A Perfect Lady, page 11
part #3 of The Mackenzie Brothers Series
“The champagne,” she murmured as the heat in her cheeks worsened. His gaze remained steady. Gold flecks swirled through his irises. They were beautiful, his eyes. Dark and soulful. Sensual. Seductive. She could imagine there weren’t many women who could resist James McKenzie when he set his sights on them.
Still, she held his gaze even when his fingers brushed hers and made her breath so hard to catch. “I don’t know if I should even say this, but I only remember bits and pieces of that night.”
“What?” His eyes crinkled at their outer corners. “You don’t remember?”
“I’d had several glasses of champagne myself.” She bit the inside of her bottom lip, feeling utterly foolish and very much the trollop. “Yours was not the only judgment clouded, I’m afraid.”
“So not only did I ruin you, but I took advantage of you as well. Perhaps I am a cad.” The crinkles smoothed as his smile faded. His thumbs swept along the backs of her hands, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper. “And not only am I a cad, but apparently not nearly as skillful as I like to think I am.”
“I wish I could remember. It doesn’t seem fair, to have all of this happen and yet be unable to even recall what must have been a wonderful night.” The words were out before she could halt them, but she didn’t regret uttering them. From what she did remember, it was a wonderful evening. Most likely a treasured memory. If only she could remember. She frowned. Damn champagne.
James rose, gently drawing her up before him. “It was a wonderful night, indeed, sweetheart.” His irises darkened to make those gold flecks even brighter as he slid an arm around her waist. “You were warm and sweet and sensual, and I was a very lucky man.”
He tightened his hold on her to bring her flush against him. The contact sent her blood rushing through her, hot and thick, and the sensations spun her head. He bent toward her, his breath warm on her cheek as he continued, “I asked you to stay the night with me, and I was never more sorry to hear the word no.”
She tried to laugh again, but tears came instead to clog her throat and blur her vision. She sank into him. Her shoulders shook from the force of the unexpected sobs. James said nothing, just held her tighter still until she cried herself out.
He caught her chin with one finger, lifting it to bring her gaze to meet his. “Feel better?”
She hiccupped, then smiled and nodded. “Yes, actually.”
“Good.” He released her chin and swept a gentle thumb over her cheek. That light graze sent the tingling sensations spinning through her again, and it worsened as his lips brushed her cheekbone. They were soft and dry, teasing as they swept toward her ear. Her breath was even harder to catch now, with that gentle caress. It sent such a heady rush through her. Who knew a kiss, not even a real kiss, but just a quick brush of his lips against her skin, could evoke such a sensation? She sucked in a sharp breath as he added, “And I would very much like the opportunity to spend another night the same way.”
The dizziness threatened to knock her from her feet, and she found herself clinging to him, her fingers catching in the rough-hewn linen of his tunic. Without warning, he shifted her in his arm, and his lips came down to claim hers.
It was a gentle kiss, his lips moving against hers. The tip of his tongue teased her lips into parting, and then caressed hers when she surrendered. She melted into him, her grip easing as her muscles refused to hold her up any longer. The arm about her waist tightened while his free hand came up to curve against her cheek.
A mewl rose to her lips when he broke the kiss, but her protest died when he murmured, “Does this mean you would like the same?”
She nodded, the words out before she could think about it. “Oh, yes. Yes, I would.”
He pulled away, but not before brushing a kiss over her forehead. “I’ll go arrange supper to be brought down, and will make certain everyone knows I am not to be disturbed this evening. For anything.”
Her face had to be glowing bright red, and she chewed at her bottom lip even as she nodded. Why should she deny herself something that she would probably enjoy, and what did it matter now? He was her husband. It wasn’t as if it could lead to a second ruination.
But even as he kissed her forehead again, and then left, she couldn’t help feel just a tiny bit wicked at the desire bubbling just beneath the surface of her skin.
How wonderful that wickedness felt.
Chapter Ten
Shadows grew long on the walls as the sun began its descent, and as the dusk thickened, Rebecca couldn’t sit still. Every nerve in her body fired at the same time. Her head pounded from it, filling her with the urge to move. Slow breaths were impossible. Every noise had her jumping, and then she chided herself for her foolishness.
When she tried to sit, her leg jumped. Her feet refused to remain still, her toes tapping or heels scuffing as she swung her legs. The cabin seemed so much smaller than it did earlier. Smaller and more suffocating. And that only served to make her restlessness even worse.
“Stop being such a ninny,” she muttered, pacing to the door and back. “You have nothing to fear. You’ve already done this. So why are you so nervous?”
Because it might as well be her first time with him, considering how little she remembered. That’s why her gut threatened to eat itself alive.
Her hand curved against her belly. How much longer would it be before her condition became apparent? It still didn’t seem real to her, although she knew for certain it was. The last lingering traces of doubt disappeared over the last two weeks.
But it all still seemed so unreal. A child. A new life. How amazing.
She jumped as unexpected thunder rattled the cabin to its timbers and lightning slashed through the gloom. Rain slashed against the window, hard and furious, and when she peered through the dotted glass, she was surprised to see the sky had gone from being filled with puffy white clouds, to an ominous shade of pewter, with evil-looking black clouds rolling toward them.
White-capped waves slapped into one another, their foamy crests rising higher and angrier with each pass. What had been a gently rocking ocean rapidly shifted into a furious sea looking to destroy any ship with gall enough to attempt crossing through the storm. The Siren may have been a large, sturdy ship, but even so, when up against a storm-ravaged sea, it was insignificant. The ocean could take the ship apart if it wanted to.
The blackness stretched out to the horizon, dark and endless, and refused to let any light pierce it, wrapping her in its shrouded arms. The winds gathered strength, whistling as it breached the panes and leaked into the cabin, and she shivered as the temperature dropped to leave the cabin damp and cold.
“Rebecca?” James didn’t trouble to knock, but simply thrust the door open. “Are you all right down here?”
She turned away from the window. Moisture beaded on the small pane. That unsettled her. She far preferred to think of the Siren as completely watertight. Something as simple as a loose pane of glass was enough to keep her awake all night. “The sun was shining just a while ago.”
“That happens on the water. Storms crop up without warning, and some can be pretty nasty. I don’t want you coming up on deck for anything.”
“Why would I? I’ve told you I don’t like being on deck. I especially don’t like it in this sort of weather.” She wrapped her arms tighter about herself and resisted the urge to stare at the wet glass. Was it her imagination, or did it have more moisture on it? “You needn’t worry. I’m not coming anywhere near topside.”
“One less thing for me to worry about.” The door closed with a soft bang, and he leaned against it. “However, I’m afraid our evening is going to have to wait.”
The pang of disappointment that twinged her insides was a surprise, but still she nodded. Yes, there were more drops on the window. “Of course. You’re needed up there.”
“It would seem that way.” James pushed up from the door, a smile playing about his lips as he closed the gap between them. Somehow, she didn’t think the shivers trickling along her spine had anything to do with the wind any longer, and biting down on her bottom lip, she turned halfway back to the window. Her belly tightened as his lips brushed her shoulder, grazing up into the curve of her neck. “And unfortunately, the weather doesn’t give a damn about what I’d rather be doing.”
No, those shivers had absolutely nothing to do with the wind, which roared past the window and rattled the glass in its brass frame. Her eyelids grew heavy with the next pass of his lips on her skin. She bit down harder on her lip, fighting the urge to sigh. Sharp tingles poked their way through her, starting at her core to spill through her.
He slid one arm about her waist to draw her against his chest. Heat seemed to rise from him, only to sink into her, and when he spoke, his voice was a growled whisper, “But there will be several more nights before we reach New Jersey, sweetheart. And with any luck, they won’t all be stormy nights.”
“Yes…” Dear Lord, did she truly sound that breathless? And did it matter? His lips on her neck, so gentle and teasing, did the oddest thing to her. She didn’t care about the windows or the waves or anything else for that matter. She only wanted to melt into him, to slide her arms about his neck and draw him to her, to tug him down until his lips touched hers and forget about where they were, forget the raging weather all around them.
Just as she did that night…
An image flashed through her mind. His room at the Sheraton house had doors that opened onto a terrace, just as her chambers in Windemere did. Beautiful expanses of shimmering chiffon framed the doors, fluttering on the night breeze. It was there that she offered her surrender to him, the marble floor cool beneath her feet and the moonlight playing off the dark wood furniture. It was there when he came up behind her, when his arms slid about her waist, when his hands came up to tug at her bodice —
Lightning sliced into the darkness behind her closed eyelids, and she snapped them open as thunder rolled loud enough to rattle the ship. James’s arm tightened briefly, and his lips left her skin. “I should go back up. Mr. Tims isn’t at all comfortable with being at the helm in such terrible weather. And I’m not so comfortable with it myself.”
She nodded, the last of her desire disappearing with the next crash of thunder that shook the Siren even harder. It was difficult to care much, when the ship felt as if it was rolling onto its side. A nervous laugh rose to her lips. “I think I would also feel more comfortable.”
“Then it’d be best if I went back up and made us all more comfortable.”
Wood groaned as the ship lurched again. Rebecca steadied herself by grabbing the edge of the table. James grinned. “Sea legs are tough to find in a storm. By the time you figure it out, we’ll be in port. So — ” he brushed a kiss over her forehead “ — why don’t you just go to bed and try your best not to topple right out of it, while I go and try my best to not get us all killed?”
“Killed?” She hadn’t meant it to emerge as a squeak, but James just winked, kissed her forehead again, and left to go make them all much more comfortable.
With nothing better to occupy her time, she did just as he suggested and readied for bed. She slipped beneath the sheets, cramming herself tightly against the wall.
However, sleep aluded her. Although her eyelids were heavy, they refused to stay closed. The storm gathered strength, the winds shrieking past the window, the thunder rattling the timbers, the ocean threatening to topple the Siren into its depths. The queasiness returned, worse than before, and as the night wore on, she found herself clinging to the linens. She twisted one hand in the sheet so tightly, the fabric pinched the flesh along the side of her hand. However, the stinging took her mind from her roiling belly. At least, it did for a while. But then it roared back with all the intensity of the storm. And it was even worse than before.
“Oh… God help me…” she moaned, tightening the sheet about her hand. The linen was damp with sweat, but she didn’t care, as the sour taste in her mouth rose and fell with the ship. She wasn’t sick, but was rapidly reaching a point where she wished she would and be done with it. At least then she would feel better, even if it was only temporarily.
But it never happened. The hours crept by, the cabin grew lighter, although not by much, and she even managed to sleep a bit. When the blackness faded to gray, her grip eased on the sheet. She winced, stretching her cramped hand then wiggling her fingers.
The door opened, and James staggered in, his breeches and tunic wrinkled and dripping wet, his hair pasted to his head from his journey from the wheelhouse to the staircase. He looked exhausted, the shadows beneath his eyes almost as dark as his eyes themselves. And although she was fairly certain it was impossible, he seemed to have sprouted a thick, full beard overnight.
The chair legs squeaked across the floor as James flopped into it with a low groan and rubbed his face with both hands. “Holy…”
She sat up, throwing off the quilts. “Has the storm ended?”
“Not quite. But it’s eased, and Mr. Tims was afraid I’d capsize us on the next rogue wave if I didn’t come down and get some sleep.” He lowered his hands to offer up a sleepy smile. “And everyone preferred we not capsize. No matter how uncomfortable my leaving might make everyone.”
A grin accompanied his words, and she returned it. “I’d have to agree.” She rose onto somewhat unsteady legs and gestured to the bed. “I do hope you weren’t even considering that hammock, Captain.”
His head lolled lazily from left to right. “Actually, I was considering right here. I don’t know I can move. Here is also not entirely uncomfortable, either.”
“Let me help you.”
“No. I’m fine.” He yawned and pushed himself up and out of the chair to stumble toward the bed. She held her breath as he threw himself face down onto the mattress, then let out a long, low growl of appreciation.
She was just tugging the sheets up when he turned his head toward her. “I thank you for not making me climb up into that net. I’d most likely hang myself in it.”
“I am not so cruel as to make you do that,” she replied, bending over to take hold of the quilt and draw it up to his shoulders. “You should sleep now.”
“I don’t know I have much choice,” he murmured, his voice thickening and his eyelids drooping. “I never realized how comfortable this bed truly is. Or how much I hate that damn hammock.”
His voice faded more with each word, until the last one emerged as a faint whisper. She smiled as his jaw slackened and he let out a loud snore.
When he opened his eyes, James found Rebecca, still dressed in her nightclothes, sitting at the table, a book open on it. As she read, she absently twirled a lock of chestnut hair about her forefinger. He lay there, watching her as she turned a page, then another, all the while twirling that same lock of hair.
“Is that how you get it to curl?”
She jumped, knocking the book off the table. A blush stung her cheeks as she bent to retrieve it. “How long have you been awake?”
“Not long.” He rose up onto one elbow. “Did I remember to thank you for not making me sleep in that damned hammock?”
“You did.” She closed the book to set it on the table and turned toward him. Her cheeks were still pink, the lock of hair she’d been twisting still curled as it fell over her shoulder. The rest of her hair was drawn up into a knot at the nape of her neck, and she looked tired.
“Did you sleep at all last eve?”
“A bit, but not much. It took me nearly half an hour to climb up into that hammock — ”
“You slept in the hammock?”
She winced. “I thought you’d sleep more soundly without me in the bed with you.”
“Allow me to correct that notion at once, sweetheart.” He couldn’t resist a grin. “And I don’t want to hear of you climbing up into anything from this day forth.”
“You needn’t worry, as it won’t happen again. I spent most of the night trying my best to not tumble from it. That fear made sleeping not so easy.” She glanced at the window. Pale sunlight shone through, dust motes swirling through the beams. “The storm has passed. Mr. Tims came down to put my mind at ease earlier this morning. The sky is blue, and the sun is bright.”
“And everyone breathes a sigh of relief, I’m sure.” He sat up and stretched. His back and shoulders ached from the strain of fighting with the wheel against a sea determined to remain firmly in control. The ache stretched down his arms, into his wrists and hands. He flexed his fingers, and then swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Please, return to your book. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“Now, why do I find that hard to believe?” She said it with a grin, the color coming into her cheeks again. She must have felt it, for she flipped open the book, then bent over it. Unfortunately for her ruse, the book was upside down.
He said nothing, but rose and tugged his tunic over his head. As he passed by her to toss it into the basket by the wardrobe, he reached down to spin the book into the proper position. She also remained silent, but when he peered back, he found her chewing away on her bottom lip. Teasing words danced on the tip of his tongue, but he thought better and pulled open the left hand door of the narrow wardrobe.
“Do you need help dressing?” he asked, taking down a shirt of fine white lawn to draw on.
She glanced down at the plain pale blue dressing gown she wore. “I hadn’t thought about it. But since Miss Bertrand won’t be assisting me…”
She was right. Dear God, was it only yesterday the maid tried to choke his wife? Seemed a bit longer ago than only a few hours. His left hand tensed into a fist. If the maid were a man, James would have him tied to a capstan and laid his flesh bare. And if Rebecca turned bloodthirsty enough to demand Agnes flogged, he just might see it through. “Have you been to see her?”
“No.” Rebecca slapped the book shut again. “Nor will I go see her. If we were on St. Kitts, I’d demand she be dismissed.” She sighed then, tapping her forefinger against the book’s pebbled leather cover. “Which would have gone ignored, since my father was far too busy plowing her. Although, I did dismiss her just the same.”
