Love's Vengeance (34 page)

“No, don’t speak with her. It would probably only make matters worse.” Desiree decided with a sigh, reaching for his drink and downing a healthy amount.

Stephen lifted a brow as she gulped down the strong whiskey without so much as a grimace, “You are upset! Tell me—what exactly did she say on the matter?” He took the drink from her hand, testing the contents himself.

“She told me I was no better than a trollop. That you would tire of me soon enough and cast me aside without a thought.” she admitted, glaring at him, demanding a response with her expression.

“First of all, you are no trollop and I don’t want to hear that again. And secondly…” he paused and looked at her thoughtfully, “You know—you leave me no space for a buffer. You make me tell you every thought, every feeling—it leaves me quite exposed. I don’t much like giving that leverage into your hands but—if I must—so be it.” he sighed heavily, “I have no intention of casting you to the side. I care for you very much and you know that. Would I have come back to Portsmouth if I didn’t care? Would I have come to Nevis if I didn’t care? Would I be constantly baring my soul to you if I didn’t care? I will not tire of you and I will not cast you from my life. You shall have a devil of a time getting rid of me.” he frowned, “Is that good enough or must I go on?”

Desiree kissed him tenderly, “That’s good enough. I believe you. Bridgett will come around in time.”

“Well—since we seem to have the entire evening together, how about we—” he paused for effect, “have us a match of chess? We can play winner take all!” he added with a sly smile.

“Take all what?” she questioned with a knitted brow.

“Whatever they wish!” he leered, “And that shall be my option as you have yet to best me!”

“We shall see! I have improved you know. Red and I played quite often on the island.” Desiree teased, moving from his lap and taking a seat at the table while he brought the board.

“As you said—we shall see.” He challenged with a cocky grin.

***

Much later, Desiree ran her hands across the expanse of Stephen’s shoulders, noting the smooth dark skin in sharp contrast to the light curls at the nape of his neck. His lips caressed her throat, her shoulder, moving downward.

“Stephen?” she questioned, touching his soft curly hair.

“Shhhhh!” he silenced her, continuing down to her breast with his lips.

“Stephen!”

He lifted his head, narrowing his eyes threateningly, “Desiree I am attempting to make love to you as is my right by my victory! Please at least allow me the courtesy of feigning interest. Humor me!” he quipped, sinking his teeth gently into her nipple.

“Stephen! I want to talk! Humor me!” she demanded, covering her breasts with her hands.

He growled but moved to her side, resting his head upon his hand and gazing down into her eyes, “What would you care to discuss pray tell?” he gritted between clenched teeth with an affected strained smile.

“Have you had many conquests?” she asked, turning on her side, resting her head upon her own hand and smiling sweetly with mere inches between their faces.

“
Conquests
—as in battles? As in discovery of foreign lands?” he queried with feigned ignorance.

“
As in women!
Have you had many?” She clarified, not appreciating his humor.

“You little devil!” He chuckled, placing a soft kiss upon her mouth.

“Tell me!” She prodded.

“No!” he stated simply with a widening of his eyes and a slight shake of his head.

Desiree nipped at his chin with her teeth and repeated, “Tell me.”

“No! I am not about to discuss my previous relations with you. It is unimportant and ungentlemanly.” He dismissed the idea, rolling to his back and averting her gaze.

Desiree rose up on all fours, crawling atop him. She straddled his frame and caressed his chest with her breasts. “Tell me.” She hissed, leaning down and kissing him with abandon, possessing his mouth with her own.

His breath caught as without warning her fingers closed around him, drawing him to her warmth.

“Tell me Stephen.” She whispered, moving languidly as she gently tugged at his lower lip with her teeth.

His hands moved over her back, his eyes smoldering as he tried to increase her maddeningly slow rhythm by guiding her hips and lifting to meet her. Desiree sat back; stopping the motion completely and he groaned and whispered hoarsely, “What was the question?”

She leaned down to caress his ear with her lips, kissing along his jaw and down his neck as she began once more to move with agonizing slowness, “Have you had many women?”

“After—I’ll discuss it after. Please!” He pleaded with a chuckle.

“Tell me.” She warned softly, enjoying the control she had over him.

“Yes I have had my fair share.” He groaned.

“Have you been in love many times?” she asked, with a sudden added sideways movement.

“Damn!” He breathed raggedly, grasping her arms and pulling her over as he rolled on top.

***

“Good God you are a vixen!” Stephen declared sometime later, kissing her soundly and moving beside her, “Where did you learn those tactics?” He wondered this with a comical and suspicious sidelong glance.

“What are you insinuating,
Monsieur
?” She challenged, coming to her knees once more and moving over him.

“Nothing! Please—not again! Have mercy on this poor old sailor!” He pleaded in mock terror.

“Oh you! You are impossible!” Desiree stated, rolling her eyes heavenward and then laying down again within his arms.

“Did you? Love any of those women?” she questioned while running her hand over his chest, without looking into his eyes.

Stephen sighed heavily, looking up at the timbers above. She was forever putting him on the spot, delving deeper into his life and although it was what he had hoped to attain—a comfortable knowledge of one another; she left him ill at ease with this particular subject. It would serve no good purpose. Only build resentment, perhaps even cause doubts in her mind but she left him with no options. He would speak the truth if it came to that.

“Desiree why all these questions?” he released his breath wearily, “Why would you want to know something like that—because of Bridgett’s tirade?”

“Curiosity—that is all.” Desiree admitted softly. In truth though she had noted that at least one thing Bridgett said was true. He did have a string of entanglements behind him.

“Well I think it is something more. I fear you are planning to punish me for her words, when I have done nothing to earn such.”

“You sound as though you don’t trust me Stephen.” She quipped innocently.

He chuckled in amazement, “Not so long ago my sweet you made me pay dearly for my words and deeds. I fear I may be slitting my own throat with my answers to such questions.”

“Why? You have been in love many times—haven’t you? A string of broken hearts left in your wake?” She spat hotly, moving quickly away from him and sitting up on her heels.

Stephen sat up just as quickly, facing her, “See what I mean? You have just taken the offensive, ready to fight! You seem determined to have this out—fine! So be it! I have never had even as much as an infatuation. And if you fear we share something that many others have also shared with me, it could not be any further from the truth! I have
never
shared with another woman, what I have come to depend upon you for. There is no string of broken hearts in my past—only unimportant moments of passion as quickly forgotten as the act itself was accomplished!”

Desiree lifted her nose a notch with an expression of disgust, “That sounds very sordid. So you are saying it means nothing to you? You sail the high seas, taking women on a whim without caring in the slightest?” She yanked the sheet away from his body, draping it across her bosom, hiding her charms from his view and bounded out of the bed, taking the sheet with her, while he grabbed and caught only thin air. She swaddled herself in the sheet, tucking the end in her cleavage and moved to sit at his desk chair, facing him.

Stephen noted that angry flames leapt from the violet depths, awaiting—demanding a response. He rose from the bed with an angry growl and a shake of his head, searching for something to cover his nakedness. He retrieved a discarded towel from a chair, wrapping it about his hips and tucking it in upon itself. He then came to stand before her at the desk, gesturing with flourish. “If you thought I had a care for every woman I ever bedded then you could accept it, is that it? I doubt it highly!” He answered his own question, “I don’t know what you expect me to say! What is the point of this?” He dropped to his knees before her, his hands resting on either side of her hips in the overlarge seat, leaning against her knees and glaring up into the icy violet depths.

Desiree could not say for sure. Was it fear of her unknown place in his life? Jealousy that others had lain with him—or simply Bridgett’s words shaking her confidence? She shrugged her shoulders, noncommittally, dropping her eyes to her hands in her lap and Stephen reached out, covering both her hands with his own.

“For a man of my age I can hardly claim innocence, Desiree. But I care for you, I want you and if you do not know that by now, then apparently you find me lacking in expressing myself.”

Her eyes lifted to his and their expressions softened. He touched the soft flesh of her upper arm lightly with the back of his index finger and smiled gently, “I do not want to feel it necessary to defend myself when I have done nothing wrong Desiree. You are all I want. That is what matters and if you don’t except that, then take your revenge upon me but just remember—whom I may or may not have had in the past has no bearing upon our relationship whether Bridgett believes it does or not. I swear to you, I give you my oath, I have been with no other since you came into my world.” He finished sincerely.

Desiree felt her anger take flight. He was always so wise, so truthful, and so right. Why was she acting the jealous mate; as though she had any right to do so? It mattered not and was, in reality, none of her business. It was not her nature to be so possessive and was most unbecoming.

“I am sorry Stephen. I have no cause to act so childish. I show my age I suppose. Please forgive me.” She said lowering her eyes. She was surprised to hear Stephen chuckle and he rose before her, dropped the towel and then scooped her from the chair and carried her back to bed.

“Jealousy is not a matter of age, nor a matter of experience or the lack of it. It has to do with feelings Desiree, it is a sign of caring and at least I know you care for me a bit. But let me tell you a little secret…” He paused, falling back onto the bed with her in his arms. He assisted her as she unwound herself from the sheet and between them, they shook it out, covering themselves and he rolled atop her as he continued, “I am not immune. Although I was as positive as a man can be of your purity before our first encounter—had I found that to have been untrue, you would have seen jealousy that would have terrified you.” He kissed her gently.

“It matters to you that no other…”

“It pleases me to know that no other had gone before.” He assured, stroking her hair at her temples. “In fact, since we seem to be making this a night for honesty and voicing concerns, something has troubled me since I set out for Nevis—it matters very much that no others have gone after.” His voice was somber.

“You are serious?” she gasped incredulously.

“Well you were there for some time and you were a captive…” He let the sentence dangle.

She could not resist teasing him and looked away dramatically, biting her lower lip, then speaking softly; “True I was a prisoner—unsure of my fate. I had to use my—womanly wiles to try and ensure my life would be spared. Are you sure you want to hear this?” She queried as she tried to look sorrowful and ashamed, unable to meet his gaze.She watched as his tanned face seemed to turn a shade darker and his eyes narrowed.

“If you are making light of this I suggest you think again for I will kill the bastard that laid a hand on you!” he rasped quietly.

When Desiree continued to avoid answering the question and refused to look him in the eyes, he took her face gently in his hands, forcing her to look at him. His need for assurance that she hadn’t becoming a conviction that indeed she
could not
have.

“You would not have lain with another and appeared so casual in their presence! I know that by my own experience!” He paused as a thought dawned on him, “Unless you cared a great deal—such as Red or perhaps that O’Malley fellow! Christ they are old enough to be your father—your
grandfather
! Damn it, say something Desiree!”

Desiree was amazed by the anger—even rage she saw upon his face. She smiled innocently, “No other has gone where you have been Stephen but you have shown me that indeed jealousy is neither a matter of age nor experience. I don’t feel so foolish now for it appears we both have a possessive nature.”

His expression softened in relief and he kissed her soundly, “You are a cruel wench, putting me through that. Your state plagued me the entire voyage to Nevis. I was beside myself with worry and have wondered and worried on it since I brought you away from there. Please Desiree, unless you want me to put some poor beggar in an early grave—don’t jest about that again.”

He turned to his back and Desiree lay in the crook of his arm, both looking to the timbers above. He breathed deeply and she could feel the tension leaving his body.

“I’m sorry Stephen.”

His kissed her forehead, “Forgiven. So tell me, have you loved any of those you have had?” He asked lightly, wetting his fingers and stretching out his hand to douse the light at the bedside, casting the room into darkness.

“Somehow that question is neither as broad nor as impersonal as when I asked it of you.” Desiree quipped with a laugh, nuzzling against his neck.

“But valid.” He continued with a chuckle.

He was asking for an admission of love, when she had not asked or received such from him. She was not ready or able to admit this to him. She was unsure of his French vocabulary, whether it was more advanced than he claimed, so she spoke a simple disjointed, two-sided remark, “
Etre clair, est etre et fermer
.” she whispered.