Authors: Marilyn Yarbrough
She caught her lip
between her teeth. What she was about to suggest seemed too wanton, and she
hoped he wouldn’t think her too bold. “Is it important to take off all my
clothes? Couldn’t I just remove what’s necessary?”
His quiet laughter reverberated
against her breast. “You are a tempting little siren.”
“Are you afraid of
crashing against the rocks?” she teased.
“Not the rocks.” He
placed nibbling kisses on her neck while moving her backward. “More than likely
we’ll crash against this desk.”
“No, Payton,” she said
when she realized his intent. She twisted in his arms and grabbed for the doorknob.
“Not here. Someone could walk in on us.”
He slipped his arms
around her waist and pulled her against him so her back pressed against his
chest.
“I doubt there’d be
anything to see since you have on too many clothes.” He nuzzled her braid to
one side and nipped at the back of her neck. His hand slid over her breast and tugged
at the bodice front. “You’re cinched up too tight.”
“Be careful you don’t
tear the seams.” She let out her breath, allowing the fullness to ease.
Carefully, he edged his
hand beneath the material and caressed her bare skin. His fingers crept lower
until he captured her nipple hidden beneath the material. A gasp of pleasure slipped
through her lips.
With his other hand, he
gathered up the length of the ivory colored skirt. His fingers searched for an
opening between the linen tapes that held the wires of the crinoline in place.
He grasped at the ruffled pantalets that covered her leg.
“Way too many clothes,”
he said with a groan.
“We should stop.” She
tugged at his arms.
“Not yet.” His fingers
searched around until he found the unstitched seam of her pantalets. “Not until
I touch—”
He sucked in a breath through
his teeth when his fingers rubbed at the flesh between her thighs. Her own
breath caught in her throat. He stroked again, and her knees buckled. Her hands
went behind her as she searched for him, but he was too close. Instead, she
grabbed at his hips.
Holding her too him, he
shuffled around until his back hit the door. She felt him lean against it—either
for support, or to keep out intruders, but she no longer worried about being
discovered.
His fingers stroked over
her, bringing her body to the brink of pleasure. Her body trembled, and she
groaned with delight.
“That’s right, my lovely
mermaid,” he said while placing nibbling kisses on her neck. “Sing for me.”
Her body shivered and
shook from his intimate caresses. A coil of heat tightened in her belly. When her
body unraveled, she called out his name.
After the last wave of pleasure
washed over her, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to the sofa. He
flopped down with her in his lap. He kissed her full on her mouth before
positioning her legs so she straddled him.
“Aren’t you afraid of
missing your ship?” she murmured when she felt him fumble with the opening of
his trousers.
“The only thing I’m
worried about,” he said in a tortured voice, “is getting these damn buttons
undone before I completely humiliate myself.”
Her breath caught in her
throat when the back of his knuckles brushed over her exposed flesh. “Everything
is so sensitive.”
“Aye,” he agreed. He accomplished
the goal of freeing himself from the trousers. His hardened flesh pressed against
her. “Much too sensitive.”
He continued in spite of
their shared sensitivity. Their bodies shuddered and shook as he eased into her.
If anyone had chanced to
listen at the door, they won’t know if the couple cried out because of extreme
pain, or extreme pleasure. Only the looks on their faces when they were
finished revealed it had been ecstasy.
****
“I wish I could hold you
like this forever,” Payton said, “but we can’t stay here much longer.”
Julia lifted her head
from his shoulder. Her eyelids felt heavy with the aftermath of passion. A
smile tugged at her lips. “This is a fine time to worry about someone walking
in on us.”
“Right now, I wouldn’t
care if everyone on the entire guest list walked through this room, but I have
a ship to catch. I don’t want to swim all the way to San Francisco.”
“I understand,” she said
as she moved from his lap.
He pulled a handkerchief
from his pocket and offered it to her. “You can go with me. I already told you
that.”
“You have business to
take care of there.” She turned her back to him while she straightened her
clothing. “I’d just be in your way. And I have business of my own to take care
of here.”
His hand caressed her
shoulder, and he turned her to him. His brilliant blue eyes filled with concern.
“While I’m gone, I want you to promise me you’ll be careful and not get into
any trouble.”
“You’re the only one who’s
given me trouble,” she said in an attempt to lighten his mood.
“I mean it, Julia.” He
gripped her arms. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d prefer you went
to live with the Baxters, but if you won’t do that, at least swear to me that you’ll
stay in Sacramento and remain out of harm’s way. Can you do that?”
She closed her eyes and looked
deep into her soul to determine if she could keep that promise. She let out a
sigh and opened her eyes. “Yes, I swear I’ll stay here and avoid trouble of any
kind.”
The worried look vanished
from his eyes. His lips curled into a smile. He pulled her close. “Shall we
seal this bargain with a kiss?”
Footsteps in the hallway
startled her. She pushed him away. “I think you’d better button up your
trousers before someone walks in here.”
She opened the door a
crack and peered out into the hallway. While she waited for a servant to pass, Payton
tucked his shirt into his trousers. When the passageway cleared, she darted out
of the room. He caught up with her just as she entered the kitchen.
Dishes clattered. A buzz
of confusion hovered throughout the room as the newly hired servants scurried about
and tried to avoid bumping into each other. Julia had to raise her voice to get
the chef’s attention.
At the sound of her
voice, Marcel turned toward her. A smile played on his lips until he saw Payton.
He grabbed a large kitchen knife and waved it at him. All the while, he shouted
in French.
Too startled to react, she
watched in horror as Payton, whose behavior had turned just as menacing, took a
few steps toward the chef. He shouted at Marcel in the same foreign language. The
other occupants in the kitchen, although just as startled as Julia, didn’t have
a problem rushing from the room.
The memory of Payton
pulling a knife from the chest of a dead man jolted her into action. She
grabbed his arm and attempted to drag him from the kitchen.
Marcel put the tip of
the knife next to his own ear. He uttered a swishing sound and motioned with
the blade across to his other ear. He waved the knife at Payton once more.
She understood his threat.
“What is he so upset about?”
Payton’s angry glare
faded when he looked at her. “He saw me coming out your window early this
morning.”
“Oh, dear.” She caught
her lower lip between her teeth. Marcel never spoke to Betsy, but she worried
just the same. “What’s he going to do?”
“He threatened to slit
my throat if I break your heart.”
“He’s worried about me?”
She felt a twinge of shame. Her only concern had been that he might tell Betsy about
Payton being in her room. “What did you say to him?”
“I told him it was none
of his business.”
“You shouldn’t have said
that. He’s always been kind to me.”
Marcel looked to be
about fifty years old. Gray hair stuck out from beneath his white cap. His
stature was slim and slight, but the intensity of his personality made up for his
lack of height.
“In some ways, he
reminds me of my grandfather.”
Payton’s anger vanished.
A smile tugged at his lips. “Then I guess I’ll have to tell him the truth.”
He turned back to Marcel
and spoke in a softer tone. His arm slipped around Julia. He glanced at her
occasionally while he conversed with the chef. She didn’t understand anything
he said, but the look in his eyes revealed the passion with which he spoke.
When he finished, Payton
gave her a kiss as gentle and as tender as the first they’d ever shared. He
released her slowly and walked out of the kitchen.
“This man—he treats you
good, no?”
“Marcel,” she said in surprise.
“You speak English.”
“But of course.”
“Then why haven’t you—”
“This woman—Betseé—she
is evil.” He paused long enough to cross himself in a religious gesture. “I
never speak with her. I cook what I please.” He spoke in French again, his tone
harsh until he once again spoke in English. His voice gentled. “This man, what
he say to me, it is how you feel also?”
She shrugged in
uncertainty. “I couldn’t understand anything he said. I only speak English.”
“Language does not
matter when a man speaks it from his heart. Do you not see? Or do you want I
should tell you?”
Julia wondered just how
much she wanted to know about Payton’s feelings for her, but she couldn’t
resist finding out. “Yes, please tell me.”
His expression changed
to something akin to Payton’s when he had spoken to Marcel about her. His tone
changed also, as though he imitated the sensual heat that had been noticeable
in Payton’s voice.
“He say, you are his
woman, his life, his love. He regrets that he must leave you for a while, but
he returns quickly. And when he does, he will take you from this place and
never more leave your side. For to him, you are like the stars in the heavens. Without
either, he is lost in darkness.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I’ve been looking
everywhere for you, Julia darling.”
A groan rumbled in her
throat, but she trapped it behind her pressed lips. She considered going back
into the kitchen to get away from Sylvia, but she had work to do. “I’m much too
busy to talk now.”
Sylvia ignored her
remark. “What did you do to the captain?”
“We didn’t do anything,”
she said quickly, hoping the heat creeping into her cheeks wasn’t noticeable.
“Then why did he leave
in such a rush without bothering to say goodbye?”
“Oh, has he gone?” She
tried to press a surprised look on her face.
“Yes, he has.” Sylvia
let out an exasperated sigh. “Have you quarreled again?”
“What makes you think we’ve
quarreled?” she asked vaguely.
“It’s written all over
your face. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes are...” She gripped Julia’s
wrist to prevent her from turning away. “There’s something different about you.
You have this peculiar rosy glow in your cheeks. And your hair has come loose
from your braid. If I didn’t know you better, I would think the captain has
just ravished you.”
Nervously, she smoothed
back her hair. “That’s absurd. I’ve been in the kitchen with Marcel.”
“He could have bent you
over the kitchen table and had his way with you there.”
“Don’t be crude.” She
jerked her arm free of Sylvia’s hold.
“I can’t help it if the
truth is crude. So tell me,” she asked eagerly, “did he take you there in the
kitchen?”
“Who? The captain? Or
Marcel?” Perhaps if her language reflected the same vulgarity as Sylvia’s, it
might cause her to abandon the subject. “You’re always saying how hot blooded
those Frenchmen can be. Perhaps Marcel lost his head and tossed me on the table
amidst the food and dirty dishes so he could have his way with me.”
“Oh,” she murmured, “that
does sound titillating, but more than likely, it was that hot-blooded captain. I
seriously doubt he would take you in the kitchen, though. He probably whisked
you off to some secluded spot for a quick tryst. I only hope he kept his wits
about him and took precautions.”
“You mean like locking
the door?” she asked in reflection of her earlier concern.
“No. I mean, like
preventing your pregnancy.”
Sylvia strolled away, a
smug look on her face. Julia knew shock appeared on hers. After making love to
Payton last night, and then this afternoon, a baby may very well be growing
inside her belly.
“Bloody hell,” she
whispered out loud. “What has that plundering pirate done to me?”
After she thought about it,
Julia realized she couldn’t blame her present predicament totally on Payton.
Last night she had been the one who’d started the seduction, the same as she’d
done just a short while ago.
As for taking
precautions, perhaps he didn’t know how to go about that anymore than she did.
Regardless, Payton wasn’t
the kind of man to shirk his responsibilities. If she did carry his child, she
knew exactly what he would do. He’d force her to go away somewhere with him so
he could set up a home for her and the baby. Then he’d sail off in his ship
while she waited for him to return to them every year or so.
That couldn’t be her
fate. Waiting for Payton to return, worrying about him everyday, would surely
kill her.
Being pregnant would
also interfere with her plan to find her brother’s murderer. She couldn’t very
well sneak about Betsy’s house with a large, protruding belly.
She shook her head to
chase away her thoughts. She wouldn’t worry about a child until discovering if she
was in that condition. That proof would happen soon enough. Just a few short
weeks. By then, she’d know for sure.
As if in a daze, she
went about her work. She instructed the servants to replace the trays when the
food disappeared. Ordered more wine brought up from the cellar when the supply
got low.
Some time had passed
before she noticed the activities around her. A commotion broke out amongst the
guest. Loud voices echoed across the yard, drawing her attention to a group of
about a dozen people gathered together on the far side. A lady shrieked in
horror. Julia saw a man stumble backward and fall to one knee.