Once a Mistress (22 page)

Much later Alex led Diana back to the tavern. She entered his room first, finding the candles lit and the bed neatly made. Alex followed her in and latched the door behind him.

She glanced toward the window where she could see the full moon shining in the dark night sky. Regret squeezed her heart as she thought of their moonlit paradise by the pool. She sighed, not wanting the magic to end.

Alex snuffed a candle at the far side of the room, leaving the one beside the bed still lit. “What troubles you, Diana?”

“I did not want to leave the pool.” She gave him a sad smile. “‘Twas a beautiful place.”

“It was indeed.” He came to her and took her in his arms, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You were pleased to have the opportunity to bathe.”

“I was.” She shrugged. “Though many feel differently, I dislike being unclean. ‘Tis my Scots blood.”

“I, too, bathe often.” He grinned, his eyes taking on a wicked gleam. “Should you ever be in need of assistance, I would offer my services.”

“Why thank you, kind sir.” She traced a finger over his heart. “I will be sure to summon you when your ‘services’ are needed.”

“Mouthy wench.” He grinned and swatted her bottom, then turned to pull back the coverlet from the bed.

“Wench? Is that all I am, just another woman warming your bed?” She said the words teasingly, but realized that part of her was serious.

He paused in readying the bed and looked at her. “Is this about Rosana?” he asked quietly.

She shrugged. “I simply want to know my place in your life.”

Alex sighed. “I ended my association with Rosana as soon as we arrived,” he said.

“All right.” She longed to ask him if there were any other women, but decided to content herself with what he had revealed thus far. “How long will the repairs to the ship take?”

“Two days, perhaps three to lay in stores.” He sat on the edge of the bed and started to take off his boots.

“I want to go with you.”

He dropped the boot to the floor with a thud, then stared at her. “We discussed this. You are
not
going.”

“We did not ‘discuss’ this, captain.
You
issued an order.”

He removed his other boot. “Indeed I did. You will stay here, where it is safe.”

“Have I not proven my worth?” She propped her hands on her hips. “I am not helpless.”

“I said no.”

“But—”

“No!” he shouted. “Bloody hell, woman, are you deaf?”

She stiffened her spine. “I am not. Neither, I suspect, are the people in the taproom.”

“You are not going,” he said in a slow, deliberate tone. “My decision is final.”

“Why?”

“
I want you safe!”
He leaped to his feet and threw one boot across the room. It hit the door and fell to the floor. They both stared at it. Then they looked at each other. “Diana,” he said almost pleadingly, “I need to know that you are safe.”

“I am safe with you,” she answered quietly. “I can defend myself. Why won’t you relent? Let me come with you.”

“Because Marcus is a murderer, that’s why.” He sat on the bed again and stripped off his stockings. “I don’t want you within ten leagues of him.”

She heard something in his voice, something that sounded like fear. She grew curious. His reaction seemed too extreme for a mere rivalry between two pirates. “Alex, why do you hate Marcus so? It is more than competition, isn’t it?”

He paused in the act of removing his shirt, then pulled the garment over his head. Folding it with precise care, he laid it on the floor beside the bed.

“Alex?”

He looked at her. For a moment she saw a terrible pain in his eyes. Then he masked it. Very quietly, he said, “He murdered someone I loved.”

“A woman?” She held her breath as she awaited the answer.

‘No, my brother.” He stood and unbuttoned his breeches.

“Oh, Alex, I am so sorry.” She wanted to go to him, but something about the set of his shoulders warned her not to.

“‘Tis done.” He paused, breeches unfastened and put his hands on his hips. “But now you see why I cannot allow you near Marcus. If I am to do what I must, I
have
to know that you are safe, Diana.”

“But—”

“I no longer wish to speak of this.” He stripped off the breeches and placed them neatly with the rest of his clothing. “I suggest you ready yourself for bed.”

She longed to assuage his pain. Ignoring his naked body, she put her hands on her hips and raised her chin. “I would do that, captain,” she replied in a saucy tone, “had I any nightclothes. What do you suggest I wear?”

He slipped beneath the covers and settled himself against the pillows, hands folded behind his head. The haunted look left his eyes to be replaced by a wicked gleam. “What you always wear to bed with me, my sweet. Nothing.”

“Alex!”

He gave her a lusty grin. “Come, milady. Your stallion awaits.”

“You…you…” Her words stumbled to a halt, her cheeks reddening as she recalled their erotic encounter by the pool.

“What was that you were saying?” He threw back the bedclothes to reveal his readiness for her. “You—what? You rogue? You rake? You scoundrel?”

She tore her eyes away from his naked glory and met his gaze squarely. “Aye, all of those!”

“Indeed?” He leered and patted the bed next to him. “Come lie with me, my lovely, and I shall try to live up to your expectations.”

“Perhaps I am tired.” She feigned a yawn, all the while delighting in the excitement bubbling through her veins. He looked so dangerous, and so desirable, his bronzed, muscular body laid out against the snowy linens like a banquet for her to savor. She wanted nothing more than to feast on him, but she held back and let the anticipation grow.

“Come to me, Diana.” He paused. “Or shall I come and fetch you?”

He
would
come fetch her, she thought with a little thrill. With trembling fingers, she managed to unlace her gown and stepped out of it. She avoided looking at him as she slipped off her chemise and discarded her slippers. She approached the bed.

He closed strong, sun-browned hands around her waist and pulled her down on top of him.

“Alex!” Wriggling free, she scooted to her side of the bed.

“Aye, my love?”

She froze in the act of running a hand through her tangled hair. Love? Had he really called her that? She chanced a glance at him. He looked no different, certainly not like a man who had just made a declaration. Mayhap it had been a slip of the tongue. A meaningless endearment. Aye, that was it.

But as she gave herself up to his embrace, she couldn’t help but wish that his tongue would slip again. And mean it.

Chapter Fifteen

Alex blinked against the glare of the morning sun. He started to lift his arm to shade his eyes, but something warm and heavy pinned the limb to the bed. Memory rushed back as he looked down at Diana curled against his side, her coppery curls spilling over his chest. With a nostalgic grin, he fingered one of the silky locks and considered the events of the night before.

How could he have known that he would ever feel like this? Tenderness engulfed him as she shifted in her sleep, cuddling closer to him. She was so soft, so delicate, and yet that slender body housed a fiery temperament and a bottomless well of emotion that amazed him. He had never felt this way before.

Not even about Bianca.

He tried to recall Bianca’s face, and found he couldn’t. He remembered that she had been built much like Diana, but there the similarity between the two women ended. Bianca had thought him huge and terrifying, a rutting beast. She had hardly ever spoken to him above a whisper and almost never unless he spoke to her first. She had certainly never kicked him in the shin or brazenly offered herself to him. He realized with sudden hindsight that he and Bianca had been ill-suited.

A small amount of the guilt he had carried for so long shifted. They had been two completely different people, he mused, idly stroking a hand over Diana’s slim hip. He had always been a man of strong passions. Bianca had intended to enter a convent when her father signed the betrothal agreement.

This fact took on greater meaning as he considered it from a new perspective. Bianca had not been prepared for marriage, much less the marriage bed. She had been completely incapable of dealing with his strong sexual appetites. One night her fear had caused her to flee from him, and she had fallen down the stairs and broken her neck. He stared up at the ceiling and let out a slow breath. Bianca should have been allowed to give herself to the church. She had not been meant to be any man’s wife.

Mayhap her death had not entirely been his fault.

“Good morning.”

Diana’s soft voice broke into his thoughts, dispelling the ghosts of the past. He looked down into her face and stroked a thumb over her lips. “Good morning,
amada
.”
Beloved
, he echoed in his mind. He gazed at her so long that she flushed.

“Alex, cease your staring.” She pulled the covers to her chin.

“Very well.” He yanked the bedclothes from her hands and pulled her atop him. Her soft curves molded to his body and aroused him all over again. He took her mouth in a long, thorough kiss.

She was breathless when he finally released her.

“‘Tis indeed a pleasant morning,” he said. Then he slapped her bare buttocks. “Up with you, wench! We have much to do today.”

“‘Twas not I who started things,” she muttered, rubbing her abused posterior.

He laughed at her disgruntled tone and kissed her lips. “Fetch your clothes, my sweet.” He tumbled her from atop him and rose from the bed.

Diana stretched out on the mattress and surreptitiously eyed his naked body. Memories of their passion swept through her mind, and her cheeks heated as she remembered her own abandon. She was still not quite comfortable with this new aspect of her personality. She tore her gaze from him and glanced out the window. The sun shone brightly in a clear, blue sky.

“‘Tis a beautiful morning,” she said.

“Indeed. A fine morning.” Whistling, Alex did up the buttons of his breeches. “Come, you lazy wench. We have no time to lie abed all day.”

She sat up, pushing her hair out of her face. “And why is that?”

“We are going visiting this morning.”

“Who are we going to see?” She slid from the bed, very self-conscious of her nudity.

Grinning, he pulled on his shirt. “We are going to call on the countess. I always visit her when I am here.”

“Oh.” She bent and picked up the damaged yellow silk she had worn the day before. She had no wish to meet this mysterious countess, though she should probably be flattered that he deigned to introduce her. Fingering the torn and bloody sleeve, she said, “This seems the worse for wear.”

He frowned as he tucked the edges of a fresh black shirt into the waist of his breeches. “I suppose I shall have to find something. I can’t introduce you to M—the countess in blood-stained clothing.”

“I suppose not,” she echoed in a thin voice. She had noticed his slip of the tongue. What had he been about to call the countess? Obviously, he did not normally use her title. Perhaps they were on such intimate terms that she allowed him to use her given name.

Rosana’s accusations came back to her suddenly.
The whole island knows that
la patrona
is your true love, that someday you will return with a ship full of gold and marry her. Until then the rest of us are just bodies to warm your bed.

Was it true? She looked out the window again, her heart heavy. If Rosana was to be believed, then Diana was about to meet the woman who held the key to Alex’s heart. Was the countess truly the woman Alex loved, or was this merely another figment of Rosana’s jealousy?

She would soon find out.

An hour later, Alex escorted her to the door of the huge manor house.

“Are you certain I am presentable?” Diana asked for the third time.

“You look beautiful.” Alex gave her an approving look.

Diana glanced down at the outfit he had bought for her, a dark brown skirt and a new chemise, with a stomacher that was more laces than material. It was a more provocative outfit than she was used to wearing, but it was the standard costume for the women of the island. She had tied her hair back with ribbons, in an attempt to attain a modest effect that was absent from most of the village wenches.

“I feel strange in these clothes, though I admit they are cooler than what I would normally wear.”

“Indeed they are.” After rapping the heavy brass knocker against the door, he turned and raised her hand to his lips. “They are also easier to get off you.”

“Alex, stop.” She snatched her hand away, her body warming at the lusty look in his eyes.

“But, darling, I thought you enjoyed my kisses,” he teased.

“I am sure she does.”

Both of them turned at the sound of the voice. While they had been talking, the door had been opened by a woman of such beauty that it sent a sharp stab of jealousy through Diana’s heart. Though she didn’t want to believe Rosana’s words, she could easily see how Alex might love this woman.

She was older than Diana had expected. Strands of silver shot through her luxurious midnight-black hair, but few lines marred her porcelain-like skin. Clad in black satin, she possessed the rounded curves and trim waist of a much younger woman.

Diana disliked her on sight, despite her better sense.

Alex smiled. “What are you doing opening your own door?” he teased with a tender note in his voice. “Do you not have servants for that very purpose?”

“I do.” Her dark gaze settled on him with distinct disapproval. “But I wanted to greet you myself, Alejandro. We have much to discuss.”

Diana wondered at her tone. Was she displeased that Alex had brought another woman to her home? And why did the countess wear black in this heat? Was she in mourning, and if so, for whom? Her husband perhaps? Was it only the mourning period that kept the countess and Alex apart?

“Indeed, we have much to talk about,” Alex said, apparently undisturbed by the countess’s tone. He pulled Diana forward. “Diana, I am pleased to present to you Lady Miranda Rawnsley de Besosa, Countess of Rothstone. My lady, may I present Mistress Diana Covington of Jamaica?”