“Ye know that I did. Ye’re the rake, remember? Seduction is yer game.”
It was. And right now he wanted to seduce her. Badly. But that wasn’t his intent. His hope was that she could help him forget what came after the seduction. After the passion had been satiated. “Right. Then yes. Men like all those things.”
She quieted then, looking off to the horizon. “Gavin and I were childhood friends. My father was a laird of the bordering property and our families decided to match us. I knew I would marry Gavin from the age of fifteen. I never even tried to learn the art of…” A blush rose in her cheeks.
He stopped, then led her to the rail. At least with their backs to the crew, they were in plain sight but they could talk. “Perhaps you’re lucky. You’ve kept all the soft parts of a woman who was never tossed aside.”
She frowned as she watched some gulls dance in the breeze. “I’ve never really had a chance to fly either. I’ve always just been perched on the edge.”
That was true. “I, for one, appreciate your kind heart.”
She shifted toward him. “So, what will ye teach me when we’re alone tonight?”
Alone. Tonight. Those words echoed in his head as he thought again that teaching her how to seduce her fiancé had likely been a terrible error in judgment.
Chapter Seven
Fiona stood perched in the center of their cabin, her ear trained toward the bed. Of course, tonight was the night that Aunt Edna had decided to quit snoring.
She dare not open the door without confirming her aunt slept soundly. Taking a halting step, the floor creaked under her feet and she froze again, holding her breath.
A rattling snore finally erupted from her aunt’s lips, and breathing out a heavy sigh, Fiona began creeping toward the door.
She knew this was a terrible idea. Clandestine meetings with a rake were risky at best. But then again, she’d never done… anything. She’d been so young when she’d agreed to marry Gavin and with Callum… Fiona had never even been kissed.
If she were honest with herself, she didn’t give a wit about the lessons. She’d likely never use them on Callum. The man had all but abandoned her and she’d be damned if she spent her time trying to coerce him into caring. But if she was about to settle down with a husband that would be distant at best, she might as well have a bit of fun before she did. Perhaps then she could go into the match with less resentment.
The door swung in with barely a noise and she tiptoed out, closing the heavy wooden panel once again. She didn’t dare bring a candle to light her way, but the moon shone brightly enough and the sound of the ocean covered any noise she made.
She crept along the walls of the cabin, making her way to the backside. The moment she turned the corner, she saw Tom. Though he was hidden in shadow, the tip of his cigar gave him away. “Ye came.”
He turned toward her. “So did you.”
The sound of his voice pulled her forward and she kept moving along the wall until she reached his side. “How is this going to work?”
“However we’d like it to.” He wrapped an arm about her waist. “We had some excellent lessons this morning on how you touch a man publicly without being too obvious. But we can certainly do more.”
She shook her head, the feel of his hand at her waist, sending shivers of excitement racing down her spine. “We’ll save those for another time.” She lifted her hand toward his chest but then dropped it again, unsure of how to touch him. “They’re better when we have an audience to practice with.”
“True.” Tom shifted closer, his heat filling her with a nameless excitement. “What is it you wish to know?”
She drew in a deep breath, filling her lungs and then holding the air in, organizing her thoughts. “I don’t think a brush on the back is enough to get a man to the altar,” she finally said, bringing her hands to his chest. “I need to know what to do after, when we’re alone, to ensure success.”
He looked down at her. “You do what you’ve always done when you’re alone with a man. You let him hold you close, exactly like this and then you allow him to—”
“But ye don’t understand,” she whispered close to his ear. “I’ve never done any of this before. Ye’re the first.”
He stilled under her hands and she clenched her fingers in his shirt. “The first? Man you’ve been alone with? Surely your first fiancé?”
She shook her head. She was inviting disaster here, but she wasn’t certain she cared. Tired of playing by everyone else’s rules, she wanted a little fun for herself. “I’ve never even been kissed.” She leaned toward him, their bodies coming together. “How can I seduce him into marriage if I don’t even ken how to kiss?”
He didn’t utter a word as he stared down at her. She shifted, worried she’d pushed too far, too quickly. Licking her lips, she took a half step back, but his hand tightened at her waist.
“Never been kissed?” he asked hoarsely.
“Not even once,” she said, her voice wavering.
* * *
Tom growled, deep in his throat. His first thought was the woman unwittingly played with fire. A man could so easily take advantage of this situation.
How did she know he wasn’t the sort to really hurt her?
But he wasn’t and whether she sensed it or was just lucky, he’d give her exactly what she asked for. No more and no less.
Partially because Tom wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to do anything else in the world, but also because she was right. If he were really going to help her, she’d need this lesson.
Still, the thought of her kissing another man made his insides clench in possessive need, but he pushed that aside. Her touch now would be good for both of them and that was all that mattered.
Slowly, he lowered his mouth, brushing his lips on her forehead, then her temple. Her breath quickened as he skimmed his lips across the tip of her nose, her high cheekbone and then down in the hollow of her cheek. By the time he reached the corner of her lip, she was trembling in his arms. Damn, it was glorious.
Slowly, he placed his lips on hers, brushing her mouth closed. He could feel her hesitation, but he repeated the light touch several times as she began to respond, returning the tender kiss. And then he tilted his head to more fully take her lips with his. She slid her hands about his neck, pressing closer to him.
And then he slanted her mouth open, brushing his tongue along her bottom lip. She moaned into his and the sound nearly undid his control. He jerked back, needing to regain some of his composure, but that was a mistake too. Looking down at her, bathed in moonlight, he could see the flush on her cheeks, the passion sparkling in her eyes, the fullness of her dewy lips, fresh from their kiss.
She tightened her fingers on his neck. “I don’t want ye to stop.”
With a groan, he bent his head again, capturing her mouth with his own. She’d become pliant in his arms, her softness molded to his body. He wanted more from her. The press of her flesh without the clothing between them, the ability to kiss every inch of her skin.
Tom tried to rein in his thoughts. This was only a kiss. She belonged to another man. He lifted his head again. “Fiona, we have to stop. You shouldn’t engage in such behavior with a man such as myself.”
She didn’t kiss him again, but she didn’t pull away either. “Ye won’t hurt me.”
“Your confidence is lovely but you shouldn’t.”
She gave a light laugh. “I am confident in ye, but also yer my cousin’s friend and we’re trapped on a ship. If ye compromised me, Colin would see that ye made an honest woman of me.”
He stopped then, giving her a sidelong glance, his stomach clenching. “That is a good point. Except for being tied to a man who isn’t the marrying kind.”
She shrugged. “I’m already tied to a man who isn’t the marrying kind.”
Also true. “He’s an earl, at least. You’ll be well cared for.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Colin said yer very successful. Wouldn’t ye
be able to care for a wife?”
He shrugged, finally tearing his gaze from hers. “Not like an earl.”
“Did ye build yer business yerself?” she asked, sliding her fingers into his hair, then gently massaged his scalp.
Closing his eyes, he leaned into the touch. This was what he’d been craving. “I did,” he mumbled, her fingers working deeper into his hair. This was perfection.
“So ye’ve grown a successful business that now supplies the crown with wool? I don’t ken about other women, but I can’t imagine wanting anymore from a husband than that.”
He appreciated the words. She was fulfilling her end of the bargain in saying them. “You’re doing an admirable job of soothing my ego but that can’t be true.”
She stopped her massage. “It is true.” Then she raised up on tiptoe and kissed him again. Long and slow and so soft, he ached. She was learning already. “I don’t care a wit about being a countess. Give me a good man with a nice life and kisses that make me toes curl.”
His entire body tightened. She was playing him. That was the only explanation because one kiss and he was tempted to declare himself the very man for the job. He’d never ever considered proposing before. He wrenched his mouth from hers, his breath ragged. “I think I can declare your lessons done,” he rasped. “Lord Exmouth doesn’t stand a chance.”
Chapter Eight
Fiona drew her brows together, trying to clear the confusion. Hadn’t her entire point been that she didn’t give a wit about lords? “Are we still talking about him? I want to talk about ye.”
Tom pulled back a bit, looking down, his eyes much harder than they’d been moments before. “You didn’t want lessons at all. You wanted a new fiancé.”
Her mouth dropped open as she stared. Was it true? She supposed it was. Silly fool of a girl trying to tame yet another rake. “I wanted to fulfill my end of the bargain. Remember that?” She stepped back too. “And if I were honest, I wanted to kiss ye. I’m going to marry him.” When had she decided that? “It’s the best fer my family. But I wanted one kiss before I did.”
Rather than pacify him, Tom seemed to grow angrier, his lip curling. “One kiss with the lowly merchant before you went off to give yourself to his lordship?”
Now that wasn’t going to stand and she grabbed his shirt front with both hands, pulling him closer. “One kiss with a man I actually wanted before I do my duty to my family,” she fired back, giving him a small push away. Then she turned. “But I’m sorry I did. I should have—”
His hand was at her waist and in a breath, he’d spun her and pulled her close. “Why are you going to England now?”
For a moment, she pushed against his chest but then Fiona relaxed into him. “Callum’s aunt died this past winter. I tried to write to him but how do ye say that to a man ye never even met. It’s so personal. And so, at first, I thought I’d deliver the news in person but then—” She drew in a deep breath. “The more I considered it, the more I realized that it was time I did something for me. This trip wasn’t going to just be for him.”
Tom buried his face in her neck. “I’m sorry about what I just said. It’s just those wounds we discussed last night. They run deep and—”
She understood. They both came with scars. “I’m sorry too. I wanted to have one kiss with a man that I thought actually wanted me. I’m tired of just being his duty. The obligation he’s been avoiding.”
He nuzzled her neck. “He’s a fool if he doesn’t see you’re so much more than that.”
She tightened her grip around his neck. “Enough about me. This is supposed to be about ye too. Why don’t ye tell me what happened with this woman?”
He inhaled another bracing breath. “The what isn’t important. I just need to be around a woman who doesn’t think I’m less for being just a merchant.”
Fiona grimaced as she slid her hands down his back. “Ye’re more. How can ye not see that? Exmouth avoids his duty, too busy gambling and carousing to be a man of true worth.”
He stilled. “You know about the gambling?”
Inwardly, she sighed. “Everyone kens.” Then she loosened her arms to lean back again. “How can that be a man who is superior to ye?”
He caressed her cheeks, cupping her face in his large palms. Then he leaned down and kissed her again. This time, the touch was light and so sweet it made her ache inside. “Thank you for saying that.”
“Ye’re welcome,” she answered wanting more from him. Wanting to lose herself in another kiss.
“I think it’s time for us to adjourn this meeting.” He took a slow step back.
She hugged herself, hating to watch him leave.
Even his choice of words made bile rise in her mouth. “If ye think it best.”
“I do.” He gestured for her to start walking. “Any more time alone and our lives will end up on a very different path.”
Fiona remained silent, but in her heart, she wondered if that was such a bad thing. Closing her eyes, she reminded herself Tom wasn’t the kind of man who wanted to marry. Which was worse, a reluctant husband she hated or a reluctant husband she adored? She honestly didn’t know the answer.
* * *
Tom clenched his teeth as Fiona’s hand slipped from his and she disappeared back into her cabin.
His plan had been a terrible one. Well, it hadn’t been entirely awful. Somehow, Fiona had known the exact words to mend his aching heart. But her kisses had wreaked havoc on his senses and upturned his whole plan for the future.
Ridiculous. She was already engaged to be married. And he didn’t want a wife. This was his time to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
He started down the ship ladder. Did he even still want a life free of emotional entanglements? A parade of meaningless women who carelessly threw barbs at him that had the potential to hurt him deeply? Or spend his life wrapped in the embrace of a woman who soothed him, built him up all the while lighting his body ablaze with her passion?
He stopped halfway down the ladder. He was actually considering this. Tom Mayweather was contemplating marriage.
His father had died when he was young and his mother had told him often that marriage had ruined her life. She’d taken in sewing just to keep food on the table, because she had no husband and a child to support.
It was how he’d learned fabric to begin with. Before now, he’d never realized what a profound affect his mother’s feelings had had on him. Coupled with his own experiences, he’d been dead set against settling down.
But now…Fiona was right. He had the means to keep her well cared for no matter what happened. And in some ways, never having married, he lived a life as lonely as his mother’s had been as a widow. Lonelier, in fact, because he didn’t even have a child to share it with.
Hell’s bells, now he was considering children too. He leaned against the wall, needing some measure of support. “A midnight walk?” Colin asked from somewhere in the shadows, the sound of his voice jarring Tom out of his thoughts.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he answered, pushing off the wall.
“Fancied a drink?” Colin moved toward him, stepping into the moonlight.
He waved, dismissing the words. “I’m leaning on the wall, not because I am drunk, but because I’ve realized I’ve been plagued by feelings.”
“Feelings?” Colin asked, stopping in the center of the hall. “What sort of feelings?”
Tom lowered his head. “Don’t be angry with me but I might possibly be in love with Fiona.”
Colin snorted, which made Tom’s head snap up. What was Colin thinking? But he found out soon enough.
“Well that would be a relief,” Colin said. “Provided, of course, yer intentions are honorable.”
“Relief?” Tom scrubbed his hands through his hair. “I thought you’d be angry.” He dropped his hands. “And I am surprised to say that yes, my intentions are honorable.”
“Good.” Colin came over and slapped him on the shoulder. “If ye take a moonlight walk and
kiss my cousin again, I will throw ye over the side of the boat.”
Tom stopped. “How did you…”
“I ken everything that happens on my ship.” He crossed his arms. “In terms of her engagement to Exmouth, the entire thing is a farce and I’m sure they’ll both be relieved to see it dissolved. Fiona marrying someone else ensures she suffers no scandal.”
Tom pushed off the wall. “Did you know this would happen? That I’d fall in love with her? ”
Colin cut his hand through the air as if to swipe away Tom’s words. “Of course not.” Then he stopped. “Though I did ken Fiona was just yer type.”
Tom shook his head. He’d been played, though he couldn’t bring himself to care. Then he stopped. How would Fiona feel about this plan?
She’d assured him she’d be happy as a merchant’s wife but was she really, truly ready to give up on being a countess?
Chapter Nine
Fiona woke feeling far more rested. Her second night in a hammock had gone better than the first. She’d drifted off dreaming about being held in Tom’s strong arms.
Aunt Edna was already awake and sitting with a book in hand. “Ye slept late,” Edna said as she glanced up from the pages. “Getting ready to meet yer groom?”
“Something like that,” Fiona replied, stretching. “How late is it?”
“Well, the breakfast tray should arrive any minute. I believe it’s half past nine though ye’d never ken it with all the clouds. Miserable day today.”
Fiona frowned as she glanced out the rain-soaked window. There would be no walk on the deck today. Rising from the hammock, she began to brush out her hair before she dressed. Brushing gave her hands something to do as she contemplated how she might see Tom if she were confined to this cabin.
After she dressed, when the tray arrived a quarter hour later, she was no closer to a solution.
A Lass to Love: Brides of Scotland Page 4
