There was a long moment of silence, and then she admitted finally, her voice quivering faintly, “You were not.”
The pitiful sound of it did not escape him, and Christian’s sigh slashed through the darkness. “If ’tis your virtue you fear for,” he relented, “then you should leave off the worrying, mon amour. I’ve absolutely no wish to touch you at all,” he lied, his lip curling with self-contempt at the blatant falsehood. Even now, he stood ready. Yet, even despite that fact, he played the noble for her, ever the righteous gentleman. He cursed her fiercely beneath his breath, for making him want to be something he was not.
“Even so,” he interjected, “I swear that if you do not let me be, Jessie, I’ll assume you wish to divert me, and I might find that I do, indeed, desire a certain diversion, after all—if you take my meaning?”
He heard her sharp intake of breath, and the helpless whimper that escaped her, and he felt her pain, and despised himself for his weakness to her.
Neither of them spoke.
After a long moment, Christian grudgingly tossed her his pillow.
It landed with a soft whooshing sound atop her head. Jessie snatched it quickly, burying her face into it, soaking it with tears.
“Thank you!” she sobbed, swearing to herself that she loathed him still, and despising herself for the lie. After a time, his husky snores filled the cabin, and hours later, still unable to sleep, Jessie lay shifting uncomfortably in the darkness.
She stood finally, clutching Christian’s pillow to her breast, and approached the dark pit that was his bed. She stared at his moonlit features for a long moment, gathering her courage. God, he wore a scowl even in his sleep. He was a fiend—so why did she love him so? Why?
She was cold.
And she was desperately miserable.
And he had the bed.
Lord, but he was rude and ill bred not to have offered her the bed!
Mustering her courage once and for all, she lifted the coverlet carefully and slipped within, making certain to stay as far from him as possible.
The beast never stirred.
He was sound asleep, she acknowledged resentfully. And he had fallen so very easily. How, when her own body lay burning so fiercely, kindled merely by his presence? It was as though the very air were filled with him, making her yearn... She shouldn’t feel such a wanton longing for his kisses… and more. Only, when she tried not to recall that day beneath the elm tree... her body seemed to have a will all its own, demolishing her resolve.
“I never did betray you,” she whispered softly into the pillow beside him. She rocked herself consolingly, gently, so as not to wake him. How could he have believed she would?
Oh, God, how could he sleep?
He really didn’t want her.
He didn’t care. A tear slipped through her lashes.
The moon’s glow illuminated the stained glass with an uncanny light. Eve’s eyes seemed lucid, melancholy almost, and so very damning, for those eyes were the mirror to her own soul.
She was lost to him, and he didn’t trust her, and he didn’t love her... and he didn’t even seem to want her.
The tears she’d been fighting so long spilled from her eyes, coursed shamelessly down her cheeks.
“I did not betray you,’ she swore again, her whisper soft and full of pain. “It was you, Christian, who betrayed me!” She gazed longingly at the exquisitely depicted figure of Adam, his face unreadable, his eyes as blue and fathomless as the sea.
“I did not tell my brother—he knew already.” Though she knew he slept, she felt compelled to go on, “It was your brother, Philip, who told my father. Not I,” she swore softly. “Amos told me so later.” She continued to rock herself, eased by it, and she wept softly.
“But you...”
The single word was filled with overwhelming grief.
“You came to seduce me—and you let him—” She choked away a broken sob. “Oh, God! You let my brother pay you to wreck my heart and my life! How could you? Yes, you came to make me love you... and to tear my soul to tiny, wretched shreds—and God curse me, for I let you!”
She turned away from him to lie upon her side in a devastated heap, unable even to accept his presence next to her upon the bed, for she wanted nothing more than to turn in to his arms and be comforted by him.
She was weak... oh, so weak.
“But it is my fault... I let you hurt me,” she whispered brokenly. And then her sobs came full force and she muffled them with the feather pillow that bore his musky male scent, allowing her anger to become a balm for her pain.
As though he’d heard her somewhere deep in his slumber and meant to comfort her, Christian’s weight shifted. His arm reached out and wrapped about her waist.
Jessie stiffened, thinking she’d inadvertently awakened him, but he made some sleepy sound before snuggling closer to her. His breath was as smooth and even as before, and she knew then that he slept on, that he’d never awakened at all. In his dreams, he probably thought her some tavern wench warming his bed!
Still, in the darkness, just this once... Jessie dared to be comforted by his embrace—no matter whether he mistook her for another.
Just this once, she swore to herself.
No one need know.
Tomorrow she would be fine.
She would make certain of that, for never could she reveal to him just how much he’d hurt her with his lies and his deceit.
Nor could she bear that he know how very much she loved him...
Still.
The sun broke, transforming Adam and Eve’s world into a brilliant picturesque display.
As she stretched sleepily, Jessie’s gaze followed the path of the morning sunbeam to where it performed a kaleidoscopic parade upon the wood floor.
With a start, she remembered just where it was she’d fallen asleep—more important, with whom—and whirled about to stare at the empty space beside her.
He was gone.
She moved onto his side of the bed, closing her eyes against the cool sheets, savoring the lingering scent of him.
She had dreamt of him... his warmth, his hand upon her breast... drawing down the neckline of her gown. His kiss burning her flesh, trailing down, down... leaving a fire burning in its wake...
She burned still.
She opened her eyes in self-disgust. Good Lord, but she should be ashamed for thinking such wanton thoughts. Hating herself for them, she arose and dressed for the day, pulling out the first thing her fingers encountered from her trunk. Her brow furrowing with resolve, she determined to do as he had bade her.
God curse him, she fully intended to stay out of his way.
Chapter 21
It took very little effort on her part, for it became apparent that Christian had no care to see her, at all.
Truth to tell, it was amazing how vast the ship suddenly seemed, despite that she shared his cabin each night. He came only when he was certain she slept... and then, on the third night, he didn’t come at all. She learned from Ben the next morning that Hawk had begun to share their cabin.
“He’s in a foul temper,” Ben told her as she came upon him. He sat, whittling the crude piece of oak Jessie had found him clutching that first morn. It was beginning, despite Ben’s amateur strokes, to take on the shape of a walking cane.
“Who?” she asked much too innocently.
Taking a moment’s pause from his sculpting, Ben peered down at her, his brown eyes troubled. “You know very well to whom I am referring.” He nodded in Christian’s direction, nonetheless.
Jessie didn’t bother to turn. She knew he was there. She needn’t look to know he was watching them.
“Tell me,” she said, changing the topic, “how is your leg? Does it pain you still?”
“Here and there,” he confessed somewhat reluctantly. His features softened as he gazed down at her. “’Tis healing, though, and I’d not have you worrying over it, sweet coz.”
Jessie averted her gaze, unable to bea
r seeing his pain.
He wore one pant leg split up the side so that she wouldn’t be exposed to his nudity while attending him, for despite her lack of medical knowledge, there was no one else to do so. Jean Paul, too, was healing well enough. And though he suffered a lingering fever, it had been mild enough that he’d not bothered to take himself back to bed. Only the paleness of his complexion gave any evidence to his illness, for the man was as out-of-hand as the rest of the crew, stubborn too, for he refused to be coddled or cared for. Ben, on the other hand, seemed content enough to accept what little aid Jessie could give.
“You need your bandages changed. I brought these.” Dropping the bundle of rags from her arms into Ben’s lap, she sank to her knees to better inspect his thigh. The bandages were free of body fluids for the first time—a good sign, she thought, though she truly couldn’t be certain. With a heartfelt sigh, she began to unravel the soiled wrappings.
“You shredded one of your gowns for these?”
Jessie peered up at him to see that he was toying with a bit of lace that still clung to a strip of it, obviously having been overlooked in her haste. He removed it carefully, mindful not to tear it in the process, while Jessie busied herself with his leg. “It was old,” she assured him. “It was nothing.”
Freeing it at last, he held it between his fingers, stroking it meditatively. “I’ve never seen the likes o’ this mood of his, Jessie, and I’ve known the man an eternity.”
Jessie tugged off a section of his bandage much too quickly and cast him an irate glare.
“Ayeee! Gad, Jess, be easy with me!” Resisting the urge to shield his wound from further aggression, he gritted his teeth, allowing her to continue. But he said through clenched teeth, “Tell me, coz, what is it you said to him to turn his mood so foul?”
“And what makes you think ’tis me?” Jessie peered up at him with narrowed eyes.
Ben shrugged.
“Nothing he didn’t deserve,” she assured. “And you! You haven’t been alive an eternity!”
But he had! Jessie thought, glancing briefly toward the ship’s wheel, for he was the devil’s own!
“Not an eternity, perhaps, but long enough to know...”
With Ben’s bandages finally unraveled, Jessie glanced up into her cousin’s handsome face. He smiled down at her, though it was a cheerless smile, and it made her heart ache terribly.
Catching her hand at his knee, he stroked the back of it with his thumb. Jessie could merely stare as he caressed her, feeling uncomfortable with it, yet not quite able to withdraw her hand.
Her expression anguished, she lifted her face to his, and their gazes held.
“Sweet Jess,” Ben murmured. “How I could love you... if only...” She flushed, averting her gaze, and he said, “How depraved I must sound to you, wanting you as I do—but I cannot help it! I’ve tried,” he swore, “and I just cannot stop!”
“Ben...”
“Hush,” he demanded. “Listen to me, sweet coz. I do know you can never be mine…” He placed her hand to his heart. “I can only hope that someday... someday,” he repeated solemnly, “though I doubt it very much, I shall find another as kind and beautiful as you. Until then, know my heart belongs to you, and only to you.”
Jessie shook her head, her heart twisting at his disclosure. “Ben... please...”
He placed his fingers to her lips, shushing her. “Listen to me, please, because I must say this. I swear I’ll not speak of it again, not to anyone. Know I love you, Jess, and know I’ll always be there for you, no matter the circumstances. I pledge that to you here and now.” He groaned suddenly, the sound tormented. “God’s teeth! I feel such a fierce loyalty to Hawk, for he once saved my arse from the gibbet. You see... I risked my father’s ship on a venture—a worthy venture, though it matters not a whit now, for the outcome remains the same.” He shook his head regretfully. “Hawk came to my rescue. He didn’t have to, but he did.” He shrugged. “Had he not, well then... my father would have lost his ship in the Indies, and I...” He chuckled without mirth. “I daresay, I would be as lifeless as this wooden cane in my hand.”
Placing the staff he spoke of down upon the deck, he reached out, taking her by the arms, drawing her closer, yet gently, as though to gain her full attention.
“Even so... hear me well... if Hawk so much as touches you in the wrong manner... he’ll answer to me. And yet... I know in my heart you’ll not need me, because Hawk is a good man. I know only too well that he is... and so... you truthfully have no need of me at all.”
An anguished look crossed his features. And then, as though he could not help himself, he brought her closer still, his lips not far from her own as he spoke to her.
“Dear God... Jessie...” He groaned. “I might ask only one thing of you... I dream of you so oft, sweet coz—too oft! I would have you put an end to these dreams. I cannot ... Perhaps if you would kiss me, just once ... your soft, sweet lips to my own... just once. I shall not ask it of you again—I swear it on my honor!”
“Ben!” she choked out, panicking, and tried to withdraw from his embrace. He held her fast and came nearer still, urging her with his compelling gaze to assent.
“Please, Jess...” He sounded as tortured as a man could possibly sound.
Jessie’s eyes closed and she swallowed convulsively, knowing in her heart that she could not deny him this once. She nodded, and heard his moan of relief as he pulled her exuberantly into his embrace, touching his lips tenderly to hers at first, tentatively, as though he were afraid she would bolt. His kiss was achingly sweet... and she should have felt something... anything, for he was nearly as masterful with his lips as Christian, yet she could feel nothing. She was numb. Her heart was dull and heavy for she was cursed to love another.
After a long-suffering moment, he tore himself away. “Christ,” he concluded, scowling fiercely. “I believe that might have been a first-rate mistake.” He winked at her halfheartedly. “Tell me, Jess, can you never...” He paused then, seeming to rethink his words, and said instead, shaking his head, “Never mind. You love him and there is nothing to be done for that. You cannot give full measure... and I can take no less... Only know that I shall always—”
“How very moving.”
Jessie whirled about to spy Christian looking down upon them from the upper deck, his expression dark and stormy, his stance threatening, and his dark hair whipping with the breeze. His blue eyes shot her with contempt.
“It is not what it appears, Hawk,” Ben swore at once, his tone repentant, if only slightly irritated. “She was...” His gaze reverted to Jessie, but he could not bank the look of intense yearning that was there for her to see, then suddenly he did, and he looked again at Christian, slightly more composed. “I stole a kiss from her,” he yielded, “and she had not the heart to refuse me.”
“How very charitable of her.” Christian cast her a ferocious glare before turning and stalking away.
“I’m sorry.”
Jessie shook her head. “It matters not... He couldn’t possibly loathe me more than he does already.”
Christian felt rage like never before, though he’d be damned if he’d fault Ben for it. It was Jessie he blamed.
Curse her faithless hide!
He’d listened with bated breath to her soul-stirring confession a few nights past and had felt her pain.
The biggest part of him had been elated at the possibility of her innocence; still, he’d not been quite able to bring himself to believe her. For all he knew, she’d performed the dramatics for his benefit alone, knowing he was awake and listening. And yet, though he’d not dared believe in her, the need to hold her had been irrepressible, and he’d reached out to comfort her even against his will.
How could he have thought to believe her?
For the last days, and nights, while he’d lain next to her, he’d respectfully let her be, while he’d grappled with his heart and his conscience, coming so close to trusting in her...
S
o close.
He’d not gone to her last night because he hadn’t trusted himself.
And now...
Had he been even remotely near them, he might have torn Ben limb from limb. God’s truth, he felt like doing so even now. With a curt nod, he urged his first mate away from the wheel, taking charge of it himself, his expression furious. Black-haired, bushy-browed Tibbs gave up his post immediately, eyeing him warily as he scurried away.
Damn. He didn’t want to believe her, not now—particularly not now. But her pitiful wails had resounded with truth, tearing his own heart into tortured shreds. But she was lost to him, for it was apparent she loved another... that she despised him as much as she claimed.
He recalled Ben’s blissful expression as his lips had touched upon Jessie’s, and his chest constricted painfully. Christ, he had come to such foolish conclusions all those months ago in England, and now he would pay for it. He couldn’t stand the thought of her with Ben. Couldn’t bear the thought of Ben’s hands upon her, his lips worshiping her body. He closed his eyes for an instant, feeling dizzy with anger and regret. He’d never loathed himself more than he did at the moment, for he’d had her once, and he’d lost her.
How could he have been so witless?
How could she be so faithless?
So fickle?
She was a treacherous bitch—even if she had not been the one to betray his confidences. She’d played him false with her inconsistent emotions—damned lady turncoat!
But she was never yours to love in the first place, he reminded himself bitterly.
She was never yours to begin with...
Nor could she ever love the man who had caused the death of her father...
And he was that man.
The remainder of the journey passed uneventfully.
It took just over two weeks to reach their destination, a small, picturesque island as bright and vibrant as the lush background of stained glass with which it competed. Jessie remained within the cabin the entire day they were docked.
Three Redeemable Rogues Page 43
