Sea of Desire (23 page)

“To kill her?” Jared tried to control his
anger. “Who? Who hired you? Tell me or I’ll tear you limb from limb
with my bare hands.” Jared jerked the trembling man forward by the
front of his jacket, ready to do just that. He saw the slobbery
mouth quiver... open to speak.

And then a shot rang through the forest.

The highwayman’s body jerked, then went limp.
All that held him upright were Jared’s hands grasping his
bloodstained jacket. When Jared let go, the body slumped to the
ground. Stunned, Jared crouched down beside him, peering through
the darkness for any sign of who had fired the shot. The only
light, thrown off by the coach lanterns, was behind, silhouetting
him. Before him was darkness and shadows.

He waited, listening intently, the beat of
his heart pounding in his ears. Then from the rear he heard the
rustle of leaves. Shifting, Jared followed the sound of the
footsteps coming ever closer. When they were almost upon him he
turned and sprang, flattening the intruder beneath his body.

He heard a squeal and froze.

“What in the hell are you doing sneaking
around?” he whispered, lifting his head just enough to recognize
Merideth’s face.

“I wanted to see what happened. I heard a
shot.”

“Aye, you heard a shot. And ‘tis lucky you
didn’t take a musket ball yourself.”

“I also brought you the highwayman’s pistol,”
Merideth pointed out, not surprised when the captain quickly
grabbed for the gun.

“Stay here,” was all he said as he rose to a
crouch. But before he could move into the shadows, the clip-clop of
horses riding off came from the woods. Jared stood, and ran a few
paces toward the sound, stopping when the hoofbeats faded.

“I think they’re gone.”

“Who?” Merideth rolled over to get up. “Who’s
gone? What hap—” Her breath caught and she let out a shriek. Before
Jared could reach her, Merideth was on her feet, backing away from
the body sprawled on the ground.

“The highwayman,” Jared said, answering her
silent inquiry.

“Is he...?”

“Dead?” Bending down, Jared held his hand
over the man’s chest. “Aye.” He paused. “He was shot.”

“Shot? But you didn’t have a pistol.”

“
I
didn’t shoot him.”

“But how did he...?”

Jared shook his head in the direction of the
woods. “It appears one of his fellow highwaymen did the job.”

“Why would they do that?”

Jared hesitated only a moment. “I don’t
know.” Now was not the time to tell her what the assailant had said
before he’d died—before someone had stopped him from saying more.
“Let’s get out of here.” Jared turned Merideth away from her study
of the body. She was trembling when he touched her shoulder.

“Shouldn’t we...? We can’t just leave him
here.”

“I’ll send someone back to handle it.” His
arm draped around her. “Let’s see if we can find the driver.”

“He’s on the other side of the coach,”
Merideth said, but she held back, her attention uncontrollably
drawn to the dark heap on the side of the road. Another murdered
man. Before she’d met Captain Blackstone, the only dead people
she’d ever seen were victims of age and disease.

But since that night Jared Blackstone blew in
with the storm, there seemed no end to the violence she
witnessed—blank-eyed stares, chests abloom with crimson...

“Come on, Merideth.” Jared nudged her toward
the coach and she started moving. He found the driver propped
against a wheel, his knees pulled up and his head cradled in his
palms. There was a knot on the side of his head and blood matted on
his powdered wig, but he was able to stand. With help from
Merideth, Jared settled him inside the coach. “You ride with him,”
Jared ordered. “I’ll drive the coach.”

Outside of admitting to a terrible ache above
his ear, the driver had little to say as they jostled along the
road toward Passy. Once in the village, Jared steered the horses to
the Hôtel de Valentinois.

“We’ve a hurt man,” Merideth heard Captain
Blackstone announce as servants came toward the carriage. But she
didn’t stay to hear what else went on. Nearly unnoticed, she
slipped from the carriage and through the front door. Once inside
she sought out her room, stopping only once to assure Will that
nothing was amiss. He’d wandered into the hallway in his nightshirt
and stocking feet, rubbing at his eyes. With very little persuasion
he returned to his room.

Merideth envied him his innocence as she
closed her bedroom door behind her. Her bottom lip quivered as it
had threatened to do all evening—at least since her encounter with
Captain Blackstone. But she didn’t let herself surrender to
tears.

How long she stood there, clutching the back
of a brocaded chair, Merideth didn’t know. She tried to block what
had happened from her thoughts, but flashes of memory seared
through her mind.

The moment of fear when the highwayman aimed
the pistol at her. The blank expression in his lifeless eyes. And
always the captain. She could no more forget him, forget the dark
passion of his touch, than she could shy away from the other
realities.

The bedroom door opened and Merideth turned,
not in the least surprised to see Jared Blackstone standing there.
He paused for a moment, his form filling the entryway, then entered
the room, closing the door behind him.

“I’ve sent word to the authorities.”

Merideth merely nodded, wishing he would
speak no more of it. He seemed to understand her reluctance, for
his expression grew serious. Striding to the window, he pushed
aside the heavy silk drapes before asking, “Why would anyone want
you dead?”

“Dead?” Merideth couldn’t help being taken
aback by his question. “I... I... That’s preposterous. No one wants
me dead.”

For long moments, during which Merideth
forgot to breathe, he stared at her, his sea-green eyes searching.
Then he shrugged, seemingly accepting her contention. Without
another word he advanced on her, his pace steady. Merideth
retreated one step, then—when she saw the unbridled passion in his
expression—another. The chair separated them, but he skirted it
easily, grabbing her shoulders when she turned to reach for the
door.

“Don’t. I don’t want you to—” He silenced the
remainder of her denial with his lips, pressing them firmly to
hers. Her halfhearted attempts to push him away proved futile. His
body engulfed her... he engulfed her. His smell, his taste, the
feel of his work-roughened hands on her skin, proved as tantalizing
as before.

This, this is why she’d allowed him to touch
her in the coach, the answer to the question that nagged at her.
She simply couldn’t help herself. Even now, as the feel of his
fingers unfastening her gown sent warnings to her mind, she
couldn’t resist him.

Her hands tangled in the rough silk of his
hair, loosening the black ribbon and freeing the raven locks. His
head dipped to her throat and he nudged aside her gold locket,
wetting the small hollow of skin beneath with his tongue.
Merideth’s pulse raced, her body arched, and the craving
intensified.

When the silvery-blue silk slipped from her
shoulders, Merideth felt no remorse. His gaze raked her, sweeping
over the distended nipples that pressed against the fine linen of
her shift. His fingers spread, covering her upper chest, pushing
aside the fabric. When his thumbs scraped over the sensitive nubs,
Merideth moaned a siren song of surrender.

“You like that.” There was no question in his
voice, nothing but a simple declaration of fact, as his thumbs
circled, then whisked across, her flesh.

She should protest. Deep in the recesses of
her mind, Merideth knew no good could come from this. She stood,
clutching his broad shoulders while he caressed her. He, fully
dressed in his black waistcoat, the untamed fall of raven hair and
dark, heavy-lidded eyes the only break from his civilized attire.
While she displayed herself for him, her breasts bared, begging for
his touch, her curls a tangle across her naked shoulders.

But objecting was beyond her. All she could
do was acquiesce. His mouth replaced the gentle rub of his thumb,
the moist heat making her knees tremble and the ache deep inside
grow stronger.

With practiced hands the corset ties came
undone, freeing even more of her flesh to his touch, his mouth. The
gown drifted to the carpeted floor on a whisper of silk, followed
by the shift and petticoats.

When she stood before him in nothing but
clocked stockings and satin slippers, Jared skimmed his hands down
over her hips. “You are so beautiful,” he said, his voice thick. Up
and down, his fingers roamed over her satin-soft skin, brushing her
ribs, then rounding to shape her buttocks.

Merideth watched him, her eyes no more than
blue slits, her breathing shallow. Everywhere he touched she
burned.

“I want you.” His hand filtered down her
stomach and Merideth gasped as it tangled in the delta of tight
curls. Her body quivered, tight as a bowstring, fraught with
anticipation. She knew what he could do to her with just the touch
of a finger. She longed for the release he had given her in the
coach. But though she arched, inviting him to further exploration,
he hesitated.

Merideth tried to control her breathing, but
it came in short gulps. She swallowed, poised... waiting... but
still he didn’t move.

“Touch me.” The words were softly spoken, and
Merideth wasn’t certain she’d heard him until his hand closed over
hers. Then he was guiding, filling her fingers with the rock-hard
proof of his passion.

His dark lashes drifted shut, closing off the
primal vestige of desire. But Merideth had seen, and she gloried in
it all the while her caress measured his length.

The swoop of his mouth caught her by
surprise, but she matched his ardor, matched the sensual dance of
his tongue, as her fingers stretched to surround him.

She was off her feet before she knew what he
was about. The bed was high with a fanciful tester and gold
brocaded hangings. He deposited her in the center, then turned to
shuck off his waistcoat. His cravat followed, then his shirt.

Merideth watched unabashedly as he yanked off
his breeches and boots. He stood before her, splendid in his dark
beauty, and she could do naught but reach for him. Taking her hand,
Jared brushed his lips across her knuckles, then placed them, palms
flat, on his chest while he reached for the ribbons holding her
stockings.

The dark pelt of hair enticed, curled around
her fingers as Merideth slid them across his chest. She skimmed the
hard nub of his breast and he sucked in air. His movements
quickened, sweeping the white stockings over her toes and tossing
them to the floor.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he said, and
Merideth couldn’t agree more. She longed to have him touch her like
he had earlier. Her body arched, but instead of the magic of
before, he settled atop her.

At first she found his weight an oddity, but
then he kissed her and all but the most sensual of thoughts escaped
her.

Jared wanted to go slowly, to savor being
with her to its fullest. From the first time he’d seen her he’d
thought of this, of how her skin would feel, like warmed silk. And
how the heat of her would drive him insane. When he’d seen her
tonight, radiant in her finery, dancing, smiling, flirting, he’d
been incensed. Other men knew what he’d only dreamed of.

She was a traitor; at this moment he didn’t
care. She had parlayed her body for secrets. But the only secret he
knew was told him by the highwayman moments before he died. A
secret he would tell her anyway. But not now.

He’d reached the limits of his endurance.

“Lift your legs.” Jared whispered his
request, not surprised when she complied immediately. She was a
passionate lover, free and giving with her favors. He sank into the
cradle of her body, pressing against her heat. His first thrust
penetrated but slightly, and Jared sucked in his breath at the
pleasure that shot through him. Anxious to experience all the
satisfaction she could offer, he pushed.

And stopped cold.

Resting his weight on his elbows, Jared tried
again, his passion-drugged mind barely comprehending the barrier he
felt. He’d been so certain she was an experienced courtesan, a
seductress who traded her delectable body for a traitor’s secrets.
But the proof that she wasn’t couldn’t be denied.

“What... what is it?” Merideth knew there was
something amiss, but she couldn’t imagine what she’d done wrong.
But he stared at her, a strange expression darkening his handsome
features. And his wonderful caresses had stopped. She wanted them
to continue. Her body moved, seemingly of its own accord, and she
felt the captain stiffen, but not before a sharp pain tore through
her.

“Oh.” Tears filled her eyes and she tried to
blink them away. But one rolled down the side of her face. With the
pad of his thumb, Jared brushed it away.