Authors: Janelle Taylor
“Not this time, love. For the next few weeks, thisis the arrangement. When I make a bargain, it’s full time.” He slowly came forward.
“Never! I can’t sleep with a man!” she panicked, backing against the wall and holding the pillow before her chest as if it could protect her.
He chuckled in amusement as he stood nearly naked beside the large bunk. “The only available bunk is with my men below, and I certainly couldn’t permit you to sleep there.”
“You could sleep there!” she debated.
“Not on your life. This is my cabin, and you’ll share it for a while. You’re not a child and I’m not your lenient father. So stop behaving like a spoiled, rebellious brat with me. In light of our past relationship, don’t you think playing the coy virgin a bit ridiculous?” he teased.
“You ravished me before! But sleep together? We can’t; it isn’t proper,” she reasoned to no avail.
“I seduced you the first time, but not this afternoon. You were just as willing as I was. Get ready for bed and stop all this chatter. I’m exhausted.”
Alex couldn’t very well argue his point about their last union, but this was asking too much! “No!” she defiantly stated.
“Shall I do it for you, love? If you make it necessary, your dress will be ruined,” he threatened in a low tone.
She gaped at him. “You mean undress right here?”
“I’ve seen you nude several times, love,” he mirthfully reminded her. “But if you value that dress, it better come off quickly.”
She shrank against the wall and stared at him. “I’ll sleep in it,” she relented.
“No, you will not. I’ll give you to five to get it off,” he warned.
Alex paled. “You gave Thackery to ten,” she sneered angrily at this degrading event.
“Thackery’s choice was a little more critical than removing a dress, love.”
“I won’t be treated like some cheap harlot! I’m not your mistress; I’m your guest!” she frantically argued, knowing the battle was lost.
Ignoring her, Spencer began to count slowly, “One…two…three…four…”
“All right!” she quickly responded, fearing he would tear the dress off the moment “five” was out. “Turn your back,” she ordered.
He laughed once more, a vexing, but somehow pleasing sound. “No.”
“You’re a…”
He lifted his hand in warning as he snarled, “One more foul word and I’ll take you over my knee and
teach you better!”
She pouted and mumbled, “I wasn’t going to use vulgar talk.”
When she didn’t move, he asked, “Do I start counting again, Angel?”
“I think you’re the meanest man alive!” she shouted in frustration, sliding across the bed and standing up. She remained with her back to him for a few moments.
“You’re slower than a snail. I’m tired, woman!”
She glanced over her shoulder and snapped, “It buttons down the back!”
“Then why didn’t you ask me to unfasten you? I’m not a mind-reader!”
“Would you please unfasten me, sir?” she sarcastically requested. “Or do I have to struggle by myself?”
Tempted to grasp both sides of the dress and rip it off, he curbed that impulse. He fumbled with the row of tiny buttons, muttering curses at the difficult task. She clucked her tongue and saucily warned, “Shall I wash your dirty mouth out with soap, Captain Steele?”
“If you dare,” he parried her jibe, completing the chore.
Alex eased the dress over her shoulders and down her hips. She wiggled most provocatively as she stepped out of it. She walked to the table and lay the dress over a second chair there. Then she sat down and removed her shoes. As she came toward the bed, he chuckled and remarked, “The rest of the garments,
love. When a female’s next to me all night, I want to feel warm flesh.”
She flushed a bright scarlet and inhaled sharply. “You mean remove all my clothes?” she asked in horror.
“All of them. I want nothing between us. We have a lot of time to make up for in only a few short weeks. You only whet my appetite by the pond and this afternoon. Now, you can appease this hunger you created.”
“But we’ve already made love today!” she declared, wondering at his insatiable appetite.
Rumbling laughter filled the room. “What an innocent you are, Angel. Who says a man and woman can’t make love more than once a day?”
“I just thought…I mean I heard…I…” she stammered, confused as to how to explain her obvious misconception. “Do all men…Gossip says wives hate…Do husbands and wives…” Distressed by her ignorance and his beguiling grin, she halted in frustration.
“Wives dislike sex because their husbands are selfish and in too much of a hurry to sate their own desires,” he began in reply to her unfinished questions. “Wives dislike sex because they’ve never been truly satisfied or romanced with leisure and skill. To them, it’s like another chore. But with you, I doubt your husband will leave bed for more than a few moments at a time. With your fiery nature, you’ll do just fine. But if he fails to give you the same pleasures I do, I’ll be around off and on. That is, if you ever tell me
where you live and your name.”
Stunned by his casual attitude about sex and marriage, she stared at him. “I would never carry on like that!” she informed him when she found her voice. “What an evil rogue you are, Steele. Besides, where would I find time to fit you in if he keeps me occupied all the time?” she challenged.
“I would find some way to distract him if you gave the word,” he calmly informed her. “I could be enticed to make you a wealthy widow for the right price,” he devilishly hinted.
“Pay you to murder my husband?” she asked incredulously.
“With the same terms as this present bargain, why not? To have you waiting for me is a mighty big temptation.”
“If you find me so appealing, why not have me waiting for you all the time?” she seductively entreated him, then couldn’t believe she had actually said that.
“I’m not the marrying kind, Angel. I like my freedom too much. A wife and home demand too many strings.” He negligently leaned against the bedpost, relishing this unusual conversation and the intoxicating view of her lush body.
“I wouldn’t. I would demand only your real name and freedom from my father’s wishes,” she tartly offered.
“No female alive is worth my freedom, love.”
“What price does your freedom carry, Joshua?”
“Can you afford to even ask?” he teased.
“Can I afford not to?” she fenced. “You’re certainly better than any man my father’s brought home so far. It could be a marriage in name only. You could loan me the use of your name for whatever price you set. After a while when my father’s temper has cooled and his urgent need to see me wed is sated, I could quietly divorce you and we would both be free and happy. You wouldn’t have to ever see me again,” she suggested with a bewitching smile. “Name your price,” she encouraged him, thinking this only some amusing game.
“With my name in your possession, you could recover any expense by profitably betraying me to your countrymen.”
“I swear I would never reveal who you are, with or without any bargain. I don’t need or want a husband, only a name upon a paper to satisfy my father. Besides, how could I explain marrying Joshua Steele?” she debated cheerfully.
“You could always say you learned the truth after the marriage, giving you an undebatable reason to divorce me.”
“Surely the use of your name for a few months and my eternal silence has some price, Joshua?” she scoffed.
He studied her for a time, smoldering eyes travelling up and down her body several times. “Ten thousand English pounds,” he declared to her surprise.
Observing him for the same length of time, she smiled provocatively. He actually looked serious. Such an amount would require less than two pieces of
her jewelry! She called his bluff, “In gold, jewels, or money?”
Astonished, Spencer asked, “Are you serious? Where would a peasant girl get that much money?”
At calling her a country lass once more, Alex smiled and shrugged. “If you’re serious, then I positively am. Since you’re a man of your word, give it to me in exchange for the money. We can be married in the first port we make, then you can take me home…all the way to my front door. We’ll break the news to my father, show him the license, then you can leave. Naturally when you never return, I’ll pine for a spell, then divorce you,” she delivered her ploy with great ease and confidence.
“Come here and sit down. This sounds most intriguing. I’ve never been so enchantingly propositioned before.”
She hurried over to sit down beside him, disregarding her state of undress. This sport was fun, but it could become more than a joke with a little effort and cunning! “Well? Do you honestly want to earn an easy ten thousand pounds?” she challenged.
“Ten for the marriage, ten for the divorce,” he slyly altered his demand. “Payment before the marriage and definitely not in name only. It wouldn’t be legal if we didn’t consummate it. You remain my wife until I divorce you.”
She pondered his added stipulations. The money was no problem, neither was making love to this virile man who made her pulse race. But why would he want the divorce option in his control? “Are you serious,
Joshua? You aren’t just playing games with me?”
“I’m deadly serious, Angel. Meet my terms and you have a bargain.”
“Your word of honor?” she insisted.
“My word of honor,” he promised, knowing she couldn’t meet those terms.
“I accept your terms,” she promptly agreed before he could add more conditions. “Where is my baggage?”
“Your baggage?” he echoed, baffled by her change of topic.
“You said pay now and marry at first port, so I will. The money is hidden in my baggage. Your name in exchange for twenty thousand pounds. The date of our divorce is up to you.”
“You have twenty thousand pounds in your baggage?” he stormed in disbelief.
“I have jewels which will more than cover that amount,” she calmly announced. “You can select whichever pieces you want.”
“I don’t believe you,” he argued, dismayed by the serious look in her eyes. If she could meet his terms, how would he extract himself from this absurd trap? He laughed at his foolishness. There was no way this country lass had that much money!
“Have someone bring the baggage here and I’ll show you,” she challenged. “You did give your word of honor, Josh. Are you backing out so soon?”
“This is only a trick to get your clothes, isn’t it?” he charged.
“Since I’ll be your wife soon, I won’t have need of
any. You did say my husband would keep me occupied,” she saucily retorted. “Since we won’t have time for a honeymoon afterwards, why not share one before?”
He ran his fingers through his sable mane as he studied her. There was only one way to halt this game now. “Stay right here,” he ordered, pulling on his pants and leaving.
Congratulating herself for solving her problem with her father, Alex envisioned his face as she plotted her impending tale of love and marriage to an overpowering American. She could say he swept her off her feet. He would be impressed by Stephen Whatever before he was supposedly forced to leave on business, never to return. Free…Later, she could feign a broken heart as a reason to stall another marriage until she found a man who suited her. If Stephen never returned and she discovered another man like him, she could always divorce him on grounds of desertion or presumed death…the plan was perfect!
Spencer stuck his dark head in the door and commanded her to cover up. When she had done so, her baggage was brought into the room by two husky men and deposited in the middle of the floor. Once the men had departed, he turned and challenged, “Hand over the money, love. If you can’t, these trunks go over the side and you will pay dearly.”
She smiled as she rushed forward to open one of the trunks. “Thanks for bringing them along. I would hate to think of them at the bottom of the ocean.”
She withdrew all her clothes and piled them neatly
upon the floor. Spencer noted the elegance and expense of the fine wardrobe within the trunk. Was this innocent in fact a thief? Whose possessions were these? Had she stolen them from some wealthy mistress?
Alex glanced up at him, her smug expression fading to one of confusion. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“I was just wondering how you came in possession of such clothes.”
“They’re mine! If you doubt me, check the sizes.” She took a small bejeweled dagger and pried open a secret compartment on the lower left side of the trunk. “Thackery didn’t have time to rob me. He was too busy trying to rape me. No doubt he would have gotten around to it later!”
She held up a box and taunted, “See, I can hold up my end of the bargain.” She stood up and opened the box to reveal a collection of very expensive jewelry. “Any piece is valued at half your asking price. Which ones do you want?”
He took the box and walked to the table to remove them and to inspect the costly collection. Without a doubt, they were real. “Where did you get these?” he demanded harshly.
“From my father, mother, and my grandparents,” she answered, puzzled by his anger.
He glared at her, his skepticism vivid. “We have a deal, Joshua. I’ve kept my part. What about you?”
“What if I demand the entire collection?” he tested her.
Dismayed by his apparent greed, she still relented, “It isn’t fair, but I agree. I’ll tell my father they were stolen and he’ll buy me more.”
“What’s your name, Angel? How does your father earn this kind of money?”
“I’ll answer any question you have…after we’re married,” she stubbornly declared, feeling he might trick her after all.
“How do you expect to marry me without a name?”
“You can find out at the ceremony,” she rebuffed his ploy.
“You want me this badly?” he asked.
“Your name and my freedom, yes. Consider those a wedding gift, my dowry.”
Desperately seeking a way to end this farce, he stood up and paced in deep concentration. He couldn’t marry anyone, especially not a mere country lass. No doubt her family was involved in some profitable and illegal activities. Had this been her intention all along, to snag a wealthy and prestigious husband to better her station in life? But why him? Why was she travelling alone? Why had she been by the pond? Too many suspicious questions without logical answers…