chest, attempting to ignore the disturbing feel of hard muscles beneath her fingers. "Do you find me . . . attractive, Captain?"

  She could tell by the sudden darkening of his eyes that he at least was interested. Encouraged, Lauren trailed her fingers slowly down his shirtfront. Jason watched her, his eyes smoldering as her hand moved still lower, till it rested at his waist. "Would you consider me worth a hundred guineas?" she asked in a husky tone that set his pulses racing.

  Jason drew a deep breath at her suggestion, but he managed a chuckle. "I'm no seducer of virgins," he replied, wondering what she intended with her playacting.

  "But I'm no virgin."

  Her response came so swiftly, so easily, that Jason wasn't certain that it was another of her fabrications. His brows snapped together in a scowl. "You would sell yourself to me? For a hundred guineas?"

  "Why, Captain Stuart," Lauren said sweetly. "Is the price too great?" Then seizing her chance, she pulled the pistol from his belt and pointed it unsteadily at his chest.

  Jason gave no indication that his faculties had become instantly alert, but his muscles contracted with tension and inwardly he cursed. He had been so stirred with her beauty and the headiness of her scent that he had failed to realize her intention.

  Forcing his lips into a tolerant smile as she waved his own weapon at him, he indicated the pistol with a nod of his head. "Do you even know how to use that?"

  She surprised him by smiling. It was a sensuous gesture, Jason thought, watching her lips—and quite seductive. He was reminded of a cat stretching in the sun, even though she hadn't moved.

  "Not at all," Lauren replied. "But it couldn't be so very difficult. You merely pull the trigger, do you not?"

  Again Jason didn't know whether or not he could believe her, but he had had quite enough of being held at gunpoint. Looking beyond her, he spoke to some invisible presence, which made Lauren glance over her shoulder. In only a moment Jason had taken the pistol from her and had it safely tucked inside his belt again.

  Stunned to have so quickly lost her advantage, Lauren stared at him in dismay. "That wasn't fair," she said in a voice that shook slightly and reminded him of a petulant child.

  "I suppose it wasn't, from your perspective," Jason replied. But he wanted to erase the distress from her eyes and bring back that singular smile of hers. He took a step closer, and gently grasping her shoulders, drew her to him.

  Caught off guard, Lauren pushed against his chest, but her resistance was no match for his great strength. Jason held her easily as he bent to brush her mouth in a kiss that was light and searching.

  When he raised his head, Lauren stared up at him in shock. That brief contact had jolted her, sending a strange sensation racing through her.

  He seemed to have felt it as well. Still holding her, he arched one tawny brow and regarded her thoughtfully. Then to Lauren's complete horror, he drew her still closer. She could feel the power coiled in his hard body as she pressed full-length against him.

  Slowly, he reached up to settle his palm against the side of her face. "This won't be fair, either," he warned in a velvet murmur, and lowered his lips once more.

  This time he actually kissed her, his arms coming around her as he captured her mouth. Yet the effect was the same as before. A lightning bolt of sensation shot through Lauren, frightening her with its intensity.

  She tried to pull away, but Jason wouldn't allow it. His fingertips caressed her cheek while his lips moved slowly over hers, as if he were tutoring her response.

  And as his kiss deepened, she did respond. Had Lauren been more experienced, she would have recognized her reaction for what it was: the primitive attraction a female had for a vital, virile male. Instead, she only knew that she was trembling. His mouth was hot and urgent, and even in her innocence, she could feel the raw hunger in him. She couldn't seem to catch her breath. . . .

  When he at last raised his magnificent head, Lauren simply stood there, staring up into those startlingly blue eyes and wondering at his ability to arouse such powerful sensations in her. Dazed, she raised her fingers to her burning lips.

  Jason smiled tenderly down at her. "Won't you allow me to help you?" he asked gently, his voice as husky as hers.

  Then suddenly his eyes narrowed, his attention arrested by the ring on her third finger. He stared at it for a long moment.

  "I'll be damned," he said softly, before he began to laugh.

  He released her then—abruptly—but his chuckles continued vibrating softly in his chest. Lauren watched him warily, wondering what she had done that was so humorous.

  Her concern grew when his expression showed no sign of sobering. Had he suddenly lost his senses? He seemed to be trying to stifle his amusement but he was failing miserably. And when he glanced at her again, she could see the wicked sparkle in his blue eyes. Lauren began to feel annoyed by his mirth. His next words, however, set her heart slamming against her ribs.

  "Sit down, Miss Carlin," Jason managed to say, his voice still full of laughter. "It appears we have a great deal to talk about after all.
"

  Her mouth went dry. He knew. Somehow he had guessed. Lauren sank into the chair, burying her face in her hands.

  Jason was still grinning when Lila returned with a loaded tray. He waved the food away and picked up the bottle of wine, pouring three glasses of the ruby liquid with a flourish.

  Lauren didn't speak or even lift her head as she accepted the glass he offered her. But Jason smiled, his teeth flashing white against his tan. Whatever premonition he had had earlier about his life changing had been accurate, he realized.

  Gazing tenderly down at the golden head bowed in defeat, Jason raised his glass high. "To Miss Andrea Carlin," he said softly. "To my runaway bride."

  Chapter Four

  Draining his glass, Jason leisurely poured himself another measure of wine. "Leave us, Lila," he said calmly, his gaze still focused on Lauren's bowed head.

  "But, shouldn't I—"

  "Miss Carlin will come to no harm, I assure you. We hadn't finished our discussion yet. Had we, Sleeping Beauty?"

  Lauren made no answer as she twisted a pleat of her skirt between slender white fingers. Puzzled, Lila looked from her to Jason, sensing the tension that stretched between the two of them. But she knew Jason was a man of his word and decided not to interfere. As she accompanied him to the door, however, she pleaded with him in an audible whisper to remember the girl's recent harrowing experience and to be gentle with her. Lauren was left to stare at Jason's wineglass which was sitting on the table beside her.

  Her heart began thudding against her rib cage as she remembered the vial of sleeping drops Lila had given her. Without giving herself time to change her mind, Lauren retrieved the tiny bottle from her sleeve and hurriedly removed the stopper. After pouring a small amount of the colorless liquid into Jason's wine, she hid the bottle beneath her chair, then clasped her trembling hands in her lap as she stole a glance at him. She hadn't been seen, she realized with elation. If only he would drink the drugged wine, she could escape—

  Jason shut the door and slowly crossed the room to her side, trying to recall where his thoughts had been leading him before he had been interrupted. Lauren was watching him rather anxiously now, he realized as he picked up his wineglass and raised it to his lips. He could see a flickering light in the golden- green depths before she bowed her head again. What was it? Guilt? Fear? Uncertainty?

  "How did you know who I was?" she asked quietly. "Did my guardian send you to find me?"

  "I've never had the privilege of meeting your guardian," Jason answered dryly. "My ship only arrived in port today. But my father gave me a description of you when he told me of the marriage he'd arranged. And that ring you're wearing is engraved with a soaring hawk. The Carlin emblem is well known to anyone in shipping. Furthermore, you were upset to learn who I was."

  When Lauren lifted her gaze, her eyes were pleading. "Please, don't return me to my guardian."

  "Tell me why, sweetheart," Jason replied. "And no more lies, if you please. Burroughs, is that his name? Is it Burroughs who has you so frightened?"

  "Yes . . . He would have forced me to wed you."

  "I doubt that he could have done so, however—if only because I have no wish to drag a reluctant bride to the alter."

  Lauren searched Jason's face, unsure whether he was telling the truth. She found herself wanting to believe him, yet the same instinctive caution that had kept her from being discovered by Burroughs's men warned her not to trust this tall, blue-eyed captain as thoroughly as she wished to.

  "But let us put that aside for a moment," Jason continued. "The thought of marriage was so distasteful to you that you ran away. With . . . Matthew, was it? And then Matthew was nearly killed?"

  "Yes," she replied hoarsely, thinking it wiser to answer him since he had already guessed so much of her story. "Matthew was my friend, as I said. He was helping me. When my guardian's men found us, one of them . . . tried to stab Matthew with a sword."

  "And then?" Jason prompted.

  Shutting her eyes, Lauren tried to ignore the tight ache in her throat. "That's all. Matthew was determined to lead them away from me, so we separated. I spent the last of my money on coach fare to London, but those men followed me . . . and then you rescued me."

  Jason pursed his lips as he contemplated her. "Well, it appears that your guardian was still within the law. You are a minor, subject to his authority. If he felt he was protecting you—"

  "Protecting me!" Lauren clenched her fists in dismay. "You don't know him. He only wants to keep—" She broke off, suddenly, realizing what she had almost revealed. "I won't go back," she vowed. "I will never go back!"

  Jason met her defiant gaze calmly. "Very well, you won't go back. But I will have to make some other arrangements for you. I can hardly allow you to walk the streets. And with England at war with both France and the United States, I cannot in good conscience put you on board a ship, passage money or no."

  "You are not responsible for me, Captain Stuart."

  Jason sighed. Getting her to listen was proving to be more difficult than rescuing a treed kitten. But he wouldn't give up. That air of vulnerability that surrounded her had aroused his chivalrous instincts—not to mention that her haunting loveliness was still playing havoc with his masculine urges. Besides, he was more than a little curious about the mystery she presented.

  He supposed that had they met under more normal circumstances, he would have found her just as intriguing. But the circumstances were not normal. And it seemed that he didn't have much time to convince her that she needed his help. He couldn't keep her locked in this room indefinitely. She would likely find a way to escape, and at any rate, he had other obligations to fulfill. He had been spared the visit to Cornwall, but he still had responsibilities to his crew and country. His ship was due to sail from England within a fortnight, and it was out of the question for him to take her with him.

  Moving away so he wouldn't be distracted by her nearness, Jason swirled the wine in his glass as he pondered the problem.

  Lauren interrupted his musings. "It wouldn't work,

  Captain," she said, causing Jason to wonder how much she had read of his thoughts. "You couldn't keep me here against my will."

  Jason gave her a disarming smile, displaying the slashing masculine dimples that always won female hearts. "I'm aware of that. However, I was considering another alternative."

  "Such as?"

  She was immediately on her guard, he noted. He took a deep breath and gambled. "You could always honor the arrangement and marry me."

  "What?"

  "Now," he added, hearing her sharp inhalation. "At once. Without allowing your guardian a say in the matter."

  He couldn't complain now that she was avoiding his gaze. She was looking at him as if he had completely lost his senses. Grinning inwardly at himself, Jason wondered if it were true. But he suspected he was in complete command of his faculties, and still he wanted her for his wife.

  Had he been given the chance, of course, he would have wooed her and won her, and after a discreet interval—mainly because of her age rather than any reluctance on his part—he would have wed her. But now that she was running away, especially since she was running from him, he would have to take responsibility for her.

  Marriage would provide the best opportunity for her protection, of course. And if he were to marry her secretly and hide her away at his small estate in Yorkshire until Burroughs could be investigated, he could then be assured of her safety. He would even exercise patience in the matter of conjugal duties, Jason thought with a mental groan, for despite her enticing figure and her regal carriage, she was still inexperienced. He had recognized her innocence the moment his lips had touched hers, even if she had denied being a virgin when she had propositioned him. And although it wasn't unusual for a young woman her age to have married or even to have borne a child, he wouldn't press her or expect her to share his bed until she was entirely ready.

  "I asked you to marry me," he said more easily this tim
e, feeling more comfortable with the idea that fate had somehow taken command of his life.

  Lauren stared at him, her poise completely shattered. "You are joking, of course."

  He repressed a smile at her bewildered expression. "Not at all. I've never considered a proposal of marriage to be a joking matter. And it's by far the best solution to this situation."

  Lauren ran her tongue over her suddenly dry lips, trying to sort out her reeling thoughts. Marriage to him was impossible, most assuredly. He believed she was Andrea Carlin, the heiress to a shipping empire. He wanted her dowry, of course. Why else would he want to marry her, a girl with no future, no fortune, and no name, unless he wanted the Carlin ships? But even if she were willing to marry him—which she never would be—she couldn't endanger his life by making him a target of Regina Carlin's murderous ambitions.

  Lauren searched Jason's handsome face, her stomach muscles suddenly tensing as she was assailed by a deeper fear. Had she misjudged him? Was he somehow in league with her guardian? Had he been sent by George Burroughs to prevent her from leaving England?

  "Why?" she asked Jason abruptly, her voice breathless.

  Because we were made for each other, he nearly replied. Because fate brought us together, and now that I've found you, I won't let you go.

  But he didn't voice his thoughts, knowing such assertions wouldn't possibly be accepted. Instead, he smiled and said lightly, "I could think of any number of valid reasons. The protection my name offers, for one. Because I am better able to slay the dragons pursuing you. Because my esteemed father would be pleased were I to take a wife. The fact that you need money . . . I expect there are others."

  The shock in Lauren's green eyes faded, only to be replaced by wariness and suspicion. Cat eyes, Jason thought, suddenly feeling uneasy.

  "But you don't even know me," Lauren said slowly. And before Jason could follow up with any other reasons, she added bitterly, "Besides, you left out the one argument I would have believed. The Carlin ships. Isn't that what you were promised for marrying me? What does Burroughs mean to pay you if you succeed?"