Forgotten Fragrance (16 page)

Charlotte sank down next to him and dropped her head into her hands. ‘I feel as though I am trapped in the middle of an endless nightmare.'

Her words tore at him. A nightmare of his making into which she had unwittingly become entwined. He slipped his arm across her shoulders.

‘I'm sorry, Lottie. Truly sorry. It is all my fault.'

She lurched upright. ‘You called me Lottie again. What do you remember?'

‘Bits and pieces. I remember this.' He ran his fingers across the soft smooth skin at the nape of her neck then slipped his index finger under the chain and eased the necklace from the valley of her beasts where it nestled.

She turned to face him, her eyes on his fingers as they traced the embossed pattern on the perfume bottle then as he ran his fingertip over the gold stopper. ‘I remember this.' He smiled down at her. ‘I know how I acquired it and when I gave it to you.'

Her lips tilted in a smile and his blood quickened. Gently he tugged on the chain and pulled her closer, pressing his lips to the pulse point on her long neck. Her responsive quiver sent tantalising sensations through his body. In one move he pulled her against him. She came willingly until their lips touched with the lightest of contact and her eyes fluttered shut.

A rush of longing more painful than the deepest of the wounds on his back winged through him as he pulled away, her look of disappointment a knife twist in his belly. Until he resolved the secrets of his past he couldn't endanger Charlotte any more than he already had.

At last Christian slept and although still white-faced he rested peacefully. Charlotte peered through the cabin window watching the poor convicts shuffle off the ship and along the wharf dragging their chains, their faces desolate and despondent as they faced an unknown future. The emotions she knew only too well…and she had been one of the lucky ones. These men would be set to work building wharves and hacking out roads, subject to the whim of some sadistic convict overseer. Placed in the same position she would rather run and take her chances.

Henk handed over the paperwork, the authorities not appearing to question his role. As if to validate her decision two of the convicts tried to break free but, hampered by their shackles, soon fell and were on the receiving end of a bullet. Disgusted by the brutality she turned from the scene in time to see Marcus returning to the ship. His demeanour changed as quickly as an offshore breeze. Gone was the violent, frenzied man who had flung himself into the cabin and accused her of all manner of misdeeds. Instead, the Marcus she knew from Hobart Town, the man of conviction, the businessman, strutted up the gangway with the tails of his black frock coat blowing in the wind and a look of satisfaction on his face.

Once Marcus stepped aboard the
Zephyrus
Henk wasted no time in getting underway. The rattle of the anchor chain echoed through the ship and within moments the schooner's bow cut through the calm waters of the bay, gathered speed and headed back into Bass Strait.

‘Since we are thrown in here together, now might be the time to tell me more about my past.'

Charlotte frowned at Christian, the underlying tension in his voice making her chest tighten. She stepped over to the bed and offered him some water. He shook his head. His tone confused her. Should she tell him all she knew or would she impede his recovery if he relived the past before he had a chance to recover his strength? ‘I'm not sure I should. Wouldn't it be better for you to remember yourself? I feel sure you will be more comfortable with your own memories.'

‘But if our memories are shared why can't you tell me about them?'

‘I'm not certain.' She shrugged. ‘I feel it is not the right thing.'

‘Very well.' His voice carried a hint of despair.

Unable to control her body's impulse she swayed towards him. His lips tilted upward into the heartbreaking impish smile of the boy she'd known and a twinkle of mischief danced in his fathomless eyes. All thoughts of the future flew from her mind.

‘I feel our connection too, Charlotte, but until I understand the secrets of the past we must curb this attraction.'

Embarrassed by her body's reaction Charlotte sat up straighter, pulled the chain over her head and offered it to Christian. He took it, wrapping it around his strong fingers.

‘So we know the story of the bottle.' He brought it to his nose and inhaled. ‘It carries your scent. I think I recognised it the moment you came aboard. I didn't know then what made you appear so familiar.'

Charlotte's heart clenched as she recalled the way he had appeared behind her as she stood at the deck rail when they sailed down the Derwent, almost like a guardian.

‘And what of this?' Christian ran the pad of his thumb over the small gold coin.

‘Do you know what it is?' She wanted to test him, wanted proof, tangible evidence her greatest wish had come true.

‘It's a coin, a very old, gold coin.' His shoulder grazed hers as he shrugged and turned the coin over in his hand. ‘It has a date but it is hard to read.'

‘Close your eyes, Christian, and try to remember. You know the date.'

He did as she bid, a look of total disbelief on his face, and then his nutmeg eyes flashed opened and he winked. ‘I can't remember the date.'

She sighed long and deep. Nothing was as simple as she hoped. Maybe it would be better to sit him down and tell him the entire story of their shared past. Somehow it seemed irresponsible, as though she were tampering with his mind.

‘But I do remember you.' Christian turned her face to him, his palm warm and rough against her cheek. ‘My angel,' he whispered, dropping a feather-light kiss on her lips. ‘We found the Angel coin on the banks of the Thames. I hung it around your neck as our talisman, a touch piece.' He closed his eyes as he rubbed the coin between his thumb and his forefinger. ‘On one side there is the Archangel Gabriel slaying the dragon and on the other a ship, a rose and the rising sun.'

Charlotte's heart turned to molten gold. Could he truly remember or was he simply reading the worn pattern with his fingers?

‘Legend says anyone who owns an Angel is promised love, money, and happiness.'

Charlotte's swallow echoed in her ears and her thudding heart threatened to leap right out of her chest.

‘And the date on it is 1642.'

‘You
do
remember!'

‘Secret's only a secret ‘tween two.' The timbre of his voice changed, a hint of the old Jamie, the London Jamie, a cockney accent creeping over the flat vowels he'd adopted. ‘Remember, Lottie, share it and it's common knowledge.'

He tested the weight of the coin in his palm then brought it to his lips and bit down on it. ‘It's an Angel.' He gazed deep into her eyes as if seeking confirmation. ‘I remember you, my angel. You have always been with me even when I didn't recall the past. You visited me in my dreams. Your face is the only thing I saw in the darkness when I fell overboard all those years ago and your image kept me alive as I scraped and scrambled under the hull of the
Zephyrus
.'

Charlotte's breath caught as she looked into his face. Not Jamie, not the boy she had known, but the man he was now. A man who made her heart sing and her body tremble with desire. The musky masculinity of him teased her senses and when he trailed a finger down her cheek every coherent thought fled from her mind.

‘I would willingly toss aside all these memories for one moment with you.' He laced his fingers through her hair and cupped her head, bringing her close. A whisper of warmth from his breath caressed her making her skin tingle as she leant in to meet him.

She swayed closer, raising her hands to his bare chest, unfurling a flurry of awareness as skin touched skin. His tongue traced the contours of her mouth and with a shuddering groan his hard hot lips took her mouth.

Just a moment's madness she would never regret. This was all she craved. Holding back nothing, she drank him in, all her longing and loneliness healed by his touch. Igniting a blaze that curled and flamed within the deepest recesses of her body, licking up through her stomach, heating her skin and sending her heart pounding. He kissed her as if he might consume her. The plunge of his tongue as he explored her mouth made her insides clench and her limbs tremble.

Sliding from the stool she knelt on the floor beside the bunk.

He lifted her palms and placed them on the taut, golden-skinned muscles of his chest. ‘Touch me. Touch me as you did before.'

Her cheeks heated to an uncomfortable burn. ‘As before?'

‘When you washed me.'

‘You were awake?'

‘Aware of your touch, loving your gentle hands as they roamed my body.'

A flush of shameful heat scored her body. He'd known. Known what she had done. Known what she had seen. He truly knew her deepest secrets. He had always known. Their minds intertwined and melded like two sides of a coin. The Angel coin. All she asked for, all she craved.

With infinite care she lowered herself next to him on the bunk, stretching until their torsos touched and she moulded her body to his length, glorying in the contoured strength of him. A delicious languor spread through her bones as her gaze travelled the length of him, her fingers trailing in its wake, thrilling at his response. The smooth, taut skin of his belly rippled at her touch and she pushed aside the thin cover over his hips, in awe of her power.

‘Charlotte,' he murmured, ‘come closer.'

His soft eyes melted her very bones as his hands reached out and bared her shoulders, then his fingers played across her skin sinking lower into the soft valley between her breasts. ‘You've kept me close to your heart.' Tight and heavy her breasts strained to his touch, his lips hovering a mere breath away from her nipple. A spasm of thrills coursed down her body making her shudder in places she rarely cared for — the pit of her belly, between her legs and her nipples, an exquisite sensitivity.

Her body became a quivering mass of need, yearning for his touch, and by the time his lips settled on her nipple, sucking, teasing, his tongue flicking backwards and forwards she almost screamed aloud. A soft whimpering sound erupted from her throat and he lifted his head replacing his lips with his warm hand, stroking and squeezing, rolling his thumb over its aching peak. She latched her fingers through his thick hair and pulled his head closer.

‘Charlotte, you are the most important thing in the world to me,' he said, his voice husky with emotion. ‘I want you to be happy above all else but you belong to Marcus.'

His words doused her pleasure and made her temper flare. ‘I belong to no one. I am assigned to Marcus. He is my prison. My gaoler.' A flash of fury more intense than the emotions he'd wrought only moments before claimed her. ‘He accused me of being a whore. He intends to send me to The Women's Factory once we reach Sydney.'

She hoisted her skirts high above her knees and straddled him.

A spasm of pain crossed his face then his hands grasped her and lifted, settling her higher. ‘Not like this, not the first time.'

She squirmed against him. Need and desire meshed with her anger, driving her every movement.

‘You deserve more.'

Oh yes. More.
She wanted more. She wanted to feel the hard length of him slide into her moist warmth. ‘I want you, inside me.' She would die of wanting and she would wait no longer.

‘I have nothing to offer you.' His gaze lost its gentleness, searing her with a burning intensity.

‘You have yourself and that is everything I want. It's our secret to treasure. Remember…'

‘A secret's only a secret ‘tween two,' he answered, pulling her down over him.

Her choked cry became a whimper as her body flooded with pleasure. Her blood pulsed and fire raced through her veins until their bodies, their skin, their souls entwined.

Christian's lopsided smile embraced her as his eyes twinkled, clear and cognisant. No trace of confusion. Heaven help her. She knew now what it was to love!

‘From the first moment I saw you again I knew…my soul knew I had found you.' His words were scarcely audible. ‘I wanted to kiss you then. The touch of your skin against mine when you reached out your hand.' He lifted her hand to his lips and rained gentle kisses into her palm, then interlaced his fingers with hers.

The knock on the door came as a surprise. She sprang up from the bunk and dragged her sleeves up to cover her breasts. Still her whole body burned; Christian's touch branding every inch of her skin yet a strange calm and rightness possessed her.

‘Capt'n…I mean…' Windy stood at the door shuffling his feet, his flushed face clashing horribly with his unruly mop of red hair. ‘Sir…Mr Wainwright wants her, Miss Charlotte I mean, up on deck quick smart.'

‘What for?' Christian leant back against the bulkhead, a grin quirking his lips.

Windy shrugged.

‘Windy, tell Mr Wainwright we are on our way.' He struggled to pull himself upright.

‘No. Not you, sir,' Windy said. ‘Just her.' He tossed his head at Charlotte.

She threw Christian a rueful smile. ‘It is all right. I must go. The crew will be on deck. No harm will come to me.' She lifted her shawl from the floor and draped it across her shoulders, pulling it tight, hoping she could hide the bloom of their love.

Far less certain than her words implied Charlotte followed Windy along the narrow walkway, glancing back at her cabin to check Marcus was not below decks. She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. The taste of Christian's lips warmed her as she stepped onto the deck. He had unleashed a torrent of emotion she'd never experienced before, far beyond friendship and mutual caring. His musky, salty scent clung to her body and the glow of heat in her cheeks made sweat prickle between her breasts despite the chill wind buffeting the ship.

Strands of hair whipped across her face and she wrestled them into a plait as she took in the scene. Marcus stood at the wheel conversing once again with Henk. They appeared to have developed some kind of mutual admiration society involving much laughter and backslapping, but through it all Marcus' eyes remained fixed on her. His threats had lost their power and a calm finality settled. Until they reached Sydney there was very little Marcus could do to.