Brazen Temptress (19 page)

"And have you found her?" she whispered.

"Oh, yes." He tipped his head and studied her for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was edged with a soft, gentle touch. "I didn't realize until today that I've spent my life looking for you." He plucked the dagger out of his belt and tossed it aside. "Come to me, my beautiful bride. Tonight we start a lifetime of nights together."

Captured by his command and the sensual promise of his gaze, she moved wordlessly into his embrace.

Their lips met in a searing kiss. His arms wound around her, pulling her against him. Last night's gentle claiming was nothing in comparison to the wild heat burning between them now.

His teeth nipped at her lips, his tongue tasting her. She sighed and opened herself to him. They continued to kiss, until he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

She gazed up at him, and without breaking eye contact she reached up and plucked free the ribbon holding her hair. The long curls fell down around her shoulders. "Is this what you sought?" She said with a saucy smile, throwing her hair back, arching and stretching like a cat.

Julien seemed mesmerized by her movements. She stepped back and eased up the hem of her gown. Up over her stockings, up over her stomach, up over her unbound breasts and over her head. She tossed the dress aside and stood before him.

She reached out and caught his hand, guiding it to her breast. "Or was it this that you sought?"

His hand stroked her naked flesh, teasing her. She moved closer to him so his fingers could cup her, so he could taste her. His mouth dipped to the hard nipple, his tongue washing over the pebbled surface.

She sighed, a soft, throaty moan coming forth.

He pulled her closer, one hand around her waist. With a swift move he swept her up into his arms, carried her to the berth, and gently laid her down amongst the petals.

She inhaled deeply, breathing in the wild, sweet scent surrounding her. This magic would be forever, she thought.

In front of the berth, Julien quickly divested himself of his shirt and breeches. He joined her in their bed, cradling her in his arms.

"Maureen, my love. Whatever the future holds, know this: I love you. I'll love you always."

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Again they kissed, sealing their pledge, which seemed more sacred than the ones they'd repeated just a few hours earlier. And as they continued to kiss, he entered her, slow and tentatively. As her hips rocked to meet his movements, the heat between them grew, until it exploded in a fevered pitch.

They held on to each other, languishing in the afterglow, touching each other with a lazy reverence.

Several times during the night they made love. Each one with the same enchanted claiming.

Just before dawn she sighed and glanced over his shoulder and out the window, where night still held sway over the sun. From the cadence of the
Destiny,
it seemed as if they were moving.

"Have we gone adrift?" she said, sitting up.

He pulled her back down and into his arms. "I know I have." He laughed, as he began to make love to her again.

Maureen fell back into his arms, only too willing to believe her husband. And why shouldn't she? He loved her and she trusted him, trusted him with her life, with her heart.

But looking back, she should have said something, should have realized that his quick, witty answers about the lone sailor in the rowboat or why the
Destiny
felt as if it had gone adrift were nothing more than lies.

Just like everything about Captain Julien de Ryes.

Lady Weston's Ball
London
1813

Miss Fenwick, are you feeling ill?" Lord Hawksbury asked.

Maureen looked up, still distracted by the sight of Julien hovering over Miss Cottwell. "Uh, yes — I mean, no. I am quite fine, thank you."

She glanced one last time in Julien's direction, then turned her back to him. "What were you saying about a wager?"

At this the young man's features lit up. "A ride in the park. If my uncle proposes to Miss Cottwell before the midnight unmasking at my mother's masquerade."

"And if he doesn't?" she asked.

"Name your price."

"Your fastest horse."

The Earl turned a faint shade of scarlet. "My fastest horse? But that would hardly be ..."

Cocking an eyebrow at him, Maureen challenged his earlier offer to name her price.

The young man, honor and duty-bound from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, nodded in reluctant agreement to her outrageous request.

She meant to win this wager. She may well need a fast horse to get out of London if her growing suspicions about Julien were correct.

He certainly couldn't announce his engagement to Miss Cottwell with his living and breathing wife standing nearby to add her happy returns to the couple.

There was only one way Julien could take another wife.

Remove the first one.

And Maureen had no intention of giving him that chance.

She found herself watching Julien all night, despite the numerous invitations to dance, offers for punch, and other gentlemanly favors and distractions. Try as she might, she couldn't stop seeking him out.

The very thought of him with Miss Cottwell made her furious.

Jealous, even.

Just as he'd accused her of being.

What have I come to? she chastised herself. Jealous of Julien with another woman.

From the rumors she'd heard, he'd had a long string of mistresses, everything from demimondaine, actresses, and dancers to widows, wives, and even some young ladies, tempted from their privileged lives to utter ruin at his skillful hands.

The monstrous cad, she thought. The worst of it was that she had to count herself among the many fallen temptations in Julien D'Artiers's less than straight path.

Yet Julien's nephew was right about one thing, she thought. Julien was paying too much attention to Miss Cottwell. But marriage?

Maureen closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

It was supposed to have been so easy. Point him out to the Lord Admiral, see him hang, and sail away.

But something was changing inside her. Years of hate were falling away and leaving something else, something she feared would never allow her to see her vow completed.

Instead, she'd betrayed her father by letting Julien live. As much as he had betrayed Ethan Hawthorne by murdering him.

Not long after midnight, he appeared suddenly at her side. Without a word he took her hand and led her to the dance floor.

She didn't protest.

His touch, as it had in the carriage, reignited the desire she'd once felt for him. Her body was more than willing to break the faith and revel in the passion that brought them together in the past.

The warmth of his fingers penetrated her gloved hand. And as they trailed a slow, blazing path up her forearm, she shivered when he came to the brief bareness between her gloves and short-sleeved gown, his touch bringing back the memories she'd been replaying all evening long — their recent kiss in the carriage and now, as he held her so intimately, their wedding night.

His touch, his kiss, the feel of his naked skin over hers — it clouded her senses, left her missing the first step of the dance as the music began.

"What is it, Reenie?" he whispered. "What has you over a barrel tonight?"

They moved down the column of couples past Miss Cottwell, who appeared to be dancing with Julien's nephew.

He must have seen her glance in the girl's direction. "Eustacia?" He laughed. "I don't care how you may deny it, you're jealous of her."

"I would hardly say
jealous,"
she told him. "Why she's young enough to be your —"

"Wife?" he teased. "I always fancied a young wife, not one of these long-in-the-tooth spinsters who seem to be so popular this Season."

She deliberately trod on his foot as she passed him. "So it seems you will have your wish. I understand congratulations are in order. The room is rife with gossip that you are about to announce your betrothal to that witless child." She paused for a moment, for the steps had left them facing each other. "I find that an interesting notion, but with only one problem."

"And that would be?" he asked, his eyes wide with innocence.

"You already have a wife."

"Yes, but she won't claim me."

Maureen clamped her mouth shut.

Nor will I ever, she wanted to tell him.

If only she could say it. And mean it. "I'm just surprised you think the two of you suit," she managed to venture.

He nodded, as if considering her advice seriously. But the light behind his green eyes told her he was enjoying her discomfort enormously. "And what type of woman would you choose for me?"

"One who understands who you truly are."

"Touche," he said. "But I must argue in Miss Cottwell's defense that she has some amazing attributes that other women don't possess."

Maureen glanced over at the other girl. The angelic blond hair, the clear complexion, the perfect manners. But she hardly had the spark to match the fire Julien could kindle in a woman. "She is pretty," she conceded.

"I suppose so, but I fancy something different about her, something she has that no other lady in the room possesses."

What could the Lord Admiral's daughter have that all the other misses in the room didn't have? From Maureen's vantage point the girl had everything. Position, wealth, breeding, family connections.

Family connections.

Maureen stopped herself. Eustacia was the daughter of the Lord Admiral.

The Lord Admiral.

That was the key. And while the Lord Admiral might want to see Captain de Ryes rot in hell, he obviously viewed Julien D'Artiers in an entirely different light.

A light that went on in Maureen's head.

She glanced up at Julien. "If you married Eustacia, the Lord Admiral could hardly denounce you as de Ryes. Why, he'd look the worst fool for marrying you to his daughter and letting you have free rein in his home."

"Someone cynical might say that,
if
I intended to marry the chit."

"And you don't?"

"What do you think?" he asked, raising his gaze to meet hers.

There she saw it — the passion, need, and desire she recognized so well.

The same look he'd used to entice her back into his arms in the carriage just hours before.

As he looked at her, Maureen could almost feel his touch, as if he wanted her to know what he would be doing to her this night if only she would utter the words.

She tore her gaze away.

It was a dangerous course Julien was navigating, and she knew the reason why. By being close to Eustacia, he could move into the Lord Admiral's circle of confidence. From there he could more easily obtain the information about the payroll ship.

But in the meantime, if the Lord Admiral found out who he was, he might not denounce Julien outright, but that didn't mean the ruthless man wouldn't remove the problem of Captain de Ryes by other means ...

The same method he obviously planned to use on her.

"What is it, Reenie?" Julien whispered in her ear as he crossed behind her in the dance. "There is more to this than just Eustacia."

She glanced over at him. She had the capacity to help him. To stop him from continuing this dangerous masquerade. All she had to do was tell him about the
Bodiel.
Tell him everything she'd overheard about the payroll ship.

But that would mean she cared about his welfare. Wanted him to live. Wanted him.

"I am supposed to turn you in." She nodded slightly toward the Lord Admiral. "It seems he is in quite a state to see you hang."

"You and he have much in common," he joked.

Maureen didn't feel much like laughing.

Tell him,
a voice inside her called out.
Tell him and see him gone from London. You could both flee. Tonight. And be done with this place.

That would mean she trusted him, and she couldn't. Not until he came through on his promise to see her men and ship freed.

Instead, she asked, "How are your plans coming for my men?"

"Good," he said. "If you would like I could come over tonight and tell you what I have planned." His scorching gaze indicated his plans for the evening had nothing to do with her missing crew.

This time she did laugh. "I can just see Lady Mary allowing you in at that hour. Especially with that light in your eye."

The music was ending, as was their dance. He bowed over her hand, but before they parted he leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Lady Mary need never know. Leave your window unlatched. I'll come to you by moonlight."

Maureen was thankful that Lord Hawksbury came to claim her next dance so quickly. If he hadn't caught her by the elbow, her knees surely would have buckled beneath her.

Leave your window unlatched.

This wasn't the first time Julien had whispered similar words to her. And she feared tonight would be no different. For as surely as she had the first time, she'd unlatch the window and let him back into her life.

It took Maureen another hour and a half to convince Lady Mary to make their good-byes and leave the Weston ball. She had hoped to slip away without having to face the Lord Admiral, but as her luck would have it, he was waiting for them outside.

"Miss Fenwick,"
he said. "A word with you before you depart."

Lady Mary smiled bravely at Maureen, as if she wanted to protest the late hour to the man but didn't dare cross him. Instead, she allowed the recently hired footman to hand her into her rented carriage. The lady knew only too well that all her newfound luxury was due to the Lord Admiral's open purse strings.

The Lord Admiral took Maureen by the elbow and led her to his carriage. Maureen balked at getting in.

"What is this?" he asked. "Get in. I won't have my business bandied about the streets."

She didn't trust the man anymore, and she wasn't going to get into his carriage and allow him to spirit her off to who knew where. The streets around them were empty, for nearly all the guests were still dancing the evening away.