The Captain of All Pleasures (25 page)

“We can never know that for sure,” she assured him, but she had a good idea he was right.

“I never realized how hard this must be for you.”

She wanted to deny it, but he said, “If it helps at all, I want you to know that I…care about you. So much that the win feels hollow.” He opened his mouth to say more, but fell silent and walked on.

When they entered his cabin, he strode over to her and wrapped her in his arms, pressing his hand to the back of her head, keeping her next to his heart. She couldn't stop herself from clasping him back.

He whispered into her hair, “I'm sorry.”

She cried against his chest, her tears wetting his shirt and her little hitching noises against his chest embarrassing her, until he made a vow to her with such intensity she believed it.

“No one will ever hurt you again.”

D
erek concluded that they couldn't continue the indefinite nature of their relationship. He needed to cement something between them, and broached the subject one night while they lay in bed relaxed and sated together.

“I want you,” he began confidently, “to be my mistress.” She started to speak, but he held up his hand. “Before you answer, let me tell you how I'd plan to—”

“No.”
She extricated herself from his cumbersome limbs and jumped up to get dressed. Derek watched her in grim silence as she pulled on her last boot and briskly brushed her hands. “I don't believe I want to be your mistress, Captain.”

He didn't know if he was more infuriated at her refusal or her flippant tone. She treated it as though he'd made an immature, half-cocked suggestion, when in fact he'd thought about little else since he'd realized she had nothing to do with the poisoning.

He'd never known a woman who made him so angry he wanted to put his fist through a wall! He didn't bother to hide his annoyance. “Of course not, you would want more—a title, perhaps? I'll warn you, if you angle for a marriage proposal, you're wasting your time. I won't give you more than an offer of
carte blanche.”

“Whoa,
my lord,”
she said, dripping contempt on his title. “I don't want more—I want less. I have no desire to make any commitment to you whatsoever!”

He stared at her with thinly veiled surprise—damn it, she meant that. Her heated refusal of any tie that might bind her to him rattled him to the core.

“From what I understand about upper-class men and their mistresses, in compensation for…intimacy, a man keeps his mistress in a house he provides and gives her jewels and silks.” She stood looking down at him, her eyes sparking. “Well, am I close?”

He agreed, impatient to hear what she would say next. One could never be sure with Nicole.

“Why on earth would I want to be kept in a house
on land,
stuck in the same place day after day for your convenience, all for some jewelry and finery I'd never wear?”

He'd only offered what had always worked in the past. Women liked to have things bought for them, to be cosseted. He'd had no reason to doubt that every female wanted fine things—expensive things—not only for her enjoyment but also for security.

Did Nicole even realize how abject her life would be once they returned to England? “In light of all that's happened in the last few months, who do you think will take care of you if I don't? Even if your father's been released, you'll have to get back to England to find him. How will you manage that?” He jumped out of bed and yanked on his clothes, his own temper threatening to boil over. “Your ship is on the bottom of the South Atlantic, and I stranded your crew at the Cape. You don't have a guinea to your name.”

Her face took on a scornful, even haughty look. “I have means to survive. I'm not brought so low that I have to—oh, how did you put it that night in London?—
bag an earl,
either by marriage or by becoming your mistress,” she snapped. “When you leave me here in Sydney, I'll be just fine.”

During the hours that she wouldn't talk to him, he eventually cooled and considered their relationship more objectively. His desire to find some means to bind her to him hadn't dimmed, but he wouldn't force the issue. For the next several days, Derek said nothing about the future.

Really, what right did he have to offer her a future with him when his own life was so miserably set?

 

At first uneasily, then wholeheartedly, they forgot about the argument. To make up for it, Derek escorted her to downtown Sydney's upscale district. He could watch her excited, radiant face for hours. She had no reason to affect a bored, world-weary mien like the women he'd been around for most of his life. He might have expected it, since she'd seen and experienced more of the world than the women, and many men, of his acquaintance. But she delighted in every little detail around her.

After an hour of casual strolling, they passed a jewelry store, and something in the window stopped him. Pulling her to join him at the thick glass, he saw a pair of sapphire pendant eardrops with a matching necklace showcased in the elegant display. What caught his attention was the depth of their dark color.

Wasn't the dark color indicative of the stones' rarity? More than that, they matched the color of Nicole's eyes.

“What do you think of the sapphires?”

“They're very beautiful,” she said, only half-looking at them, her attention focused on a peddler in the street. She tilted her head, wondering what he was selling.

To reclaim her wandering attention, he pressed a kiss in her hair. “Would you like—”

“Oh, Derek,” she interrupted, placing her hand on his arm, “look over there. That man's selling
strawberries
. Do you know how long it's been since I had some?”

He had only a second to note the name of the shop before she dragged him away.

So that he could spoil her with strawberries instead.

 

When Derek awoke just before dawn, Nicole was cuddled in his arms breathing softly. As usual, the merest touch of her skin against his set him off like a randy boy. But he needed her for more than just the release. True, his body craved hers, but he wanted that closeness that came afterward, when she let down her guard.

Though she slept, he slipped his hand down to stroke her, readying her, reveling in her quick response. She awoke with a quick inhalation of breath when he entered her, then sighed in pleasure as he pushed himself in, loving her.

He thought about their morning the rest of the day while he inspected offers for him to transport goods. He caught himself whistling as he signed the numerous contracts securing the flood of business the win had brought.

Grant would be floored when he learned of their success. The ship would be loaded in two days, and it looked to be a very promising run back.

But what to do about Nicole? He was running out of time. Sometimes she acted as if she would stay in Australia and wait for Chancey when Derek sailed, but those times were becoming fewer each day. He sensed he was wearing down her defenses.

He would talk to her tonight, he decided. But before he got a chance, they made love again. Then after dinner, she began reading the new book he'd bought her in town. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he'd tell her she was coming with him.

And if she refused? He would have to play his final card. It was unseemly, but each day he grew more attached to her. He would tell her that she could be pregnant. He hadn't been careful with her. He'd meant to; he had been careful all his life. But it felt impossible to pull away from her. It felt…wrong.

He didn't think it had even crossed her mind. In so many ways, she was inexperienced. She'd never had to count days, never fervently hoped for one outcome or another. He would teach her—harshly—but it had to be done. There was no way he could walk away from her.

Derek's musings were broken when he saw her scampering across the bed toward him, book in hand. She looked absorbed in thought, and he tensed while scrambling up against the headboard, certain that her knee would unswervingly connect with his groin.

Prepared for it, eyes closed and teeth gritted…he found only her breasts delicately pillowing across his lap. She lay perpendicular to him, the backs of her elbows touching his hip as she held the book open to read. He kept his eyes closed to better feel the luxury of her body.

He'd had her several times last night, twice this day, and still, at his age, he immediately turned stiff. When he strained against her breasts, her lips tugged up. Not in exasperation at his continual lust, not even in amusement. He knew because he ran his hand up her leg and under her gown to part her. He felt her breath catch when he touched her silky wetness. She smiled because she was ready.

And she wanted him, too.

 

Nicole looked down at the man next to her. In sleep, his face had at last begun to mirror the increased relaxation she'd sensed in his whole demeanor. She thought he'd grown more contented in the last few weeks. As had she. So happy, in fact, that she didn't believe she could deny Derek if he asked her again to be his mistress.

Should she accept, she would break her word to her grandmother, and the news would devastate her father. She understood this. So why did her heart tell her it was right to be with this man for as long as she could?

What would her mother do? She had always told Nicole to follow her dreams and let nothing stand in her way. Hadn't Laurel given up everything to be with the man she loved? Hadn't she lost her own mother over it? Her father would never disown her, but he would wonder why she hadn't demanded marriage. Nicole wondered herself.

She felt trapped in a curious position. She sensed that Derek was growing to love her. But she couldn't decide if he was averse to marriage in general, or just marriage to her. Yet one thought recurred. Was she unthinkable as a bride merely because he was an earl and she apparently lacked a title, fortune, or roots?

And if that was the case, why hadn't she told him who she was?

T
he bloody man's grown larger,
Chancey thought when he first arrived in Sydney and found Sutherland. Grown larger and lighter, as daft as that might sound. It was as if some burden had been lifted from his shoulders. Sutherland smiled. Often. Chancey pondered what had happened to him. Then Nicole rushed across the deck, laughing, to be swung up in Sutherland's arms.

Nicole had happened to him.

The man was their enemy, but she'd obviously forgotten that fact. Surely he couldn't be seeing her look at the man as if he alone existed for her, as if she loved him! Chancey cursed bitterly. They had to wed. From their closeness, he figured they'd have to wed very fast.

He wasn't fool enough to go storming the ship, not with Sutherland holding her, with his body language daring anyone to come near what was his. And besides wanting to kill the captain, Chancey had some bones to pick with a couple of his sailors. So he was glad to see that she had been seeing him off. Chancey's hands clenched when the bastard gave her a long, lingering kiss. But when he pulled her in again to gently kiss the top of her head, Chancey decided with relief that the man wanted her for more than one reason.

He followed behind Sutherland until they were out of earshot of the ship, then strode up to jab at his back. The man turned in a flash, his whole body tensed for a fight. Chancey just made out the slight look of surprise on his face before he concealed it behind a cold mask.

“We're gonna be talkin' now.”

In response, Sutherland gave a quick nod.

The captain following him, Chancey ambled to a nearby pub, deserted at this time of morning. When they sat at a back table, he called for two whiskeys. He figured he needed one, and didn't doubt the man before him did, too.

He asked questions and, after a while, Sutherland loosened up and talked. Chancey learned of Sutherland's belief that Nicole had poisoned his crew. He listened as Sutherland told him about the storm and about Tallywood. When necessary, he prompted the man with questions about Nicole, obviously his favorite subject, to keep him talking.

When Chancey felt confident that she was safe and hadn't been mistreated, he relaxed marginally. It occurred to him that he and the captain agreed on a lot of views. If Sutherland weren't a reprobate drunk who'd seduced Nicole, they might have been friends.

Suddenly Sutherland got that cold look on his face again, and Chancey realized he'd somehow revealed that this conversation was about to change course. The blighter didn't show a hint of surprise when Chancey announced, “Ye're marryin' her tomorrow.”

When Sutherland said nothing, he continued, “I let ye go once when I should o' made ye marry her, but I'll not make the same mistake again.”

“As much as I would like to marry her—I can't.” He ran a hand over his grim face.

“Can't or won't?” Chancey ground out as he leaned forward. “I'll kill ye if ye don't make this right for her.”

Sutherland didn't back down, just spoke in a toneless voice. “I want to spend the rest of my life with her.” He paused, a bleak look in his eyes. “But there are circumstances at home that make a marriage to her impossible.”

“Impossible? Nothin's impossible,” Chancey spat out before he swooped his glass up to his lips. After a deep draw, he added, “Ye'll just have to get around whatever obstacle stands in the way of marryin' my lass—”

“Impossible,” Sutherland said, more to himself than to Chancey.

Chancey leapt out of his chair and began pacing by the table to try to get control, but his temper won out.

“Damn it, Sutherland,” he snarled, “the only way that marryin' Nicole would be impossible would be if—” He broke off, then sucked in his breath as sudden understanding washed over him. His shoulders sagged. He was stricken as much by his own conclusion as by the utterly dead look in Sutherland's eyes.

With a surge of rage, Chancey heaved him out of his chair and held him by the collar. But Sutherland did nothing. The bastard wouldn't fight him.

Finally Sutherland spoke. “I want to take care of her. I can give her a house and wealth and everything else she might ever want.”

Chancey hit him so hard his fist vibrated from the force of it. Sutherland didn't defend himself.

“Blighter! So ye'll make her yer mistress,” Chancey spat. “Spend two nights with the missus and the children, then a few with Nicole and any bastards she might get by ye?”

“No
. It would only be Nicole. I've never touched my wife.”

That surprised Chancey, but it didn't matter. “Ye have no idea how much ye've cost her. Seems she hasn't seen fit to tell ye what she is. But I'll tell ye that ye're gonna have hurt more than her feelin's when all this mess is over.”

“What do you mean?” Sutherland asked slowly as Chancey released him in disgust.

“I mean she had prospects, great ones. I know cause I seen 'em. Better than you can imagine.” Suddenly, Chancey felt very old and very sad. He sat heavily with a great exhalation of air, then took another burning drink. “Ye need to leave her alone. Just pack up and sail.”

Sutherland cautiously sat when Chancey did, but his whole body tensed at the suggestion. “Just leave her? With no explanation?”

“She could forgive herself for lovin' ye without marriage, but unlike ye, it would kill her to know she'd committed adultery.”

Sutherland winced, but asked, “What do you think it will do to her when I just disappear?”

“It'll hurt her to be sure. But she'll get over ye.” Chancey pinned him with his eyes. “Ye have to do this.”

“I can't—not to her,” he said firmly.

“Ye mean ye can't do this for her because all ye care about is yerself. What do ye have to offer her?” Chancey abruptly stood again. “Ye're nothin' but a shell of a man anyway—and a drunk to boot. And that's somethin' for an Irisher to accuse.” He marched back and forth. “If ye break clean with her, in time she'll forget about ye. She's young enough to find another.”

Chancey finally made out an unconcealable emotion on Sutherland's face, and wished he hadn't. It was as if raw pain surfaced to smother and kill any hope that had been there. It also signaled to Chancey that Sutherland accepted he was right, so he said nothing more.

His face cold again, Sutherland spoke, “I want one more night with her.”

Chancey shook his head sharply. “Not a chance.”

“It's the only way I'll agree to this. And you have to take money to settle on her, to make sure she has everything she needs for the rest of her life.”

“Ferget it.” He needed to get this drunken bastard, a married one at that, out of her life as soon as possible.

The captain stood and turned to walk away. Before he got to the door, Chancey grabbed his arm. “One night. Ye do anythin' to hurt my Nic, and I'll gladly kill ye.”

 

Nicole could easily pass for a princess, Derek thought as he watched her sipping wine across the table from him. In fact, several people around them stared at her as if they thought she was. Their reaction wasn't simply caused by her beauty. Even among those dining in this exclusive establishment, she stood out as a royal would.

She'd dressed to perfection in one of the gowns he'd given her. The emerald patterned silk brought out her fiery coloring and made her dark eyes take on a green shade. Her ensemble had an oriental feel to it, and in her shining hair she wore the intricately carved jade combs he'd given her to match.

Seeing her at this meal, he concluded she unquestionably would have other prospects. She could make a king fall in love with her.

He'd always been amazed at her perfect manners off the ship. When not shark fishing or kicking villains to their knees, Nicole Lassiter behaved like a spirited member of the nobility. Well, a very spirited member. It was as if the minute she donned a dress, she transformed into a lady. Tonight was no exception. She handled the dinner courses and all their attendant silver better than he did. Where had she learned and perfected those skills?

She was a paradox. In his bed, she was fearless—unhesitant to partake in whatever he suggested to bring them pleasure. And after she'd apparently accepted they would be together, he'd seen a side of her he'd never imagined. When not making love—and sometimes even then—she became playful. She'd tickle him, dance away from him elusively, laughing with as much abandon as she made love.

Now, as he surveyed her across the table, another person seemed to inhabit her body. He believed she could make even his mother feel a tad inadequate at a social affair. He recognized that Chancey was right.

Unfortunately, Derek recognized this after he sensed she had let down her guard and accepted him. He believed she'd stay with him despite the less-than-perfect circumstances surrounding them. The irony of the situation wasn't lost on Derek. Just when he could finally call her his, when he had claimed more than her body, he had to let her go.

He was brooding when they exited the carriage, but as he followed her up the gangway, he couldn't prevent a slight quirk of his lips. One thing about her was completely out of the ordinary, even when she put on her polite façade. He didn't think she even realized it.

Nicole had the purposeful, exacting walk of someone always at sea, as if unconsciously she expected the ground to tilt at any moment. He smiled to see this seasoned sailor's trait in a woman. But the smile disappeared when he was reminded that her female body translated that walk into an undulating gait, a hip-swinging sweep that was incredibly erotic.

Later when they fell into bed together, he could feel her damp and ready for him. Instead of sliding into her, he worshipped her body, kissing her closed eyes, the tip of her nose, the small shell curve of her ear. Each part of her had become precious to him.

With the barest flick of his tongue, he kissed her belly and her inner thighs. Soft and lush beneath his lips, her body shook as he savored her, wringing every ounce of pleasure. When he took her, it was with an agonizing slowness, until at last he could no longer resist the feel of her core hotly hugging his flesh in her climax. Never quickening his body over hers, continuing the tormenting pace of pushing and pulling, he allowed himself to pour into her.

As they lay sated, he could feel her tears on his chest. Before she fell asleep in his arms, she sighed, “I love you.”

Her words lanced his heart. He thought of all the months he'd wanted her and wanted her to stay with him. Then, just as she gave in, decided to risk all for him, to trust him, he would leave her. He bent down to press a kiss in her hair, knowing it was the last time he'd breathe in her scent.

He recalled his last words to the Irisher this morning. Derek had turned back and asked the big man, “Why are you so bloody loyal to the Lassiters?”

The Irisher didn't hesitate. “Because the father saved my life, and the daughter saved my soul.”

Derek had nodded and turned to go with a heavy heart, knowing that without Nicole, his own soul was lost.