Master of Seduction (9 page)

“And to quote.”

“Exactly.”

Fascinated by his ability to recall quotes so accurately and his great passion for literary classics, she couldn’t understand his view on love. “How is it a man who reads so can also denounce love so vehemently? Most of the greatest works produced are based on love.”

He lightly cleared his throat. “There is an old French proverb that sums my view up nicely. Love makes time pass; time makes love pass.”

She took a deep breath and shook her head at him. “You are a true cynic.”

“And you are a romantic dreamer,” he countered. “Tell me, Lorelei. Tell me of your deepest, darkest secret. What passion burns inside such a romantic soul? What is the one wish you hold above all others?”

The answer was a simple one, but not one she was sure she should share with him. It was a dream that had brought her enough grief from her father and Justin, who thought it a great waste of time. Only her grandmother had ever encouraged her, and even she only grudgingly.

Still, it might give her a bit of temperance to add his sneering comments to the others she’d endured. After all, did she truly care what the pirate thought of her? So what if he mocked her as they did? She would be away from
him
soon enough.

“If I answer, will you do the same?”

He nodded.

Reconciling herself to his inevitable response, she spoke, “My one secret is that I should like to be a great artist.”

“Really?” he asked. “I can just imagine you covered with paint as you get that little look on your face while you try to capture a scene.”

“What look?”

“That little scrunchy thing you do with your face.”

“Scrunchy thing?”

He nodded. “You’re doing it now, in fact. Your brows are slightly creased and your eyes slightly narrowed as you try to delve into something’s source.”

She blinked several times to dispel whatever look he referred to. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“’Tis a pity then, it’s a wonderful look for you.”

In spite of herself, his compliment warmed her.

“And what does Justin think about your desire to be an artist?”

She looked down at her plate, too embarrassed and hurt to answer.

“Come now, Lorelei. Be honest with me.”

Refusing to look up, she pushed the sweetened broccoli around on her plate. “Why should I answer when I know you’ll just mock me?”

“So, he thinks it a foolish endeavor.”

She swallowed the lump of sadness in her throat and rose to Justin’s defense. “He’s actually quite right. Once we marry, I shan’t have time for such trivialities.”

“And why is that?”

“I’ll have to supervise the household and tend our children.”

“While Justin pursues his military career.”

“Yes.”

“’Tis a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

“It’s the way of the world,” she said, even though deep inside she’d always resented that fact. ’Twas the very thing that had driven her grandmother to take to the sea as a young woman. But Lorelei had promised her grandmother years ago that she wouldn’t try and fight the way things were. She would merely accept the world and abide by all its unfair dictates.

Reconciled to it, she looked up at Jack. “Now for you. What is your greatest passion?”

“Killing people.”

Her heart stopped. Was that the truth? She wasn’t sure, and his face and body gave nothing away. “I don’t believe you,” she said in an effort to test her theory.

“Don’t you? I am a pirate, after all.”

“Yes, you are. But you’re not like other pirates.”

“How are you so sure?”

“You travel with your son and you allow your crew to keep their wives with them. Why is that?”

“Because life is too short and we could die at any minute. The last thing I want is for my men to die alone.”

“And what about you?”

“I am alone.”

“Wouldn’t you like to change that?”

“Hardly. I’m quite content with my life.”

“Are you?” she asked quietly.

“Truly ecstatic.”

Sensing his closure, she finished the meal in silence.

Once they had both finished, he stood and pulled her to her feet. Jack led her to the windows that looked out on a quiet, tranquil sea. The music from the deck continued to fill the air with its sultry tone as a gentle breeze rippled around her. “Where does the music come from?” she asked.

“My crew,” he said. “They play every night around sunset.”

Jack leaned back against the support beam next to the window so that he could watch her. Trying to ignore how nice he looked there, Lorelei forced her gaze to remain on the ocean.

“It’s very beautiful, isn’t it?” she asked.

“Very.”

She was aware of every aspect of him. His long legs were stretched out before him, and she admired the way his breeches hugged his lean, muscular thighs and the fact that his coat only emphasized the breadth of his shoulders.

His gaze on her face felt like a tangible touch. Her heart raced. There were so many things about him she liked. And so many more she wished she knew.

The longer the silence stretched, the more nervous she became. She glanced at him and heat stole across her cheeks. She tried to focus her attention on the dark sea, but a few seconds later, she looked back at him to find his gaze had not wavered from her.

“What?” she asked in an effort to dispel her discomfort. “Have I grown a new head?”

He pushed himself away from the window and moved to stand behind her. Still, he said nothing.

Lorelei bit her lip in uncertainty as she felt the heat of his body reach out to her. Something sizzled between them, catching her off guard with its warmth.

“Tell me, Lorelei,” he said at last. “Have you ever had a man kiss you here?” He touched the tender part of her neck just below her ears where she’d pulled her hair up into a cascade of curls.

“That is very forward of you,” she said primly.

His fingers stroked her skin, sending a slow burn through her body. “Yes, it is. Have you?”

From the inside out, she ached for his touch, and yet she knew she should rebuff him. “No.”

“Pity. It’s terribly pleasurable. May I?”

“Never.”

Move away
! And yet she couldn’t get her body to obey. All she could do was stand there, feeling his flesh against hers. Feeling the gentle caress of his breath against her neck and wishing for things she knew she had no right to want.

He took a step closer. Even though he touched her with nothing more than one hand, she felt surrounded by him. Consumed by him. “One day you’ll beg me to kiss you there.”

Gathering the tangled, fleeing shreds of her sense, she said, “One day the world shall end and I dare say that day will come long before I ever allow you to kiss me there.”

“And what about your lips?” he asked, touching her there. Her legs turned to jelly as her mind begged for him to kiss her. “Could I kiss those?”

“You already have.”

“And you liked it.”

“I deplored it,” she said, her voice breathless.

“Should we have another go at it to make sure?”

Before she could step back, he kissed her. Her head swam at the contact as her body sang in response to the fulfillment of her longing. She tasted the sweet wine on his lips as he invaded her senses and sent her reeling with desire.

Oh, it would be so easy to give into this man. To let him have his way with her. And yet it would be wrong. Not just because she was promised to Justin, but because she meant nothing to the pirate captain.

To him she was an object of vengeance. A pawn for his own satisfaction, and no matter how good he felt in her arms, or how treacherous her body, she refused to allow him to use her as if she were nothing more than a simple tool to help him complete a task.

She was a human being with feelings and emotions, not a lapdog to fetch at his command. Regaining herself, she pushed him back.

He looked down at her, and she saw the triumph shimmering in the steely depths of his eyes.

“You’re not going to seduce me, Captain Rhys.”

He smiled. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much.”

“And methinks the pirate doth insist too much.” She forced him to release her. Lorelei straightened her dress and patted the loose tendrils of her hair back into place. “Have you never failed?”

“Never,” he said, as he brushed the sleeve of his jacket.

She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to straighten out her coiffure. Tilting her head, she brushed the curls away from her neck. “You really are incorrigible.”

When she looked back at him, the captain’s eyes held her prisoner. Unbridled lust glowed deep and he stared at her like a starving man before a banquet table.

“You had best leave.”

She frowned.

“Leave, Lorelei, now while I can let you go. If you stay, I won’t be held accountable for what happens.”

Deciding it would be best to heed his warning, Lorelei quickly left the room and dashed back to her cabin.

She locked the door behind her and drew deep breaths to calm her racing heart. What had happened?

He’d been fine while he brushed at his sleeve and then he’d…

Men, they were indeed a strange, unfathomable lot.

But worse than his actions and words was the undeniable fact that she was terribly attracted to him.

There was something about the pirate that called out to her. It lured a primitive part of her body that she couldn’t control, and that frightened her.

How long could she keep him at bay when he assailed her defenses at every turn?

And in truth, she liked battling with him. She found his views intriguing.

And his touch, delightful.

“Think of Justin,” she whispered to herself as she summoned a mental picture of him in his uniform.

He was handsome and strong.

Just not quite as handsome as the pirate.

“Justin is safe.”

But he wasn’t exciting. He had never made her pulse beat like this, nor did he stir her body into flames by merely walking into a room.

“Stop it,” she demanded, covering her eyes to banish the image of the pirate in his dashing black cutaway.

Beware the man who beguiles you, Lori-Angel
, she heard her grandmother’s voice in her head.
Those are the ones who won’t commit to you. Oh, they’ll show you wonders, to be sure, and they’ll spin your head with their pleasurable ways. But in the end, they always leave you and your broken heart far behind. Believe me, ’tis better to have the simple hound than to follow the fox. Though the fox is fairer to behold, the hound knows where his home is and dutifully he stays, while the handsome fox is ever off to find new game
.

The pirate was definitely a fox. One that had told her exactly how happy he was with his life.

She would just avoid him. That was all there was to it. Forget her boasts and wager. She didn’t want to even try to win. She just wanted Justin to come and free her from this confusion.

Admit it, old girl, what you really want is another moment of your pirate’s kisses
.

Lorelei closed her eyes in an effort to banish the truth. Well, she was certainly old enough for her wants not to hurt her. And Jack Rhys could find himself another pawn. This one was quitting the game.

L
orelei woke early to the sound of someone knocking rather forcefully upon her door. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she picked up the warm pink velvet wrap from the foot of her bed. Shrugging it on and then belting it, she crossed the room to crack open the door ever so slightly so that she could see who was disturbing her.

“Sorry to bother you, miss,” an older sailor said. He had balding red hair and a leathery face that bore the marks of years of squinting against an unforgiving sun. “We was ordered to bring these things to you first thing like.”

She frowned at the wooden crate in his hands and then her gaze drifted to the other five sailors standing behind him who held various items as well. The boxes appeared to contain art supplies, but how could that be?

“We won’t be bothering you none. We’ll just put them down and be on our way.”

Embarrassed that her suspicion over their motives was so plain on her face, Lorelei stepped back and allowed them to bring in their wares. As the fifth man walked past, she noted the easel under his arm.

“Where did all this come from?” she asked, amazed at the variety and multitude of supplies as the first man placed his crate on the floor beside her bed.

Why, she didn’t have this much in art supplies at her father’s house!

“Henri paints,” the older sailor said, indicating the younger pirate behind him who was busy setting up the easel.

The man he referred to looked up and smiled. He was a handsome man around her own age with laughing blue eyes which twinkled from beneath the overhang of jet-black bangs. His long black hair fell to mid-shoulder and he wore a thick, well-kept beard. “
Oui, mademoiselle
, the captain, he asked me if I had any canvas or paints to spare, and I told him that there is always plenty to share with a fellow
artiste
. ’Tis simply my greatest joy that you have all that you need.”

“
Merci beaucoup
, Henri,” she said, even though the words were quite inadequate for the gratitude she truly felt. “It was so kind of you to bring all of your supplies to me.”

“Ah,
non, non, mademoiselle
,” he said as three of the sailors left the room. “I assure you this is not all that I have. This is but a bit I had laying around on the third deck.”

“And thank God he found some place to finally put it,” the fourth sailor said irritably on his way out the door. He was around Henri’s age, but with thick brown hair and a permanent frown. “I’m sick of tripping over the blamed stuff. Thought I was going to have to kill him to have any peace.”

Henri snorted and waved his hand at the pirate who continued on his way. “Pay him no heed. Bart is a…a surly fellow who is never happy unless he has something about which to complain. Me, I like everything.” He tapped the center of his chest. “I am a true
artiste
, not just a boat-rat.”

Bart stuck his head back in the door. “I heard that, you frog.”

Henri stiffened and eyed Bart like he was some disgusting blemish marring his boots. “Smile when you say that or I shall be forced to show you some manners.”

Bart scoffed. “I don’t need you to show me your girlie ways, Hank. And you’d best be getting out of here before the captain catches you eyeing his woman. Remember what he did to that fellow in Greece? I bet they still haven’t found all that man’s parts.”

Henri paled.

“What did he do?” Lorelei asked, wanting desperately to know.

Henri licked his lips, his brows drawn into a stern vee. “It is not the type of thing one discusses with ladies. The captain, he is not always understanding and Bart is quite right. I should be going.”

He moved to the door where Bart waited. “
Bonjour, mademoiselle
, should you need any more supplies, please do not hesitate to let me know.” Henri turned on his heel and let Bart away from her room.

“
Please
,” Bart mocked in a horrible rendition of Henri’s French accent as they headed for the ladder, “
do not hesitate to let me know
. Lord, Hank, but you’re ridiculous with that stuff. ’Tis a wonder you didn’t drown her with your drool.”

“As if you know any better. Tossing a woman over your shoulder and carrying her to an inn is not the way you treat a woman of breeding.”

“Well, I don’t know no women of breeding.”

“And I am sure ladies the world over are now breathing a collective sigh of relief.”

Laughing at their banter, Lorelei closed her door, then moved to examine the contents of the crates. There were brushes and paints, jars and charcoal, sketch pads, conti, turpentine—everything she could possibly need.

Without a doubt, it was the greatest gift she’d ever received. She knew the pirate king had done it simply to endear himself to her, but even so, it touched her.

You really should thank him
.

It would be the polite thing to do, she assured herself. Even a scoundrel deserved thanks for a good deed.

Hurriedly, she shed her wrap and nightgown and chose a light yellow day gown. Once dressed, she pulled her hair back into a tight braid and tied it off with a yellow ribbon, then headed out of her room to the captain’s cabin.

She knocked once on the door. At his answer, she opened the door and stepped into his room.

Lorelei hesitated at the mouth of the lion’s den. She hadn’t given much thought as to what his room would look like, but never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined this.

All four walls were lined top to bottom with bookshelves, which were brimming with books. Numerous leather-bound tomes were also spread haphazardly about the room. Three stacks of books were on his desk. Four opened books lay on a chest by his bed, and several crates that held even more books were littered about.

Sunlight poured into the room from open windows that allowed a pleasant breeze to circulate. The wood of his cabin was stained much darker than the light oak of her own room.

She could only see Jack’s long legs, as he was lying in the center of a large four-poster bed which was covered with a rich red velvet spread embroidered with gold leaves and acorns. Thick matching drapes hung from the canopy, obscuring the upper half of his body from her.

There was also a large cherry table to her left and a plush stuffed chair set before it. The room looked more like someone’s library than a captain’s quarters.

Lorelei took a step further into the room so she could see the pirate’s face. He was lying on his side, reading a book. His white, loose-fitting shirt was unlaced and hanging open to show a bounty of tanned, well-muscled chest. It was the most casual, natural pose she’d ever seen him assume.

But what held her attention most was the small pair of reading glasses he wore.

The incongruity of it stunned her.

He looked up at her. A warm, welcoming smile curved his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he asked, removing the glasses. His hands looked so large compared to the dainty glasses as he carefully folded them up and placed them on the chest beside his bed.

His gaze swept the mattress in front of him. “You haven’t decided to yield victory so soon, have you?”

Resisting the sudden urge to flee, she said simply, “I merely came to thank you.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning his head slightly back. “Henri must have delivered his treasure.” He picked up a small fob watch which was lying beside his book and checked the time. He set it aside and quirked his lips. “I’m surprised he waited so long. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him happier than when I told him we had someone on board who shared his love of painting.”

“It is surprising.”

“What? That a pirate can appreciate art?”

“Yes.”

“Well,” he said cooly. “I’ll certainly credit you with honesty on the matter. You didn’t even blush.”

His statement confused her. “I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t judge people, Lorelei,” he said in the same deliberate voice her father used to censure her behavior.

How she hated that patronizing tone, especially coming from a man like him. “But you
are
pirates. All of you.”

“We are people first. Pirate is merely one small facet of who and what we are.” He closed his book and eyed her for a minute. “Let me ask you a question, Lorelei. Who do you think farmers fear most? A pirate or a banker?”

What a ridiculous question. “A pirate, of course.”

“Nay,” he said solemnly. “A pirate never foreclosed a farm, nor has one ever repossessed someone’s belongings simply because their crops failed. If you were to ask a farmer who makes his blood run cold, he would tell you ’tis the banker he fears.”

The insult he gave stung her deeply. “Do not liken my father to a pirate or a bandit. He is a good man.”

“You say that only because you know your father as a man and not as a banker. I assure you, he has plenty of clients who would say otherwise. Indeed, the night of your party I heard a group of men describing him as a heartless beast who never had an ounce of compassion for anyone.”

Narrowing her eyes, she saw red. How dare anyone say such about the man who’d loved her all her life? Her father was a wonderful man. Kind, gentle, and generous to a fault. “Anyone who would say such a thing knows nothing of my father.”

“True. They only know of a banker named Sir Charles Dupree.”

She opened her mouth to retort, but could think of nothing to say.

Glancing to the floor, she considered his words. He was right. She’d heard those rumors of her father all her life, and she’d always discounted them. Through the eyes of a loving daughter, she saw her father as a shrewd businessman, but perhaps those who dealt with him on a daily basis saw him as something else.

Yet why did it bother the pirate so much that she judged people? “What makes you care so?”

“I have seen the consequences of judging people based on a handful of facts and a moment’s worth of observations. It strips them of their dignity.”

She found him perplexing. “You’ve used such judgmental terms yourself. You called your own mother a prostitute.”

“Aye,” he said. “As I said, I’ve seen the consequences.”

His double standard still baffled her. “Why do you care whether or not I judge people?”

“Because you’re special, Lorelei Dupree.” His answer stunned her. “You’re not like other people and it pains me to see you do something so common when I know there’s much more to you than that.”

“How do you know?”

“I see it every time I look at you. You have a passion for life that burns so bright it almost singes me to be near it. Every time I see you suppress that fire it pains me.” His gaze captivated hers. “I don’t want anything to extinguish that fire.”

“Is that why you sent the paints?” she asked quietly.

“Aye, I want to see you capture that passion on canvas.”

“What if I can’t?”

“You can. I’ve no doubt about it.”

No one had ever said such to her before, nor had they ever encouraged her to do something she wanted to do. Her father and Justin had often indulged her, but never had they offered such support.

To think, when it finally came, it came from Black Jack Rhys. Pirate, rake, and…

She didn’t want to finish that thought. The direction of her thoughts, along with the strange tenderness in her heart for him, was not something she wished to examine.

“All right, then,” she said, deciding not to waste this opportunity. If he wanted her to paint, then she would definitely oblige him. “I’ll just need some fruit and an ornate vase or some sort of container, then—”

“Fruit?” he asked with a sneer. “You want to paint fruit?”

Why did he look so disgusted by her subject matter? Was there something about fruit he found distasteful? “It’s what I always paint.”

He hung his head. “Why does that surprise me?” he muttered under his breath as if exasperated with her. He looked back at her. Louder, he asked, “Did Michelangelo paint fruit?”

Warning bells sounded inside her. Jack was about to propose something to her. Something she would probably object to.

She knew it deep inside.

“He might have,” she hedged.

A wicked, mischievous light shone in his eyes and she knew enough about the pirate to take a step back.

“Come now,” he beckoned in a seductive half-whisper. “Don’t tell me you’ve never wanted to paint
forbidden
fruit.”

She swallowed in trepidation. Surely he wasn’t proposing what she assumed he was proposing.

In spite of herself, her gaze dipped to the exposed flesh of his chest as an image of the statue David flashed before her eyes.

Heat stung her cheeks. Surely not even
he
would suggest she sketch him…sketch him…like that!

“Forbidden fruit?” she asked with a squeak.

By the light in his eyes she could see he was leaving her dangling intentionally. Oh, how the man loved to toy with her, and how she hated that she rose so often to his bait.

Just when she was sure her face could get no redder, he spoke, “Haven’t you ever wanted to paint…people?”

Just as she suspected. Oh, he was clever. But if he thought for one instant that she was going to paint him in the altogether, then he was altogether wrong.

“I like fruit,” she said crisply.

“Yes, but fruit is so very boring.”

“Not really. It’s actually rather fascinating.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “What about fruit could honestly be fascinating?”

Well, he had her there. In truth, there was very little about fruit that she found interesting. But there was one thing about it—fruit was
never
dangerous. Nor threatening.

Come on, Lorelei, think of something or else he’ll know you lie
.

“The way light plays on it,” she said at last, pleased with herself for finding an excuse.

Doubt was etched into his face. “And to think I actually assumed you were made of
braver
stuff.”

Never let a man see your fear. They can sense it and they use it to control you
. The words rang in her head. She had to do something to show him he didn’t scare her.