Once a Mistress (16 page)

“
I
would know.” He turned and took her upper arms in his hands, pulling her against him. She closed her eyes at the pleasure of being in his embrace. Nuzzling against his chest, she enjoyed the way his sandalwood scent sparked her senses and sent them reeling.

“Diana.” His voice sounded hoarse. With a deliberate motion, he set her away from him. “I cannot do this.”

She made a little sound of protest as she was denied the warmth of his body. “Alex, please.”

He backed away. “I cannot. There are things you don’t understand, Diana. And I do not want to hurt you.”

“You hurt me now,” she said. She took a deep breath to hold back the tears that threatened. She would
not
cry in front of him, she vowed silently.

“I would hurt you even more, perhaps beyond repair, if I were to give in to what I want.” He sighed and reached back for the door latch. “It’s better this way.”

She shrugged. “As you wish, captain. I am but your prisoner and have no say in anything.”

He scowled. “Diana…”

“Go.”

“If I could,” he said, his voice taut with his own need, “I would take you to bed and never let you go.”

“You can,” she retorted. Still fighting the tears, she tilted her chin. “I simply did not realize, captain, that you are more a prisoner than I.”

“As I told you, we are all prisoners.”

“Some of us of our own making,” she snapped. “Now please leave, sir. I grow weary.”

“As you wish.” He opened the door and paused to look back at her. “But just so you know…I do find you very desirable.”

He left, closing the door behind him. She took another deep breath, successfully holding tears at bay. “I believe you, Alex,” she said to the empty room. “But there is obviously something you desire even more.”

Chapter Eleven

Night approached with a speed that made Alex want to shake a fist at the setting sun. He had spent the day on deck, barking orders to his men in a voice that made all but McBride give him wide berth. He oversaw the repairs and brooded, watching with a frown as the sun had sunk lower and lower in the sky. Each hour had brought him closer to the night…and the thought of Diana sleeping in his bed.

Despite his will, night indeed fell, and he went below decks with a scowl on his face. He stalked down the companionway in the direction of Birk’s cabin, but found himself passing the physician’s door and stopping outside his own.

Damn her. He laid a clenched fist on the door, tempted to knock, then slowly flattened his hand against the portal.
 

Only this morning it had seemed so easy, he thought. As long as duty alone brought Diana to his bed, he could consider her the same as Bianca and resist without difficulty. But there was little defense against her honesty, and this afternoon her innocent candor had shaken his resolve more than her ballroom airs ever could have.

With effort, he turned away and backtracked to Birk’s cabin. He pounded on the door with enough force to rattle the hinges. Birk opened the door, saw Alex and scowled.

“Ye have no the sense God gave a goat,” he declared.
 

“Just let me in.”

Birk moved so that Alex could enter. “If ye prefer the hard floor o’ ma cabin tae the soft flesh o’ thon lassie, then I’ll wash ma hands o’ ye.”

Alex ignored him. “Have you a bottle of something around here?”

“Och, mind who ye’re talkin’ tae.” Birk fetched a bottle of whiskey and handed it to him. “She has ye in a swither right enough. What’s the lassie done now?”

Alex popped the cork and took a swig right from the bottle. The whiskey slid down his throat with fiery smoothness. He closed his eyes and waited for the liquor to soothe his savage emotions. It didn’t work.

Birk took the bottle from his hand. Opening his eyes, he glared. Birk shook his head. “Ye’ll nae be gettin’ this back ‘til ye’ve telt me the whole o’ it.”

“You are far too hairy to be my mother, Birk. Now give me the damned bottle.”

“Ye’ll no waste ma best whiskey on yer demons, Alex.” The physician settled into the only chair in the room, placing the bottle on the tiny table and keeping his hand on it. “What did the lassie do tae get ye all conflumoxed?”

“I am
not
conflumoxed.”

“Ye are that.”

“I am not!” Alex roared. “I know exactly what is bothering me.”

“As do I.” Birk reached for the bottle and took a drink. “Do yerself a favor, man. Take the woman tae yer bed, and tae wife as well, if ye’ve a brain in that empty head o’ yours.”

“She offered herself to me.”

Birk stopped with the bottle halfway to his lips, then shrugged and took another swig. “Ye telt me that already.”

“No, not then. A while ago.” Alex closed his eyes as his tumultuous emotions threatened to explode. “She offered herself, no artifice, no games. She wants me, God damn it!”

“Sweet Mary and all the blessed saints.” Birk shook his head. “Alex, ye’re the only man I ken that would see such a thing as a trouble and no a pleasure.”

“You know my reasons.” Alex shook his head. “As long as she acted like Bianca…as long as duty was all that brought her to me…” He stopped and took a long, shuddering breath. “She is so bloody honest, Birk. She hides nothing. I can see the passion in her eyes.”

Birk snorted. “I could have telt ye long ago that thon lassie wasna a bit like yer wife. Bianca wanted tae give herself tae the kirk, but her family made her give herself tae you instead. She didna want a man in her bed.” He grinned and pointed a finger. “That one, now. She can match ye, in bed and out.”

“You think I don’t see that?” Alex paced the room. “But there are other reasons. She is a virgin, Birk. I cannot take from her something that should go to her husband. Her reputation would be ruined.”

The Scotsman laughed. “Her reputation is already soiled, Alex. The first hour she spent on Marcus’s ship saw tae that. It disna matter that the lassie is yet a maid. Her people will consider her damaged goods and wed her tae the richest lecher they can find. Either that, or some horny knave will take her as mistress.”
 

Alex stopped pacing. “Her father would protect her.”

“Aye, certes. But ye forget about Chilton. That bastard wants her for himself. I’d wager ma best whiskey that he’ll be spreadin’ tales o’ her abduction with an eye to bein’ the only man willin’ tae wed her after all is said and done.”

“Chilton will never wed her,” Alex said with a smile of satisfaction. “He will hang with Marcus.”

“Aye, but he disna ken that. He thinks he’s got Covington right where he wants him. And mebbe he does.”

His smile faded. “Damn. I had not considered that.”

“Ye’d be doin the lass a favor,” Birk continued. “The man that weds her willna ken that she’s a virgin still. Aye, the blackguard might hurt her for certain.”

“You paint a bleak picture, my friend.”

“You have the power tae change the woman’s future, Alex. Bed her now, then wed her later.”

“You know it’s more complicated than that.” He shook his head slowly, still amazed by the emotions the woman had engendered in him. “She trusts me, Birk. What other woman would have the courage to approach a man like El Moreno and offer herself with such sweet simplicity?”

“She’s a Scot,” Birk announced with pride in his voice.

“Aye.” He began pacing again. “As long as she played the coquette and tried to manipulate me, I could see her as a child. But her honesty undoes me. I want to bed her, true. But there is more to it than that. I like her, Birk.”

Birk held out the bottle. “Then drink up, man, and celebrate.”

Alex took the bottle. “Celebrate what?”

“Yer resurrection.”

Alex arched a brow. “I do not recall having died, my friend.”

“Yer body didna pass on, only the soul o’ the man I kent afore Marcus killed yer brother. Revenge had bled the life from ye, Alex. I was wonderin’ if ye felt anything anymore.”

“I feel plenty.”

“Aye, and glad I am tae see it.” Birk motioned with his hand. “Are ye goin’ tae drink or no?”

Alex drank. “I have always had feelings,” he said after swallowing.

“Aye. Anger. Frustration. But ne’er anything softer. The lassie is good for ye, Alex.”

“I feel anger and frustration with her, too, Birk,” Alex said, amused. “A more exasperating woman I have never met.”

“Aye, she’s a hot-tempered morsel. But she’s a fine match for ye. I say wed her, bed her and beget a dozen bairns…no necessarily in that order, mind ye.” Birk toasted him with the bottle and tossed back a healthy draught.

Alex entertained Birk’s suggestion for a moment. To his surprise, the prospect of wedding Diana did not seem as distasteful as before. But there was yet an obstacle between them.

“What of her father, Birk?” He watched the jocularity leave the Scotsman’s expression. “You know as well as I that Covington could be involved with Marcus. If he is, he must pay for his crimes. And I will have been the one to bring him to justice.”

“Aye, it’s a fair coil. Perhaps the lassie has the right of it, and her father isna involved. Mebbe he’s a victim as well.”

“It matters not,” Alex said with a sigh. “You know as well as I, Birk, that ‘tis Morgan’s decision on who will live and who will die. Even if I were to attempt to help her father, I cannot guarantee Morgan’s word. I don’t want to make promises I cannot keep.”

“Talk tae her,” Birk urged. “I think the two o’ ye can come tae an agreement.”

“But—”

Birk rose from his chair. “Go! Out wi’ ye.” He shoved Alex toward the door with his free hand. “Take the woman tae bed, afore yer black humor causes a mutiny.”

Alex opened his mouth to protest, but Birk gave him another hard shove between the shoulder blades.

“Out! And if that woman is still a virgin in the mornin, then I give up on ye. Ye can blast yerself tae Hell in pursuit o’ Marcus, and I winna stop ye.”

Alex paused on the threshold, despite Birk’s attempts to force him through the doorway. “I don’t know if I should do this.”

“Stop thinkin’ so much, and start feelin. Yer instincts winna fail ye.” With a mighty shove, Birk sent Alex stumbling into the hall.

“Birk—”

The door slammed in his face. Alex stood looking at the portal for a long moment. Then he glanced at his own door down the hall.
Wed her, bed her and beget a dozen bairns.
At the moment, Birk’s advice didn’t seem so farfetched.

Birk’s words had also shed new light on the matter of her reputation. She was already ruined, and once returned to her family, she would no doubt be sold off to the highest bidder. Either that, or forced to live as a spinster in her father’s house for the rest of her life.

Slowly, he started down the hall to his cabin.

Wed her, bed her and beget a dozen bairns…

He hesitated at the door, but then pushed it open and slipped into the darkened room. The lantern that hung in the hall cast enough light that he could make out Diana’s sleeping form in his bed. His blood surged as he noticed the way her hair spilled across his pillows like a fiery waterfall. He imagined how it would feel against his skin. Desire made his hands shake as he closed the door.

With the ease of long practice he made his way to the desk, found the tinderbox and lit the candle there. The flame flickered to life, casting a soft glow about the room. He took a moment to pull off his boots and stockings. Barefoot, he moved to the side of the bed and looked down on her.

She looked like a child, peaceful and serene in sleep. But he knew well that she was no child. She had proven herself all woman when she had so eloquently admitted her feelings. She wanted him. Simple. To the point. No games, no duty. Just a man and a woman and a mutual need.

He sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he stroked the back of his fingers over her cheek. It never ceased to amaze him how soft and unblemished her skin was. So many women had pockmarks or poor complexion from too much powder and rouge. Not so Diana. Her flesh glowed with youth and vitality.

Her lashes fluttered. He watched her eyes slowly open and focus on him. Smiling, he traced one finger over her lower lip. The sleepiness in her eyes faded to be replaced by awareness.

“Diana.” Just her name. One word. But it was enough. She took his hand in hers and kissed it, then nuzzled her cheek against his palm. His breath caught at the naturally affectionate gesture.

“We have to talk,” he said softly. She nodded and sat up in bed, revealing that she still slept in his robe. As she raised her arm to push her hair out of her face, one pale breast peeked out, then retreated when she lowered her arm. He clutched the coverlet to keep from reaching for her.

“What did you want to talk about?” The huskiness of her voice sent his pulse pounding. She licked her dry lips, and he almost lost control right then and there.
 

“You are so bloody beautiful.” Unable to resist, he took a handful of her hair and fingered the silken locks.

Her eyes widened, then grew smoky with passion. He couldn’t resist. Cupping his hand around the back of her head, he pulled her close.

“One taste,” he murmured against her lips. He kissed her gently, loving the way her inexperienced mouth trembled against his. Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed, the hand behind her head stroking her hair.

“Alex.” Her breath grazed his lips. He opened his eyes and looked into hers, only two inches away. The pure need in her gaze swept away the last of his resolve.

“This is about us,” he said, moving to kiss her cheek. “Nothing else.”

“Yes.” She tilted her head to give him better access.

“I will try to help your father,” he continued, gliding his lips over her jawbone to her neck. “But I can promise nothing.”

“All right.”

“I mean that.” He raised his head to look her in the eye. “If your father is guilty, he hangs. If he is innocent, I will do my best to see that he is proven so.”

“Thank you.” With a sweet smile, she took his face in her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He made a sound in the back of his throat as her innocent touch set his blood aflame. “Do you know what you are doing?” he asked hoarsely. “You are chancing your future for this.”