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younger brother thinks he is the earl, and we will have to unravel

all that mess.”

“You imagine correct.” Murray said, a small smile touching his

mouth. “If you’ll forgive me, Lord Charbeau, but I don’t move in

society circles, far from it, yet I know your reputation is that

somewhat of a rake. Hayward went back to England after his

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daughter’s disappearance, and he is still there as far as I know. In

my opinion, he will be grateful to get his daughter back, but not

happy over her scandalous condition in the least. I have two

daughters myself, and I can tell you that I would—perhaps

unrealistically, I admit—expect a gentleman to act a gentleman.”

“We all tried,” Jonathan nodded gravely, “but quite frankly,

with the likelihood of ever being found remote, it did not take long

for us revert to our baser instincts. Captain, you saw Jenna today

on the beach. She was raised a lady, well-educated, chaperoned at

all times, yet she stood in front of you and your men practically

naked and didn’t blink an eye. When one is struggling to stay alive

each day, the restrictions of our rules and regulations seem

ridiculous. I would have given an arm to have my cravat, but not

so I could tie it properly and look the dandy, but in case we needed

cloth for bandages. It puts things in perspective.”

“I’ve been in battle too many times to disagree with you, my

lord. However, the General may not be as understanding. He is a

formidable man.”

“Then I am forewarned.”

As their food was served, the topic switched to the events of

the world in the past few months, Jonathan asking questions which

the captain answered as they ate and drank a fine bottle of claret.

Mindful of Jenna waiting for him back in the cabin the captain had

generously given up, he didn’t linger but bid their savior a polite

good night. The young soldier on duty at the door gave him a

rather cheeky smile as he stepped aside, and Jonathan lifted his

brows, wondering how many conversations on board the ship right

now centered around General Hayward’s beautiful daughter.

Most at a guess, he thought in amusement. And he was

probably considered one lucky bastard.

Closing the door behind him, Jonathan saw the lantern was not

lit, though there was moonlight coming in the small window. To

his surprise Jenna was still awake, standing and staring out over

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the glimmering waves, a slender shadowed form. Turning, she

gave him a small smile and asked, “How was your dinner?”

“Excellent. And yours?”

“Roast beef. I actually had a potato and felt it a miracle.” She

laughed, but it sounded strained.

They were so in tune, Jonathan felt he could read the nuances

in her lovely eyes. He said gently, “Jenna, this ship will not sink.

That happens rarely actually. Relax.”

“Every time I lay down to go to sleep, I remember waking to

that awful sound. This cabin is so similar, I suppose that is the

problem.” Her slender shoulders shuddered slightly as she took a

deep breath, “It’s foolish, I know.”

“Perhaps you need a distraction.” Jonathan gave her a wolfish

smile, his fingers going to the buttons on his shirt. “Tell me, are

you still feeling…womanly and deprived?”

The uncertainty left her gaze, replaced instantly by a flare of

excitement. “Yes.”

“I suggest you take off that garment then.”

It was so large on her she had only to unfasten a button or two

and it slid to the floor, leaving her in the gleaming moonlight. She

shook back the long veil of her hair and watched him undress.

“You get hard so fast, my lord,” she murmured with teasing

sultriness. “In fact, you look as if you might feel deprived

yourself.”

The truth was, he was ravenous. “Bring those beautiful breasts

over here,” he ordered softly. “They look as if they need my hands

and mouth.”

Her small feet silent on the rug, Jenna walked toward him, the

sway of her hips matched in the movement of the full golden

globes that were so high and firm. They were larger, and very

erect, her areola glistening like ripe fruit, the nipples already

peaked and hard. Jonathan cupped them both in his hands and

kissed each one lightly, before lowering her to the rug. “The bunk

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will suit us fine for sleeping,” he explained, running his hands over

the mounded flesh of her breasts, teasing a pink nipple with his

tongue. “But for energetic lovemaking, we need more room.”

She threaded her hands into his hair as he nuzzled and suckled,

moaning within moments, her knees falling apart in unmistakable

carnal invitation. It was true, he was hard and rigidly erect, but

instead of moving to mount her, he slid his mouth down the curve

of her belly, kissing the growing swell there, noting that she

seemed more fertile and soft than ever. The evidence of her

pregnancy would not be something she could conceal much longer.

Pushing her legs farther apart, he settled between them with his

mouth inches from her sex, smelling the earthy scent of her

arousal. Stroking the pink lips of her labia, he whispered, “You are

already wet, my love. So wet, and incredibly soft, and female.”

Inhaling the heady fragrance, he deftly, he parted those damp

folds, his mouth grazing the satiny tissue underneath. “So sweet, I

can taste your nectar, Jenna. It is the most erotic thing on earth.”

Her slim thighs trembled as he pressed his mouth to her cleft

and began to consume her. Licking up and down, he explored the

space from the tiny nub that swelled and wept, to the small

entrance to the passage that gave him so much pleasure. Using his

tongue, he invaded her body until she arched, breathless and

gasping, her hands tangling in his hair. He varied his technique

until she was wild for release, twisting and moaning, her legs open

as wide as possible. When he knew she was on the edge of

desperation, he found her swollen nub and abraded it with his

tongue, sucking gently to prolong her orgasm as she shuddered in

surrender, her breasts heaving in the dim light, her body finally

going limp on the tangled silk of her long hair, her eyes closed.

Jonathan took his pleasure then, more careful with her than in

past sexual encounters, using her passage more slowly, not

thrusting as deep and hard. Sex was different now, he thought, his

cock sliding inside her in an almost temperate rhythm. Looking

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into her lovely flushed face, he realized that if he never made love

to another woman besides Jenna the rest of his life, he would be

the happiest man on earth. When she climaxed a second time, her

teeth lightly biting his shoulder as she came, he let himself go,

holding her close as he pulsed and flexed in the ultimate physical

joy, prolonging the sensation by focusing on the warm weight of

her breasts against his chest and soft fragrance drifting from her

damp skin.

I love her
, he thought, and it was amazing, but it didn’t scare

the hell out of him. Instead he rejoiced in the idea of a wife and a

child.

They lay there, intertwined, until their breathing slowed and he

wondered exactly how to utter the words. His experience with

women might be vast, but it did not include flowery declarations of

tender emotion.

Finally, cradling her in his arms, he said, “Jenna, I—-I love

you.”

To his surprise, she said nothing and he realized she was sound

asleep, her long lashes on cheeks rosy from his lovemaking, her

body lax and pliant. With a rueful smile, he eased out from

between her legs and lifted her in his arms, laying her carefully on

the bunk and sliding in beside her. She slept trustingly against him,

like a beautiful child, and he touched her reverently as they lay

there so close. Stroking her hair, her arm, the perfect curve of her

hip, he wondered how she would feel about a marriage proposal.

To a certain extent, it felt wrong to ask simply because of her

condition. He had never wooed her, not as a woman should be

courted, instead he had pursued her on a very base level, with

sexual intercourse his goal, not a promise of permanence.

She had never, not once, told him she loved him either, he

realized. He was also going to have to deal with her father, who

was not going to be very kindly disposed toward him or any honest

offers when he realized his lovely young daughter had been

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seduced.

“Hell,” he muttered out loud

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Chapter 8

The quay was crowded but Jenna saw her father at once. Tall

and unmistakably authoritarian, he wore civilian clothing, his iron

gray hair gleaming in the thin drizzle of rain that fell from sooty

skies. A certain something akin to panic twisted in her stomach and

must have shown in her face, for next to her Charles murmured

reassuringly, “Don’t worry so. He loves you, and that will take

care of everything.”

“Even the huge scandal I am about to bring down upon his

head?” she asked, allowing him to escort her slowly down the

gangplank.

“None of it being your fault, my lady.” Charles winked with

roguish charm. Under his breath, he said, “Since you did not ask to

be shipwrecked with three men on a distant island, you cannot be

held accountable.”

“I believe,” she said wryly, “I am very much accountable for

the child growing inside of me. Whenever it was conceived, I was

mostly definitely not ravished against my will.”

“Your generous passion will be indelibly etched in my

memory,” Charles said impudently. “But alas, only that from now

on. His lordship has made it clear that he means to claim this

child.”

The child that seemed to grow each day. Once they had

reached the bustling port where Captain Murray found them the

English consul who helped them arrange for clothing and a passage

on the next passenger ship bound for the English coast, they had

been delayed a week, waiting for repairs to be made. The journey

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itself had been thankfully uneventful, and she had her own cabin

during that time. Jonathan had hired a young maid to accompany

her, mindful of the other passengers and possible further scandal.

She’d mostly kept to herself, knowing her pregnancy would cause

whispers. Jonathan had let her be, checking in politely to inquire

after her health, but not touching her.

He’d sent word ahead of their rescue on a cargo ship that was

able to depart earlier than their vessel, and apparently, that news

had been delivered for her father was there, waiting.

And in the time elapsed, she had gotten bigger, her condition

now noticeable, even through her clothing. Jenna would have

preferred to be able to break the news to her father after their

reunion, but he was bound to see it right away. At the moment, she

wore an enveloping cloak and hood against the rain, but once she

took it off, the game would be up.

“Where is Jonathan?” she asked in a low urgent tone.

“He will be joining us…here he is,” Charles said, sounding a

little relieved, letting go of her arm and moving away. Glancing

up, she saw that Jonathan was bareheaded, his dark hair already

beading with the misting rain, his grip polite and almost distant.

Charles said, “I’ll arrange for our baggage, my lord. Do you wish

me to go straight to the townhouse?”

“Yes. I’ll be along once I see Jenna safely to her father.”

Those cool words made her swallow, looking away to hide her

uncertainty. He wouldn’t shirk his responsibility; that she knew.

But what form that responsibility would take was the question. He

was nearly thirty, and with his title, good looks and wealth, he’d no

doubt had the pick of every lovely London beauty for over a

decade. But he liked to roam the globe and a wife and child would

hinder his carefree lifestyle. It was possible he meant to offer to

support her and the baby; that would be generous enough. Perhaps

he viewed her like his past lovers, as a mistress he could visit and

enjoy.

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Edging their way through the crowd, Jenna felt her stomach

flutter again. Unexpectedly tears sprang to her eyes and she saw he

father shoulder his way forward, finding herself suddenly caught in

a hard embrace, his familiar scent washing over her and making

her feel like a child again. “Papa.”

“My dearest Jenna,” her father said hoarsely, gazing down at

her, finally loosening his arms. “I thought I’d lost you. This is like

being given the precious gift of your birth again.” His normally

stern face working, he stepped back, glancing at the tall man by her

side, offering his hand. “Lord Charbeau, I received your message

as you can see. Never have I felt such complete and utter joy. I

understand you were also stranded after the ship sank. I want to