The Perfect Wife (9 page)

She squirmed uncomfortably. “You make it sound very unfair and quite selfish.”

“Isn’t it?” He raised an innocent brow.

“Hardly.” Sabrina forced herself to remain calm. “I merely want to ensure my financial security.”

“You mean in the event I turn out to be a scoundrel and a gambler, as well as a rake?” His eyes gleamed in the lantern light. “It is hardly a flattering portrait.”

Heat flushed Sabrina’s face. “It was not meant as a personal affront.”

“Nonetheless, when one’s bride admits to requiring safeguards against the possible flaws of a new husband, one cannot help but wonder what their future holds.” He paused for a long moment and added thoughtfully, “Or what occurred in the past.”

She threw him a sharp glare. Absolutely no one knew how little money Jack had left her, and Sabrina wanted to be certain no one ever would. As many faults as Jack had, indiscretion when it came to his financial instability was not among them. She’d worked hard to quietly pay off all his creditors and make good his debts.

“And the next term?” she asked, her voice cool, hoping to steer him away from the question of finances.

“Ah, that one is intriguing. That is the business ventures condition.”

“Yes?”

“I have mulled it over in my mind, trying to ascertain just what kind of business a reputable woman such as yourself might be engaged in. I have come up with a number of amusing, although highly unlikely possibilities. I suspect it would not be beneficial to our future relationship to reveal them now.” He tossed her a boyish grin and she stifled a childish urge to stick out her tongue.

“Do go on.”

“I have reached the inevitable conclusion that the first so-called business venture you, or rather I suppose I should say
we
, are involved in must have something to do with this jaunt to Egypt.” He paused. “We are headed to Egypt, are we not?”

She nodded. It was only her own irritation that had kept her from telling him their destination in the first place. She realized as soon as they boarded the ship that he would discover where they were going. His knowledge came as no surprise.

“Now, I said to myself,” he mused, gazing upward, “why would someone like the lovely Lady Stanford travel to Egypt? Alone. Suddenly and without notice. Why would she refuse to tell anyone, including her own child, where she was going and why?” He caught her gaze with his. “It is indeed mysterious.”

“And did you solve this mystery?”

Nicholas studied her face intently. “Not yet. I shall, you know. At some point. Unless you choose to reveal the answer to me first. After all,” his dark gaze deepened, “we are now man and wife.”

Her breath caught in her throat. Even from across the room, his gaze bored into hers. Beckoning. Magnetic. Irresistible. A yearning ache fluttered deep in her core, and she wrenched her gaze away with a nearly physical effort. Sabrina’s fists clenched in her lap, so tight her nails dug into her palms. The pain cleared her mind, and the expression she turned back to Nicholas was unruffled, belying the explosive emotions he triggered within her,

“No doubt you will discover the purpose of our journey soon enough. I see no urgent need to explain it all to you now.” She leaned back and surveyed his relaxed demeanor with a measure of satisfaction. At least on this subject she had the upper hand. “So if we have sufficiently cleared up your concerns ...” she cast him a pleasant smile and gestured with a tilt of her head toward the door, “get out.”

Laughter danced in his eyes. He settled himself deeper in the berth. “Ah, but we have not discussed the final term of our arrangement.”

“I would think that condition, above all others, would be easily understood.”

“I simply want to be absolutely certain.”

“I appreciate that.”

“After all, I would hate to violate any of your rules and regulations. Are these standard with a marriage of convenience, do you think?”

Sabrina struggled to keep her composed smile from blossoming into a genuine grin. “I really have no idea.”

“Neither have I.” He sighed, as if the issue was of paramount importance. “I have never been in a marriage of convenience before. And I’m not at all sure if convenience is the proper word for it. So far nothing about it has struck me as at all convenient. In fact, I can see where some of it will be a damned nuisance.”

Sabrina wasn’t sure if she wanted to laugh out loud or throw the nearest object at his head. The man was actually joking with her, breaking down her resistance, toppling her defenses. Startled, she realized she enjoyed this verbal fencing. Realized, as well, how Nicholas had earned his reputation with the ladies. The pompous, arrogant earl of Wyldewood was positively charming.

The grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Nuisance or not, you agreed.”

He shrugged as best he could in his prone position. “And that brings us back yet again to that last term. Now, what was it I agreed to? Oh, yes; you said you would not share your bed with any man you did not love.”

She nodded, wondering where this would lead.

“Very well, then.” Nicholas swung his legs to the floor, bounded to his feet and in two long strides stood before her. He knelt before her feet and clasped her hands in his. “I love you. I have always loved you. I shall always love you.”

“What?” She tried to snatch her hand away. “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but I am, my dear. Need I prove my love to you?” he asked dramatically. “Since the moment we met I have lived only to be in your presence. Your hair is spun of purest gold; your eyes rival the most brilliant—”

“Nicholas!” She laughed and pushed him away. “That has the sound of a well-rehearsed play. How many times have you told some poor, unsuspecting woman you loved her?”

He stood and grinned down at her. “This year or ever?”

Laughter bubbled through her lips. “You are a rake!”

“At your service.” He bowed with a sweeping gesture. “Do with me as you please.”

“What I please is for you to stop this foolishness and leave so I that I may retire for the evening.”

He shook his head firmly. “I fear you were not listening to me. I am not going anywhere. I am staying right here. In this room. With my wife.”

The light moment they’d shared vanished abruptly. Sabrina leapt to her feet and glared up at Nicholas. “You gave your word. You promised to respect my privacy!”

“And so I shall. If you would like to change into whatever the thoroughly proper Lady Stanford wears to bed, I shall be more than happy to close my eyes. Although,” his gaze flicked over her man’s clothing, “I can’t imagine anything would be as fetching as the attire you donned today.”

“I most certainly will not change my clothes with you here,” she snapped.

“That is entirely your decision. I find I am in agreement with you on one point. It has indeed been a long day, and I too would like to retire.” Nicholas grinned down at her. “And since I have no such compulsion about privacy, consider this a warning. I do not find clothing especially comfortable to sleep in. Therefore, I sleep without any. I am going to prepare for bed now. You may do as you wish.”

Incredulous, Sabrina glared at him. Surely the man did not intend to fully disrobe right here in front of her? In a swift gesture, Nicholas pulled his shirt over his head, revealing broad, hard shoulders and a firm, muscled chest. His skin was surprisingly dark, and she remembered that Simon had told her he’d been working with the crew, obviously without a shirt. Dark, crisp hair curled across his chest and drifted seductively down his flat stomach to disappear beneath his unmentionables.

She swallowed convulsively. Just how far would he go? Sabrina had not seen a man unclothed since her husband. But even she realized Nicholas was an outstanding example of the male animal. Tall and broad, he towered above her, filling the space in the now tiny cabin. She wanted to reach out and lightly run her hand over solid muscle sheathed in velvet skin. Wanted to absorb the heat of his body with her own. Wanted to...

“Sabrina.”

His amused voice jerked her gaze to his face. She drew a deep breath and composed herself. “Yes?”

He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I am now going to remove the remainder of my clothing.”

She sighed and surrendered. “You really are going to stay here, aren’t you?”

“Yes, my dear, I really am.” Lightly, he kissed the tip of her nose.

“Very well.” She strode to the bed and gathered a woolen blanket in her arms. Moving to a chair, she plopped herself down, wrapped the blanket around her and flipped her feet onto the seat of a second chair. She clasped her hands together in her lap and smiled pleasantly. “Then proceed.”

For the first time that night he appeared uneasy. “Are you certain?”

Satisfaction spread through Sabrina as she realized the way to win this man’s game was to turn the tables on him. Accept his challenges and repay him in kind. “Oh, absolutely. It’s not as if you were the one who insisted on privacy.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “And you are going to remain seated? There?” She nodded. “It is not precisely what I expected from a woman with your reputation.”

She widened her eyes in as innocent an expression as she could manage. “Why, Nicholas, I am truly sorry I am not living up to your standards of dull and boring. I shall try much, much harder to be the paragon of virtue you married.”

She snuggled deeper into the chair and let her eyes drift closed. “I shall not share a bed with you, but I will share my accommodations. I shall be more than happy to sleep right here tonight.”

“Delightful,” he grumbled.

Eyes closed, she listened to him move about the cabin. The temptation to peek grew too strong, and she opened one cautious eye. He stood by the wall, his back to her. She caught only the briefest glimpse before he snuffed the lantern, plunging the room into night. The bed creaked and rustled under his weight.

Sabrina smiled smugly and closed her eyes once again. The chair was exceedingly uncomfortable, but a poor night’s sleep was little enough price to pay to beat Nicholas at his own game.

She drifted off to sleep cloaked in a firm sense of satisfaction and dreamt of a laughing man with deep black eyes and the body of a Greek statue.

A tall, powerful Greek statue without even the benefit of a strategically placed fig leaf.

“Glorious day, don’t you think?”

Sabrina didn’t so much as flutter an eyelash in response. She leaned forward over the rail and stared out at the sea.

Nicholas suppressed a smile and tried again. “I find nothing is quite so refreshing as sleeping on board ship. It must be the sea air. Did you sleep well, my dear?”

Sabrina favored him with the barest of glances, nicking her gaze over him in a disdainful manner, then turned back to resume her perusal of a blinding blue sky and glittering azure waves. He grinned to himself. There was no doubt she had slept poorly in the uncomfortable chair. Throughout the night he’d heard several heartfelt sighs and a few low, incoherent comments. He really should have insisted that she take the bed.

A twinge of guilt tweaked briefly at his conscience. It was not his fault she chose to sleep where she did. In spite of the terms of their marriage agreement, he was perfectly amenable to sharing the berth. As to exactly what that implied, he would not force himself upon her, although, if truth were told, it was his legal right. But that step he would leave up to her, confident that she would come to him eventually.

No doubt it would take time. The woman was stubborn. Stubborn and clever and, very probably, courageous. His determination strengthened to peel away the layers obscuring what he sensed, what he hoped, what he wanted, was a fiery, passionate spirit.

He rested one arm on the rail and blatantly studied her profile. Strands of gold-washed hair drifted in the breeze, softly framing her delicate features. The masculine attire molded to her body, the linen shirt clinging to beguiling curves and fetching valleys. Her breeches outlined long, shapely legs and round, yielding buttocks. Never had male clothing looked so attractive, so enticing, so delicious. He hoped he would not have to wait too long.

Nicholas was not at all used to waiting for the favors of a woman. Typically, women he cast his eye upon were all too willing to enthusiastically submit to his every wish and desire, with little effort on his part. Oh, certainly, it required the murmuring of a few choice romantic phrases. Never having been in love, he did not think it particularly ill-advised to use the declaration of that emotion in his amorous conquests. He nearly chuckled aloud at the thought. It certainly hadn’t worked with Sabrina. No matter; eventually he would determine just what would work. He wanted her and he would have her. It was as simple as that. He always got what he wanted, and he did not accept defeat well.

“What are you staring at?” Sabrina glowered at him.

Nicholas cast her his most polished smile. “You, my lovely wife. A vision of grace and beauty.”

She stared, utter disbelief scrawled across her face. “I’m a vision, all right, but hardly one of grace and beauty. I have barely slept. My eyes feel thick and scratchy. My head aches, and turning my neck more than a fraction is extremely painful. Vision? Hah.” She turned back to the sea, muttering under her breath, “I feel like bloody hell.”

Did she say... no, surely he was mistaken. He thought for a moment, then stepped behind her, placing his hands lightly on her neck.

She jerked away and glared. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Since your discomfort is my fault, indirectly at any rate, the least I can do is make amends. Here.” Grabbing her shoulders, he turned her around. He replaced his hands on each side of her neck and gently massaged. “Does this feel at all better?”

Better? she thought. It feels bloody marvelous. She groaned aloud. “Good Lord, yes. It’s exquisite.” Her head fell forward and his hands traveled down the slope of her neck to her shoulders. Stiffened muscles dissolved under strong, sure fingers. A thought drifted through her mind: What else could those nimble fingers do? She sighed. “Wherever did you learn to do this? Some foreign country?”

He laughed softly. “It’s amazing the little things I’ve picked up on my travels. But this comes from the experience of trying to ease the aches and pains one has after going a few rounds with a fighter the likes of Gentleman Jackson. I frequent his rooms in London.”

Relaxation flowed from his soothing fingers, and Sabrina thought surely she could stand here under his ministering touch forever.

“So you enjoy boxing,” she said absently. “Tell me, do you have any other interests—besides women, I mean. It strikes me I know far less about you than you do about me.”

“Perhaps. Although it appears much of my information about you was in error. What exactly do you know about me?”

“Oh, this and that. Public knowledge, mostly. I have heard you are highly thought of in government circles and expected to make a mark in Parliament. I know your wealth is both impressive and solid.”

“Is that public knowledge as well?”

“Not at all.” She closed her eyes, lulled by his skillful touch. “I had inquiries made.”

His hands stilled on her shoulders. “You inquired about me?”

“Um-hum.”

He gripped her shoulders and spun her around. Sabrina blinked rapidly in astonishment. His voice was stern, but amusement lit his eyes. “Let me get this straight. You had inquiries made about me, yet you were angered that I had you investigated?”

“That’s different,” she huffed.

“Hardly.” He laughed. “But it’s of no consequence. It simply puts us on an equal footing. I prefer everything out in the open. I value honesty highly, particularly between men and women.”

“Of course,” she said faintly. “So do I.” She paused, considering his words. “Honesty. As in telling a woman you love her for your own purposes?”

He grinned roguishly and threw her words back at her. “That’s different.”

“I see.” She returned his grin. “So all really
is
fair in love and war.”

“Precisely.”

Sabrina merely shook her head. The more time she spent with Nicholas, the more the man worked his way past her defenses. He was every bit as charming as his reputation attested, and far more amusing than she’d expected. She noted with surprise that she actually liked the man.

She had not counted on that when she plunged unthinking into this marriage. But since she was tied to him now, perhaps forever, liking him might well be for the best. Still, would that affection be the first step toward love? Loving Nicholas would only spell disaster. She had no doubt a man who used words of love so easily was a man for whom they meant nothing.

No, she would allow herself to like him, even to enjoy his easy wit and flirtatious banter, but she would not permit herself to love him. That was no way to conduct a marriage of convenience.

And there was still that awkward question of honesty. There was much about herself, past and present, she hid from him. Much she determined to keep hidden forever. What would his reaction be to her secrets?

* * *

By the time the sun set Sabrina could barely keep her eyes open. She and Nicholas had spent a pleasant enough day, occupied in idle conversation, with no treacherous subjects broached. He seemed to enjoy her company and, slowly, she relaxed in his presence, buoyed by the realization that she could indeed drop her guard somewhat without undue risk.

With every hour spent together, more of her true self emerged. Her conversation grew increasingly daring, and she sensed no censure, no disapproval from him. Relief accompanied the realization that Nicholas found her not simply attractive, but interesting and enjoyable as well. She knew of many marriages based on far less.

Sabrina returned to the cabin well before her new husband and wondered what this second night of wedded bliss would bring. She cast a disgusted glance at the chair, tonight she wished to sleep, not spend hours restlessly searching for comfort. He could spend the night in the bloody chair if he chose; tonight the bed was hers.

Stripping off her clothes, she threw them atop a low chest, washed herself with the water from the pitcher and pulled a nightrail from her portmanteau. She tossed the sheer linen garment over her head and let it drift down her body, delighting in the caress of the lightweight fabric. Sabrina, never one for high-necked, flannel sleepwear, much preferred the decadent luxury of linen and lace.

The nightrail was far more provocative and revealing than she would have wished under the circumstances. But it could not be helped. If she had suspected she would be in the position of sharing her quarters with a man the likes of Nicholas, perhaps she could have found a bit of flannel, for protection, if for no other reason. Her arms reached skyward and she indulged in a long, luxurious stretch.

“Now that is a fetching sight to welcome a man.” Nicholas stood in the doorway, a grin of appreciation on his face. “I daresay marriage definitely has its benefits.”

“Nicholas.” She sighed, fighting the impulse to cover herself. “Did no one ever teach you to knock before entering a lady’s chamber?”

The grin widened. “I can’t say I remember ever having had complaints before.”

“Well, you have one now.” She kept her voice brisk and businesslike in an effort not to betray the fluttering deep within her triggered by his presence. It was a disturbingly intimate scene. The tall, broad-shouldered man in the doorway, his dark eyes aglow in the lantern light, and she, dressed in apparel now suddenly seductive and alluring.

Sabrina drew a deep breath. “I assume you insist on sleeping here again tonight?”

“I can think of no place I’d rather be.” He closed the door firmly and stepped toward her.

“What are you doing?” she snapped, nerves taut.

Nicholas halted and lifted a questioning brow. “I was merely going to sit down to remove my boots. Is that permissible?”

“Of course. I simply ...” She shook her head in a futile attempt to clear her mind of unwanted images of his nude, bronzed body. Odd; she hadn’t been troubled by last night’s glimpse of him before now. But somehow, in the close confines of the cabin, with barely a whisper of linen concealing her and an undeniable glint of desire in his eyes ... “I must be very weary,” she finished lamely.

“No doubt,” he murmured. His gaze wandered over her, intimate and caressing. She wanted to run, to hide. She wanted to stay. Everywhere his glance touched grew hot, singed with a fire she’d never known. Her nipples tightened, and she feared he would see the evidence of her arousal beneath the sheer fabric of her gown. Would see it and then ... Heat flushed her face and an ache throbbed deep within her. The very room seemed to pulse and reverberate with the slow simmer of suppressed passion.

The cabin was hot. Very hot. Why had she not noticed it before? It was increasingly difficult to breathe, and she unconsciously fanned her face with her hand. His gaze caught hers and she froze. Love or no love, would it be so very wrong to take what she wanted? What might well be inevitable? He was, after all, her husband.

“Nicholas, I...” She stepped toward him.

“Sabrina.” Her name was little more than a sigh on his lips, his voice an odd mix of warning and desire.

He pulled her into his arms, and eagerly she met his lips with her own. Current arced between them, and the sizzling sensation radiated through her. His tongue plundered and pillaged and she countered his demands with her own, teasing, insistent. He smelled of sea and sun. And Sabrina realized a kiss alone would soon not be enough.

Nicholas wrenched his lips free in an urgent need to taste more of this intoxicating creature. His mouth trailed eagerly down the slope of her neck to where delicate lace framed firm, full breasts. She threw her head back and moaned softly, and he nudged the gown down. The exposed nipple, ripe and tight, beckoned. He groaned and gently pulled it into his mouth. With tongue and teeth he toyed and teased until her breath came in short gasps and her body molded against his.

He ran his hand along one shapely leg to the firm, succulent curve of her derriere. Slowly, he gathered the fine material until his searching fingers found bare flesh. She shuddered beneath his touch, and he drew his hand up along her leg to the curve of her hip. His fingers trailed across her flat stomach, lower to the guardian nest of silken curls. His hand cupped her, his fingers exploring the delicate folds of flesh, now heavy and damp with desire.

“Nicholas,” she moaned. Her thoughts no longer lucid, she focused only on his touch. His arousal pushed hard against her through the fabric of his clothes and hers, determined and demanding. Her body yearned for more, for the press of his flesh, naked and searing against hers. She was his and that was what she wanted. All she wanted.

He knew the moment she surrendered. Knew the instant she was his for the taking. Satisfaction surged in his veins and he ground his lips against hers, savoring the sweet taste of triumph. The eagerness of her response drowned him in heady anticipation of their coupling.

“. . . I shall not give my favors to a man I do not love.”

Her words, her ridiculous terms, rang in the back of his mind. He ignored the glimmer of guilt, the merest whisper of shame that nibbled at the fringe of his conscience. This was not an innocent virgin straight from the schoolroom; she wanted him as much as he wanted her. As if to prove his point, Sabrina clung to him, her tongue invading his mouth, her body straining for contact with his.

Would she regret this? Would she hate him for losing control? Would he hate himself?

“
I have also heard you are a man of honor. A man of your word
.”

Nicholas groaned to himself. He
was
a man of his word; perhaps not as scrupulous in his dealings with women as in other areas, but a man of honor nonetheless. The damned woman probably trusted him. God knows, she’d very likely needed the guidance of a man long before now. He could not disappoint her.

With a strength of will he never dreamed he possessed, Nicholas smoothed her gown back over her hips and pulled his lips from hers, cursing the poor timing of a long-sleeping conscience. He struggled for control.

“I believe I’ll sleep on deck tonight.” Turning quickly, he headed for the door. He yanked it open and glanced back, nearly losing his determination to leave.

Sabrina stood motionless in the center of the cabin. The lantern light glowed through the translucent fabric of her nightrail. Her hair and gown were in disarray; her lips were swollen and bruised, her face flushed. Emerald eyes stared, wide with shock, glazed with passion. He ached to return to her.