Between A Rake And A Hard Place [Pirates of London Book 2] (11 page)

She thought he knew perfectly well why, and that was what had him so disconcerted. “I am very glad you did.” Her heart was still pounding.

“Nothing will be the same between us now.”

“No.” It was a valid point. “But as you can imagine, I am delighted at the change.”

“I wish you weren’t so damned tempting.” He sighed then, his mouth curved in rueful amusement. “I am not like one of the heroes in your novels, my dear. I’m moody and secretive and would no doubt make a terrible husband.”

At least he was
thinking
about it.

“You are intelligent and considerate and I have always thought you’d make a very wonderful husband indeed. As for your secrets, you may keep them, my lord. I understand you are not entirely free from the war.”

He stood abruptly, his bow swift and polite. “You understand entirely too much. You were right earlier, that is part of the problem. Good evening, Lady Hannah. I hope you sleep well.”

When he left the room, she sat there and thoughtfully contemplated the empty doorway. It was progress, of course. She’d alternated between despair and elation
all week because of his conspicuous absence, wondering if he’d simply forgotten her existence, or if he was deliberately keeping away.

The latter, it seemed.

It was probably ill-advised to feel a glimmer of hope, but the way he’d kissed her…

She felt it anyway.

Chapter 10

“More wine, my lady?” The captain lifted the bottle and smiled, his face weathered by the elements, and there was a slight gap in his teeth, but Cassandra found she liked his somewhat boisterous good nature.

“Thank you, Captain Haldon.”

“My pleasure for such a lovely lady.”  His slight Scandinavian accent enhanced his charming smile.

“I somehow feel confident he means that.” Marcus grinned, his shoulders wider than the back of his chair, his white teeth gleaming. “Quite frankly, I can’t believe our possessive friend here deigned to share your presence
this evening.”

Christopher, dressed this evening in his usual swashbuckling attire of a white loose-sleeved shirt open at the neck and dark breeches, gave his friend a sardonic smile. “Perhaps if I trusted you more, Lady Cassandra would have spent more time on deck.”

Considering she was wearing the almost indecent dress he’d purchased for her in Gibraltar, both men had been circumspect and polite, not giving more than the occasional glance at her nearly exposed bosom. Christopher was not nearly as discreet, and the dynamic between the three men would be amusing, but she was sure if she even flirted a little, she’d be whisked straight back to her cabin.

Her lover was jealous; not overtly so, still…
she
could tell…and Marcus had just used the word
possessive
.

She had a lover. It was scandalous and she knew it would be over soon, but for now he was her
lover
.

What a different turn her life had taken. That well-bred sedate young lady, betrothed to a wealthy titled gentleman, was irrevocably changed into someone quite different.

“We should dock tomorrow.” Haldon sounded almost sorry. “I’ll miss the sea. Tell me Auberville won’t keep me in that filthy city for long.”

“I can hardly answer for his lordship,” Christopher responded. “But I can promise we’ll not stay long in port. We rarely do.”

We. He would leave her.

She could hardly ask him not to.

But in her heart, no matter how ridiculously romantic it might be, she wanted to demand that very thing.

“My sister knows Lord Auberville quite well.” She asked curiously, “This is his ship?”

“The earl has some wide-flung interests,” Christopher said smoothly.

“Indeed he does,” the captain agreed. “Tell me more about this venture in South America.”

“A walk on the deck, Lady Cassandra?” Marcus stood, tall and dark, his face creased with a slight, wicked smile as he offered his arm. “I’ve a feeling they are going to start talking about future business ventures and it might bore a refined lady.”

“Just behave yourself, Marc.” Christopher quirked a brow.

“This from
you
?” Marcus laughed heartily.

Cassandra placed her hand on his sleeve and allowed him to open the door for her. It was a lovely evening, with brilliant stars against a velvet black sky. The moon was almost full and shimmered light on the rippling water.

“I’ve gotten quite used to the tang of the sea,” she murmured as they walked to the rail.

“Sailing does get into your blood.” Marcus gazed out over the water. “I was struck with it very early in my life. Wanderlust and a thirst for adventure. Chris is different. He acquired his special skills during the war, not because he wanted them, but because it seems he is quite good at, shall we say, more subtle forms of warfare.”

“He was a spy.” Cassandra had already discerned that easily enough.

“I am not quite sure how Wellington would define him, but he was invaluable. I don’t think Chris considers any task impossible. The word is not in his vocabulary. Give him a problem, no matter how difficult, and he immediately begins to analyze how to solve it. Barricaded fortresses were taken because armed guards and walls ten feet thick mean nothing to him. Even extracting one beautiful young lady from a harem didn’t daunt him.”

“He certainly seemed quite calm and competent during the whole escape.” Cassandra shivered a little at the memory. “I think that is how he got me to jump to that rooftop. He acted as if it was just a simple matter and in retrospect it wasn’t a great distance across, but it was truly a very far way down into the courtyard. There is a dream-like aspect to that evening and it all happened so very fast. I don’t think I’ve ever really thanked you for your part.”

“There’s no need.” Marcus shook his dark head. “Chris planned it, he reconnoitered the palace, and all I did was follow his instructions and set off a tiny charge to distract the guards.”

“Hardly tiny.” Cassandra laughed. “I feel faint trying to imagine what you would consider to be a significant blast.”

“I somehow doubt that, my lady. You are not the swooning type.” He looked at her with an almost disconcerting intensity. “You are remarkable, and I am not just referring to your extraordinary beauty. While my good friend is not afraid of anything, I think he should be very much afraid of you.”

His vehemence was startling, for usually Marcus was teasing and irreverent. “Afraid of me why?” Cassandra’s pulse accelerated.

“I think he is in trouble. You are entirely too intelligent to not know there have been women before in his life, but he is usually quite selective and makes cautious decisions when it comes to the females in his bed. Take my word that none have been the innocent daughter of a respectable earl. Oh, I understand why he is willing to take the risk, but it is more formidable than scaling the wall with the Forlorn Hope at Badajoz.”

“I love him.” She didn’t mean to blurt it out, but the words just spilled out, not just from her mouth, but her soul.

“I know you do.” Marcus, for such a very tall, almost menacing man, had a gentle smile when he chose to give it. “I’m just concerned it is a mutual affliction. Please do not break his heart. He might be adept at solving almost any puzzle, but putting those pieces back together I fear would be a most difficult task that might thwart even him.”

What did he just say
?

A warm hand at the small of her back made her jump. She hadn’t heard him approach, but Christopher was like that, silent as a cat and as able to land on his feet. “You two are certainly deep in conversation. Make I inquire as to the subject?”

“You are hoping we will say it is you, and I hate to deflate your considerable conceit, but we were discussing the balmy weather.” Marcus looked bland, straightening away from the ship’s rail.

“On the contrary, I’d prefer my particular sins be left out of any discussion.”

She’d gotten used to their verbal sparring and usually she found it amusing, but she was still reeling from what Marcus had just said to her.

“I take it my presence is superfluous now that you have arrived.” With a small flourish, Marcus bent over her hand. “Thank you for the opportunity to admire the stars with a beautiful lady at my side.”

“Thank you,” she said softly, and the response had nothing to do with the spectacular sky.

* * * *

He was acting like a man who had lost all good sense and denying it seemed futile.

Christopher admired the purely feminine profile of the woman standing next to him and wondered how often in his life he’d ever been at a loss for words. Almost never, but as she turned to him with luminous eyes and a vulnerable expression on her perfect face, he simply had no idea what to say and she had managed to do that to him before.

What the devil had Marcus said to her?

“Dinner was wonderful.” She smiled, and since he was an idiot, every nerve-ending in his body reacted.

“Yes.”

Now that is witty
.

“What is the Forlorn Hope?”

Christopher had to admit he hadn’t expected that particular question. “The Forlorn Hope? Why?”

“I am curious.”

He should have insisted on a more demure gown, but then again, he wasn’t sure, considering where he had acquired it there was a more demure one available, and he’d had no idea how it would look on Cassandra. Part of the problem wasn’t the style—it was fashionable enough, but her air of purity made the low-cut bodice somehow more pronounced.

Certainly Captain Haldon and Marcus had appreciated the view. So had he for that matter, but at the moment she was looking at him expectantly and he needed to answer her question. His voice sounded remarkably normal considering his tumultuous feelings. “They are the men sent into the breach in the wall in an invasion. The first ones to be cut down by the waiting enemy and almost none of them survive. It is an honor, and a death sentence.”

One slim hand on the rail helping to keep her balance against the movement of the vessel, Cassandra said quietly, “I see. I am not sure I will ever understand men.”

“If it is any consolation, my lady, I am positive we will never understand women.”

“This is our last night.”

It was. He was fully aware of it.

Perhaps the last time he would ever touch her, taste her, wake in the morning to see the flutter of her lashes as she rolled over and whispered his name.

Unthinkable.

But he was very used to stark reality. In one swift moment he swept her into his arms, lifting her easily in a ridiculous and theatrical gesture. “Shall we make the most of it?”

“I agree,” she whispered, her arms circling his neck.

Nothing could make him move toward their cabin faster.
Last night
.

In a few swift strides he was at the door, shouldering it open and crossing the threshold to set her down next to the bed. Why in the hell he had ever thought she could wear that gown in front of anyone else was a mystery to him. The gown was decadent, yes, but the voluptuous beauty of her form made it even much more so. The two should never have been combined. Tersely, he said, “Let me help you undress.”

“I am perfectly capable—”

His hands spun her around. “If you had any idea of how much pleasure it would give me, I would hope you’d indulge me.”

“How much pleasure?”

She very rarely failed to surprise him. This time he stopped, his fingers in the act of unfastening a button. “Quite a lot. Taking off your clothes is like unveiling a fine work of art.”

She reached up and took the pins from her hair, the long tresses flowing over her shoulders like pale silk and brushing his fingers. “The comparison is very flattering.”

“It is very accurate. So may I?”

“You may.” She let him work the fastenings and considering how little material there actually was, it didn’t take him long to divest her of the garment. Just as quickly he lowered her to the bed. “No stockings?” He ran his palms down the long length of her legs. “You are quite outrageous, Lady Cassandra.”

“They are hardly comfortable and if it is warm enough, I’d prefer to do without them.” She shrugged, her bare shoulders lifting, her beautiful full breasts quivering. “No one would ever know if I were wearing them or not.”

“Except me.”

Her eyes held his. “Except you.”

“You are a bewitching mixture of forbidden pleasure and danger. Is that why I am risking everything?” He kissed her slender throat and she tasted like an intoxicating mixture of sweetness and salt, and his mouth lingered at the point where her pulse beat in the hollow of her arched neck. “Your father will want to kill me.”

“But you won’t allow it.” Her hands ran down his back in a provocative caress. “All I ask is that he come to no harm either.”

“What about your fiancée?”

“You know I never wanted to marry him.”

“So I can kill
him
?”

In answer she playfully hit his bare shoulder with her palm, her soft lips curved in laughter. “Must you be so bloodthirsty? No, you may not. I cannot see how he is at fault for anything. I don’t like him, but in a certain sense he is as much a victim as I am of the kidnapping. Suddenly his fiancée vanishes. What must he be thinking?”

Christopher stood and stripped out of his breeches. “Forgive my lack of sympathy.”

“You cannot dislike someone you have never met.”

“I’ve met him.”

He had. They belonged to the same club.

But he didn’t want to think about the man she was affianced to, not when he had every intention of making passionate love to her until they fell asleep, from the most pleasant form of exhaustion possible, in each other’s arms.

“You have?” She looked startled.

He ran a fingertip over her lush lower lip. “I am not an oldest son, but my father is a baron. I went to Eton and then Cambridge just like most of the gentlemen who no doubt fell at your feet when you made your bow. With two older brothers, it is doubtful I will inherit the title, nor do I particularly want it. I happen to be fond of my father and my older brothers and wish them long, happy lives. So, you see, your aristocratic intended is far superior socially, but I’ve always thought that was a poor reason to choose the person to share your life with, though perhaps that is because I am not considered a good catch.” He leaned forward and kissed her, whispering against the delicious softness of her mouth. “I think a change of subject is in order. Do you feel this?”