The Captain of All Pleasures (31 page)

 

After five days of travel and five nights of separate rooms in roadside inns, neither Derek nor Nicole was interested in celebrating their nuptials in any way but one. Within minutes after the ceremony, they were back in their room, so quickly that tears lingered in her eyes from Derek's solemn, serious tone when he promised himself to her. After they'd signed their names together, that fierce, elemental look flashed in his eyes, and they'd all but ignored the congratulatory wishes.

His passion easily ignited her own. As soon as the door to their room at the inn closed, without a word they assailed each other. She grabbed at his clothes, fighting buttons, filling her fists with his shirt, occasionally twisting her arms behind her to help him with her intricately wrought dress.

“To hell with this,” he growled at her resisting clothing, ripping through enough of her bodice to get his lips on her breasts.

“Derek,”
she said his name like a prayer, with the first pull on her nipple.

“God, I've missed you,” he murmured, his breath hot against her damp breast, before thoroughly attending to the other. “I can't believe you're here. With me.”

“Oh, Derek…I want you inside me,” she whimpered. “Now, can we now?”

He groaned low in his throat as his hand dove beneath her dress and slid up her stockings. Running his fingers up her thigh, he grasped the flimsy material barring him and ripped that away as well. She felt his returning hand discover her moist and hot, his fingers seeming to luxuriate in her.

“Please…” she moaned.

Shoving up her skirts, he moved her against the wall and hastily freed himself. Her hand shot out to grip his stiff flesh springing forth, curving around the shaft to pull him to her. Just as she was about to guide him in, he put his hand tight over hers and moved the head up and down against her wetness. Up and down once, twice. She keened his name as ecstasy spiked through her, her eyes flashing open in surprise at her swift response.

He wrapped his hand around the back of her head and plunged into her before she'd even stopped convulsing.
“You drive me mad,”
he ground out as he clenched her hips. “For months I ached for you,” he rasped against her lips.

Once more she called his name; as he slammed into her again and again, she never took the ease of a climax, only continued straining toward something even more consuming.

Each time he sank into her, she flew closer…too intense, nearing pain. She tried to hold on. Tried to see to his pleasure with clasping, frantic hands. In that final instant when he'd grown too large inside her, when the low rumbling broke from his throat, she shattered, feeling only rapture and Derek pouring hotly into her.

T
hough they'd spent three days in Scotland, in bed, neither Derek nor Nicole wanted to leave the shelter of their room and return to reality. Outside, rain spilled down in sheets, but inside they were warm, basking in firelight and a haze of contentment.

“Being a husband,” Derek said as he lazily skimmed the backs of his fingers up her thighs, “is quite easy.”

“You think so?” she sighed. She was languid, relaxed as she hadn't been since her last time in his bed. She'd needed him, needed what only he could give her. She lay on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, eating grapes from his hand.

“With the right wife,” he said with a grin. “I don't suppose you have any idea what this”—he ran a finger up her cleavage—“or this”—he palmed her uncovered derriere—“is doing to your ancient husband?”

She looked down to see his thick erection tenting the sheet, and her lips curved. She'd take care of that shortly….

During the afternoon, in the time they weren't making love, they'd enjoyed a delicious lunch of medallions of veal sent up to their room in the quaint inn. Now they sprawled on the bed absently snacking on fruit and, she imagined, reviving for the rest of the night.

“I think we should go to Italy for our honeymoon. Take a couple of months—”

“Months?” She sucked another grape from his fingers. “You know I need to be back to help Father and Maria.”

He frowned. “No, I didn't know that,” he said, and dropped his hand. “Nicole, your father made his own troubles—he shouldn't look to you to bail him out.”

“He's not.” She sat up and pulled a cover over her. “He would never take a dime from me. I want to help.”

“You know that by helping him, you're hurting me?” he asked her, a peculiar look on his face.

She supposed they were about to have their first married fight. Just days after the ceremony.

“What do you think you can do to help him?” he asked as he set the tray of food on the bed table. “You told me he has Maria involved now.”

“They'll need someone in England. I can handle the correspondence here—”

“You mean handle the creditors. You are a countess now, and if you think I'll let my wife wrangle with a pack of those bastards, you are insane. Much less creditors bent on liquidating my main competition.”

“I can't believe you'd say that.” She shot him a hurt look before she jumped from the bed and slid into a shift.

He leaned forward. She'd forgotten how intimidating he could appear. In a softer, deceptively reasonable tone, he explained, “Nicole, you can't work with him because very shortly he'll have nothing to work with.”

She almost blurted out that they'd gotten new, more favorable financing, but she wouldn't betray her father. She wanted to shock the world, and her disbelieving husband, when Lassiter Shipping came back stronger than ever.

“You are no longer involved with that line,” he said, his jaw tight. “Period. I would have expected a little more bloody loyalty from my
wife
. Let your father figure his way out of this.”

“Why can't you compromise? We can find a way around most of the direct competition—”

“Why should I compromise?” he snapped. He leapt up as well and began stabbing his legs into his trousers. “You need to decide where your loyalties lie. Every second you help him is time in which you neglect me.”

“So this is about more than the companies, isn't it? You want my loyalty and think I can't give it to you and him both.” The thought that she'd deliberately led Derek to believe her father was without money fluttered in her mind. When he began to say more, she interrupted, “Don't tell me to choose. You do not want me to do that right now.”

His eyes bored into hers, his face tense.

“Don't ask me to choose between you, who is being overbearing and unreasonable, and my father and Maria, who were there to pick me up when you abandoned me.” A tear slid down her cheek.

His eyes widened, barely perceptibly, and he reached out to smooth the tear away. “Damn it, Nicole. This got out of hand. I'm…” He exhaled. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I turn into an ass around you. I think it's because I'm on unsure footing with you.”

“Unsure footing? When have I ever given you anything to doubt?”

“You haven't. But after what I did to you…I wonder how you could forgive me.”

“So you want me to prove myself, my feelings for you, by choosing you over my family? Isn't the fact that I married you enough?”

“Only after I dragged you to the altar.”

“If you think you pushed marriage on me, then you don't know me at all. I made a decision because I think we can have a good life together. But not if you can't be reasonable and respect my feelings.”

“I'm sorry, love. Let's forget this.”

“I would like to think you'd help my father if he needed it.”

He shook his head slowly. “I'll give you anything, but that's something I'll never do.”

The finality in his words made her realize she should just accept the hatred between the two. Why fight it? Her father had provoked Derek; she knew that. And Derek obviously wouldn't be the bigger man and bury the animosity.

Still, thinking of the blows her father had dealt Peregrine made it difficult to blame Derek. But that didn't make the sadness go away. Even when he stroked her face and her frown eased, she dreaded telling her father about her marriage to his worst enemy, an enemy content to stay that way.

 

Derek knew they couldn't continue like this. He'd hurt Nicole. He never wanted to do that again. She was his wife now, a beautiful, courageous woman who could love him. He didn't want to think he was the only thing standing in the way of her complete happiness.

Even now, as they rode home, he wondered about her. Was she looking out the carriage window, thinking, regretting their marriage? He knew she worried about Lassiter's company. And he knew having to tell her father about the marriage weighed on her.

After they arrived home in London and he'd introduced her to his staff, he noticed her suppressing a yawn. He flushed; he hadn't thought how the late nights and the travel might affect her.

He didn't wait, but scooped her into his arms, carrying her to his room.

“Derek!”

“I'm putting you to bed.”

“It's the middle of the day. I can't go to sleep.” When they entered his bedroom, she yawned again. “Well, perhaps…” She looked around the spacious, mahogany-paneled room. “This is your room.”

She wouldn't want to sleep with him? “Is that bad?”

“No, I like it here. I just don't know why I'm so tired.”

“Because I've made love to you continually for three days,” he said as he set her down and began undoing her buttons. “Even a lusty woman like you has her limits.” He drew the gown over her head and kissed her neck. “Anyone would need some rest after the last few nights.”

She finished undressing down to her shift. “Maybe for a few minutes, but then I have to go to my father. They'll be back by now.” Her voice was sad, her tone lethargic.

He pulled the counterpane over her as she snuggled down in his bed. He liked seeing her there. Kissing her forehead, he said, “I know. We'll talk when you wake up.”

After he left her, he settled in his study, looking out the window, lost in thought. Damn it, he didn't want Nicole to feel like this! Yes, she acted much the same outwardly, but she wasn't happy. He'd sworn to be a better husband, a sober husband, and he knew she believed in him. But she needed more.

He sank back in his chair.

Even if he wanted to end the war between him and Lassiter, what could he do? Unlike Nicole, Derek didn't think an apology and a handshake would suffice for the bast—the man. No, some things were better left alone.

In Sydney, Derek had ceased to dismiss it when she told him he was a good man inside, but he hadn't been giving her much to believe in lately. If he didn't change, he would lose her. Period. And he couldn't imagine life without her.

N
icole awoke an hour later, unable to sleep any longer. She rose and redressed, splashing water on her face and smoothing her hair before going in search of her husband in the huge mansion. A servant told her he'd gone out ten minutes before and wasn't expected back before dinner.

He must be out seeing to business. She sighed. In the back of her mind, she'd thought Derek would come around. That's why she'd let their argument drop. But he'd fled without even accompanying her to her father's ship, much less giving her a kiss good-bye. She'd be facing her father on her own.

After a short carriage ride, she boarded the
Griffin.
Chancey was there to greet her. Well, not precisely—he silently indicated with his hand that she should follow him into the room directly off the salon, then left without a word.

From the next room, she could hear a conversation just beginning between her father and…her husband! Did Chancey want her to overhear what was said?

“What do you want?”
Lassiter snapped.

Nicole heard Maria say softly, “Jason…”

Amazingly, her father calmed and said gruffly, “Well, why've you come here?”

Maria added, “Captain Sutherland, we are very honored to have you visit us.”

“I'm glad to have been admitted,” Derek replied.

Her father sounded angry again. “We're waiting—state your business and be gone.”

Derek took a deep breath. “I want—I need…your help,” he finally bit out.

Lassiter burst out laughing. Nicole couldn't believe the man cackling was related to her.

Maria spoke over his laughter. “How can we be of service to you?”

“I need help with Nicole.” At that, Lassiter fell silent. Until he bellowed, “What have you done?” He must have lunged for Derek, because she heard scuffling and glass breaking. Nicole was up and not quite at the door when Maria said, “Jason!” Then the room quieted. Nicole eased back.

“I procured an annulment and married her.” Again, the sound of another enraged attack. This time she heard a punch and was flying out the door. Chancey, standing in the corridor, eyebrows raised, intercepted her. Nicole whispered crossly, “Yes, I married him.”

He gave her a grave, satisfied nod, then placed his finger over his lips and leaned forward to listen at the door. Nicole looked in both directions, then threw up her hands in exasperation and tiptoed closer.

“I married her last week,” Derek said in an unmistakably skewed voice. Chancey gave a small punch in the air, then pointed to his nose with a questioning look. Nicole shook her head—she recognized that tone from experience, and answered by tapping her jaw.

“Perhaps you should explain what has occurred since we've been away,” Maria said in a tone that brooked no denial. She somehow kept Lassiter in check the entire time Derek recounted what had happened—well, most of what had happened—in the last couple of weeks.

“And that brings me to my visit here, to ask for your help,” he finished, sounding irritated that he'd had to go through the long explanation.

“Why should we help you?” her father said in a churlish tone. But did he sound less riled than before?

“Because I want to give her anything she needs to be content with me. Because I want to make it up to her for being—”

“An ass?” This actually from Maria.

“Yes, an ass.” His words sounded pulled from him.

“Well, what can we do? I'm not coming up with anything as a favor to you,” her father unnecessarily assured Derek.

“Nicole's dreaded telling you about the marriage, and she's worried about your company. I've told you about the marriage; you can't be angry with her about it, because I never would have given up. I would have pursued her until she said yes. And your company…” He paused. She could picture him running his hand through his hair as he did when frustrated. “I can think of nothing to save it unless I loan you money.”

“Loan me money?”

“I know the loss of the
Bella Nicola
brought the creditors down on you. If you let me assist your company, you can stave them off until you can get it back on its feet.”

“Let me get this straight—you want to give me money so my daughter will be happy?”

“She worries about you. Unless you have a better idea, that's exactly what I'm proposing.” Again, he was met by laughter.

Maria's voice sounded closer to Derek. “Captain Sutherland,” she began in a sympathetic tone, “Lassiter Shipping has had a new infusion of capital. We arranged for it in Cape Town. I've helped Jason with his accounting and a refinancing. I believe he's on much stronger footing than before.”

“That's right, Captain. Don't want your money and don't need it.”

Father!

“Jason, be understanding,” Maria said. “Have you forgotten that this man saved Nicole's life?”

“He also compromised her. When he was married.”

Derek spoke up, “That was wrong and I admit it—”

“But you were in love and couldn't help yourself?” Maria finished softly.

The room grew painfully silent. Nicole believed even her heart had stopped beating as she held her breath. What would he say? Did he really love her?

Then the answer, the rumble of a word exhaled on a breath: “Yes.”

And she was running past Chancey into the room, straight to her surprised husband, whose arms flew open to her. “I love you so much,” she sighed against his neck.

With his face in her hair, he murmured, “I love you, Nicole. More than I can say.”

When Maria coughed discreetly, Nicole turned in Derek's arms until they were both facing her father. “Father. You are
bad,”
she said, and he looked somewhat chagrined. “I love you both, so you'll simply have to bury the past.”

“But what about that time outside Hong Kong when he ran me into the jetty?” Lassiter complained like a scolded schoolboy.

Derek scowled at him and added, “Or that time in Melbourne when you told the port officials my crew was suffering from smallpox? My crew and cargo were quarantined for three weeks.”

“Enough!” Nicole commanded, looking from one man to the other. “Right now—you two, shake hands.” Neither moved. Until Maria pushed Lassiter forward just as Nicole dragged at Derek. With great effort on their part, and great reluctance from Derek and her father, the men shook hands.

“I'll kill you if you don't make her happy.”

“If I can't keep her happy, I might let you try.”

 

A wedding reception two weeks hence, to be held at Atworth House
.

The marchioness had decreed it so, and everyone was happy to oblige.

The evening of the celebration had been wonderful for Derek, next to perfect except for the few sarcastic comments Lassiter made. But Derek was beginning to see the humor behind some of the man's words…if he was very, very generous. With time, there might exist a grudging goodwill between them.

Although the festivities were still in full swing, he made his way to the door. Nicole had retired early, and he was anxious to join her.

“Derek,” Grant called from the terrace. He was standing outside alone, smoking a cigar.

He'd wanted to talk to Grant ever since he'd brought Nicole home from the
Griffin
. He smiled as he remembered her that night. She was like a little general insisting they lay out guidelines and goals for their lives before they fell into bed. That part of their lives, she'd told him, needed no adjustment. The rest, however…

It had been unsettling to stretch himself and his beliefs to make her happy. Ultimately, however, he'd comprehended that with her fulfilled, he was fulfilled. He knew he'd been given a second chance with Nicole and with his family, and he didn't want his brother ever to worry again that Derek wouldn't meet his responsibilities.

Derek joined him at the rail overlooking the lantern-lit garden and took an offered cigar. “When will we be throwing one of these for you?”

Grant laughed. “Don't hold your breath.”

“No? What about Bainbridge's chit?”

“Despite all her family's zealous efforts, I remain a bachelor.”

Derek lit his cigar. “I always thought you would suit. She's nice and staid. Hard to believe you've resisted her scandal-free nature.”

“She is a nice girl. She even swore she'd wait for me to return.”

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Return?”

“You know Belmont's fool's errand?” Grant asked with a grin. “I signed on as the fool.”

“You're serious?”

He nodded. “I went back to him and counteroffered. He's to give me all of Belmont Court at his passing.”

Derek let out a surprised breath. “He must be convinced his son's family is out there to give away all he has left.”

“That's because Belmont is desperate. Very emotional man, that Belmont,” Grant explained in a censorious tone. “He fears his health is failing, and the thought of them out there stranded makes giving away his home a small concession to find them.”

Derek frowned. “But if he gives away the estate and you do find the family, what will become of them?”

“It didn't take you long to find the rub. If I were an intuitive man, I'd swear he dreams that I'll marry the granddaughter when I find her, and we'll all live at the court happily ever after, or some such nonsense.”

Derek paused, then pointed out, “You said ‘when.' ”

With a sheepish grin, Grant said, “Yes, well, that damn man actually has me believing it.” From his coat pocket, he pulled a fading daguerreotype of a towheaded young girl with a shy smile. “Look at her. She looks so delicate. If she did survive…Thinking of her, out there alone—”

Derek must have looked at Grant with surprise, because he hastily slid the likeness into his pocket, then said in a gruff voice, “Probably a waste of time. She most likely didn't survive.”

“I don't know if I like this,” Derek said with a wave of his cigar. “You're settling in at Peregrine. And I feel like I just got you back as my brother,” he added in a mutter. His wife had asked him not to hold back his feelings with his family, but he was new to it.

“You'll just have to miss me until we come back, because it's settled,” Grant advised good-naturedly. “And I figure, between you and Nicole, managing Whitestone and Peregrine for a year or so will be child's play.”

Derek tamped his cigar and gave Grant an expression of absolute agreement. “I expect Nicole would like to help Peregrine, now that her father won't be a head-to-head competitor.”

“Exactly so,” Grant agreed. “Who knows?” he began as the corner of his lips quirked up. “Maybe I'll find some hidden treasure.” He slapped Derek on the back and, with more excitement than Derek had heard from his brother in years, said, “I sail in a fortnight.”