Captive of My Desires (13 page)

“Your ship is docked in London, I take it?” At his nod, she asked, “What’s her name?”

“The Triton
. She’s a beauty, sleek, and fast for her size,” he said with obvious pride.

“How long have you captained her?”

“I was twenty when I first took command of her,” he replied.

“Isn’t that a name from Greek mythology?”

“Indeed. Most of our ships carry similar names. Our father named all the ones my brothers and I command, so you might guess, he loved Greek mythology.”

“Rather prestigious names, though,” she said, then chuckled. “I’m hesitant to mention the name of my father’s ship. There’s simply no comparison.”

“Oh, come now. You’ve sparked my curiosity, so you have to confess.”

“The Crusty Jewel.”

“Ah, symbolic of nothing?”

“On the contrary. Chasing down treasure is his passion, and if, no,
when
he finally finds that pot of gold, as it were, he expects the chest to be full of old coins and jewels, all quite crusty from being buried for centuries.”

She was pleased to note his smile was understanding. He could have gotten nasty there about her father, but remarkably, he’d been on his best behavior all day. Teasing, charming, and not a single mention of pirates.

He noticed one of the rowboats heading back toward the dock where they could be rented and mentioned that boat ride again, so they turned to head back. But he’d no sooner said it than the first raindrops hit them.

“So much for that,” he mumbled. “Hurry, it’s going to be pouring in a minute.”

It was less than a minute. The deluge came almost immediately after he mentioned it. Everyone in the park was racing in one direction or another to get out of the rain. But there was simply no way she could run in the constraints of her outing dress and new petticoats, not without hiking up the skirt. She tried, though, to keep up with him, since he’d grabbed her hand to run, but he soon noticed her problem. Rather than just give up and accept the fact that they were going to be drenched before they reached the coach, he surprised her by sweeping her into his arms. He was able to run much faster then, even carrying her.

They were still drenched. As soon as they were inside the coach, they both began to laugh at their sorry state.

“That was quite chivalrous of you, but we’re still soaked!” she said.

He paused in removing his jacket to brush a lock of wet hair off her cheek, making her realize that her coiffure was completely undone, wet locks scattered down her back and chest. Putting a hand to the top of her head, she exclaimed, “Oh, no, I seem to have lost my hat, too! What rotten luck, it was my favorite.”

“Hold on,” Drew said, and ran back outside.

She tried to stop him, but he seemed not to hear her. He wasn’t gone long, though, and he shouted at the driver, “Back to Berkeley Square!” before he reentered the coach and dropped a very bedraggled hat on the seat beside her. “See what I’m willing to do for you!”

That was rather unexpected. “Thank you,” she said as she gave the ruined hat a forlorn look. “I might be able to salvage the feathers, after they dry.”

“I’d buy a new one, but that’s just me.”

She chuckled and glanced up at him, then drew in her breath. He’d finished removing his jacket. His white lawn shirt was plastered to his skin, revealing every sinewy muscle across his wide chest and powerful arms. Her eyes met his and the laughter died abruptly. She barely had time to notice the heat in his gaze before his arms were around her and he was kissing her.

Oh, God, she’d known instinctively that a kiss from him would be more exciting than she could imagine. Again and again, his lips moved softly across hers, drawing her carefully into his sensual web. She couldn’t think, didn’t want to. And then his tongue gently nudged her mouth open and suddenly the kiss was much more intense, infinitely more tantalizing. There was so much passion in his kiss now that she felt a moment’s alarm…

“Drew, I don’t think—”

“Don’t think,” he cut in. “Just let me warm you. You’re freezing.”

Was she? She hadn’t noticed! But his mouth returned to hers and the passion was immediately there again. She wrapped her arms about his neck. He cradled her head with one hand while the other was rubbing up and down her back, but also pushing her toward him so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. If she could have gotten any closer to him, she would have.

When they finally separated, the air felt like steam between them. It’s possible it was, they’d generated so much heat while kissing each other. She didn’t even realize they’d reached the Malory townhouse until Drew took her hand, helped her down from the coach, and led her to the door. He could have done anything he’d wanted with her there in that coach, she’d been so inflamed by what he’d made her feel, but all he’d done was kiss her—and warm her in such an exciting, delightful way. Later, she would be grateful that’s all he’d done. But right then, she was just disappointed that the ride had ended.

“See, I’ve brought you home safe and sound,” he said with a tender smile.

She didn’t get a chance to reply. Someone suddenly hailed her and she turned to find the Honorable Wilbur Carlisle stepping out of his carriage.

What rotten timing for Wilbur to discover he had the courage to enter the lion’s den after all. “Good grief,” she said, glancing down at her bedraggled state. “I need to change first. I don’t want him to see me drenched like this. Can you explain to him what happened, Drew?”

“Deal with one of your suitors?” he said. “Not a chance, sweetheart—unless you’d like me to tell him you’ve taken yourself off the marriage mart?”

“No, I haven’t—unless you’re asking me to marry you?”

He merely laughed and opened the door for her. “Go dry off. I’ll have Artie inform your young swain that you’ll be keeping him waiting for a while.”

W
ILBUR DIDN’T MIND WAITING FOR HER AT ALL,
or so he claimed when she joined him later. Still annoyed that Drew had laughed when she’d mentioned marriage to him, she wasn’t removing any names from her list just yet. So she was glad to see that Wilbur had come to call. His confession last night, of why he hadn’t come around sooner, had smacked of cowardice which had disturbed her. But that he’d shown up despite his fears indicated he had a good deal of courage after all.

That night Georgina took her to a dinner party, a rather large one. She met a young earl for the first time who would have made a fine addition to her list, but she was quickly warned by several ladies that while he’d been a prime catch, he’d gotten engaged early in the Season. A shame. Arriving at the end of the Season really did have its disadvantages.

There were quite a few bachelors who were still available and they flocked to her as usual to vie for her attention. She caught Drew glowering at her at one point. Jealous? She’d like to think so, but she couldn’t get it out of her mind, how he’d laughed at the subject of marriage. She wasn’t giving up on him. After those heated moments with him in the coach today, she was more determined than ever to move him to the top of her list. She just guessed it was going to take much more than their brief acquaintance to get him to seriously consider marriage. But today had certainly been a good start.

“Whatever became of your father? I’d heard he was lost at sea.”

Lady Dunstan, one of the pillars of London society whom she’d met earlier that week, had whisked her away from her many admirers and out to the terrace for a quick stroll. She’d been telling Gabrielle about the upcoming ball that she was giving. Lady Dunstan had wanted to personally make sure she would be attending it, since she was such an unexpected success, so late in the Season.

But that question took her by surprise, unrelated as it was to their discussion of the ball. “No indeed,” Gabrielle answered. “I’ve been living with him in the Caribbean ever since my mother died. He has no reason to return to England now that she’s gone.”

“Of course. I hadn’t considered that. I’m glad to know he’s still alive. Why, I’d never met him! Wanted to, though, since I knew your mother. But he always seemed to be off sailing here or there. What was it that kept him a—”

“Ah, so here you are!” Georgina interrupted, and put her arm through Gabrielle’s. “Come inside, m’dear. There’s a new arrival you simply must meet. If you’ll excuse us, Lady Dunstan? So looking forward to your upcoming ball!”

Georgina quickly pulled her away, whispering, “From what I just heard, I’d say I rescued you in the nick of time. That lady is a notorious gossip. I should have mentioned it sooner. You didn’t tell her anything about your father that we’d rather not be known, did you?”

“No.”

“Good. Try to avoid her if you can, and if you can’t, simply prevaricate! Be as scatterbrained as you have to, but do not tell her anything that she can sink her teeth into.”

Gabrielle understood and avoided the lady for the rest of the evening. Later that night, as Margery helped her out of her evening gown, she debated discussing the situation with her and trying to come up with a suitable occupation for her father. Carla had married him thinking he was in trade, but most of the ton would frown on that nearly as much as if they learned he was a pirate. Obviously, her mother had avoided the subject with her friends. She supposed she could simply do the same.

She assumed the soft rap on the door was Georgina. The two previous nights she’d come by after they got home, to find out if she’d enjoyed the evening, and if any of the young men she’d met had appealed to her. She hadn’t met any new men tonight other than that young earl who was already taken. But she’d mentioned Wilbur to Georgina just last night. The lady had probably heard that he’d come by today and wanted to know if her interest had grown as a result of his visit.

So it was quite a nice surprise to find Drew on the other side of the door, rather than his sister. She certainly wasn’t prepared to see him, though, and was literally holding her gown up with a hand over her breasts. And Margery practically slammed the door in his face until she was presentable again, quickly fastening her gown back up.

Gabrielle called out for him to wait. He did. When she opened the door again, he asked, “Care for a nightcap?”

She raised a brow. After the way he’d glowered at her tonight and hadn’t said a single word to her on the ride home, this was certainly unexpected. But it was another golden opportunity she simply couldn’t pass up. She still wanted to explore the possibility of becoming more “friendly” with him, to find out if it was even possible after his reaction today to her mention of marriage.

“Why yes, thank you,” she replied, and then added with a grin, “I’ve really missed my daily portion of rum.”

He chuckled and extended an arm for her to precede him down the hall. She’d only been teasing about the daily portion of rum, but she had a feeling he thought she was serious. In fact, considering what he seemed to think about her, he probably assumed she was used to imbibing strong spirits. Ah, well, he had a lot to learn about her, and she hoped to give him the opportunity, because Drew Anderson had most definitely moved from the bottom of her eligibles list to the top.

She was so centered on the man walking behind her, she didn’t even notice that Margery had followed them downstairs until they reached the parlor and she heard the maid yawn loudly. The house was quiet at that time of night. Most of the servants had gone to bed. She knew if she suggested to Margery that she do the same, she’d get a stern refusal. Margery took her chaperoning seriously.

A low fire had been left in the parlor, lit earlier just to take the chill off the room. Only one lamp had been left on, and it, too, had been turned down low. The heat still wasn’t enough for Gabrielle, so she moved to stand in front of the fireplace, was even considering stoking the fire a bit more, but Drew distracted her as he looked over the contents of the bar in the corner of the room.

“As I thought, no rum in this house. Your choices are cognac, brandy, or port.”

“Port sounds interesting,” she replied. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”

“Because it’s more a man’s drink,” Margery put in as she made herself comfortable in one of the reading chairs by the window. “And I’ll have one, too, since you’re keeping me from my bed.”

He glanced at Margery. It looked like he wanted to laugh, his dark eyes sparkled so in the lamplight as he brought her a drink first. He wasn’t even looking at Gabrielle and yet her belly started to flutter!

He returned to the bar and took his time pouring two more glasses for them. He kept glancing back at Margery. Gabrielle had a feeling that he was hoping Margery would fall asleep, which was quite possible considering the late hour.

He finally joined her by the fire, handed her the port, then clicked their glasses together. “A toast, sweetheart,” he said in a low, stirring voice, and his grin turned somewhat wicked. “To behaving like pirates.”

The endearment went right to her heart, caused a warmth to spread along her veins—or maybe the first sip of the drink did that. It didn’t last, though. Too quickly she recalled he’d used that same endearment on the docks when he prevented her fall, and other times when he was being sarcastic, so obviously it meant nothing special to him, it was just the way he addressed all women. He could as easily have called her “miss,” or even her name. That’s how unromantic the word was to him.

And then it hit her. He’d toasted to their behaving like pirates? Did he really say that? The remark he’d made the other night at the ball came back to her. He’d wanted her to prove she was a pirate by spending the night with him. Was that the reason he’d shown up at her door with his invitation? Was he going to make another overture? Maybe even kiss her again?

Her heart started to pound with excitement. She barely even noticed him leading her to the sofa, sitting her down, setting her glass on the table in front of them. She shivered. He noticed.

“Cold?”

She was so flustered she had to think about the question. They’d moved away from the fire, so yes, she was cold, and yet, she wasn’t. Because of him. He was sitting so close to her their legs nearly touched and she could feel the heat of his body. She smiled. It was more than enough to warm her.

“No, I’m not cold a’tall,” she replied.

“Really?”

He seemed genuinely surprised by her answer, which made her realize that he now associated that shiver he’d witnessed with himself. And since it was too late to correct her denial, she blushed.

She glanced toward Margery for help or at least a distraction, but the late hour, or the drink, had proven too much for her. She was fast asleep. So Gabrielle tried to wash her embarrassment away with a gulp of port and ended up downing the entire glass. Well, that helped indeed. It no longer felt like she was blushing and, in fact, it seemed silly now that she’d blushed at all.

Her giggle told him the same thing…Oh, good grief, she’d just giggled. She
never
giggled. She found that funny and did it again.

“Not used to port?” he guessed aloud.

“No, rum is more my cup of tea.”

“Teetotaler you mean, don’t you?” he teased with a warm grin.

“Yes. I mean no.” She sighed, shaking her head. “Don’t try to confuse me. I’m used to strong spirits, really. Just in moderation.”

He ran a finger gently along her cheek. “You’ve softened, Gabby. I noticed it immediately last night. But today, God, that was nice, wasn’t it? Dare I hope you’ve given my suggestion some thought?”

“What suggestion would that be?”

He leaned closer, and still his voice was soft, almost a whisper. “Do I really need to repeat it?”

As if she could forget that remark that had plagued her thoughts ever since he uttered it. But that was a temptation she had to resist. It would come to her in a moment
why
she had to resist. The port was muddling her…Oh, yes, she wanted him thinking about marriage, not just bedding her.

“You do know I’m not
really
a pir—”

She’d turned her face toward his to explain, but it wasn’t a good time to do that. He was still too close. And it ended up appearing as if she’d brushed her lips against his deliberately, when that wasn’t the case at all. But he was quick to take advantage of the accident, pressing his mouth more firmly to hers. And she was quick to lose herself in the moment.

Had she really thought that the passion that had flared between them today had been because of the circumstances that led up to it? No indeed. Those same passionate feelings were present again now and so swiftly! It was them. It happened the moment their lips touched.

His arm went around her neck, cradling her head against his shoulder, as his lips moved possessively over hers. Her hand came up to cup his cheek. And when his tongue slipped into her mouth, her fingers moved up into his hair, gripping the soft locks as if she were afraid he was going to stop.

He did stop, but only to change direction as his lips slashed across her cheek and down her neck. She gasped. Shivers raced across her flesh as he sucked on that sensitive area. She felt pressure on her breasts at the same time and realized he was touching her there…

He shouldn’t be. She had to tell him. She started to, but got no farther than opening her mouth before another gasp escaped her when her nipples puckered beneath his palm. She felt so much heat, from him, from herself. And that tingling in her breasts seemed to travel straight down between her legs.

“I knew you were a pirate,” he said just before his tongue delved into her ear, causing her arms to go around his neck so she could embrace him, encourage him. “God, Gabby! Why did you try to hide this wild nature of yours beneath that ladylike facade? I love it! You want me as much as I want you, don’t you?”

She was close to moaning. She couldn’t think. The sensations coursing through her were overwhelming every one of her senses. She could see his dark eyes glinting with desire, she heard the sounds of satisfaction he was making deep in his throat, she inhaled his heady masculine scent. She tasted him with every kiss, and the way he was touching her, caressing her felt so good she wished he’d never stop. When she couldn’t help but moan with pleasure, his mouth came quickly back to hers for the deepest kiss yet. Oh, God. How could she feel so many different sensations all at once?

All her good intentions, all her hopes, had gone right out the door, she was so entranced by Drew’s skilled seduction. She didn’t have the will to stop him, didn’t want to, couldn’t even muster a token protest.

So it was a blessing in disguise to hear Boyd complain, “Here now, none of that. Or are your intentions honorable, brother?”

Drew leaned back slightly, enough to break the contact, but then, as if he couldn’t resist, he gave her one more kiss, his lips lingering deliciously on hers before he turned to snarl at his brother, “Shouldn’t you be minding your own damned business?”

“Shouldn’t you be keeping your hands to yourself?” Boyd countered with a snarl of his own. “And this
is
my business. The girl is here to acquire a husband. So are you suddenly eligible?”

Gabrielle’s embarrassment to have been caught in such a torrid embrace was acute. And sobering. She would have liked to hear the answer to Boyd’s question as well, but on second thought decided she better not. A no from Drew right now might force her to strike his name from her list, whereas not knowing either way, she could at least continue her campaign to get to know him better.