Desire and Deception (35 page)

Lauren's eyes flew open. She was startled by his
question,
and by the intensity of Jason's blue gaze when she saw the long, searching look he was giving her. "I plan to stay in New Orleans. Why do you ask?"

"Because the legalities of transferring the bulk of your inheritance will have to betaken care of in England.
Of course, if you mean to stay in New Orleans for any length of time, I can handle the whole. But it will only be a few more months before you have charge of the Carlin Line."

"But I don't want it. I have everything I want right now."

"Everything?
What about the ship you intend to buy?"

Lauren absently pressed a hand to her temple, thinking how ironic it was that she was refusing a fortune in ships. Once she had been willing to give ten years of her life to have what he was holding out to her. "That's different. That will be my
own business."

"Yet even if you can afford a vessel, you'll need to know how to choose a worthy one. And you'll need to know about buying and selling the goods she'll carry."

"I plan to employ an able captain."

"And you have the experience to hire one?"

"No, but I'll manage. And I won't take the Carlin Line."

Jason's brows drew together. "Would you like to tell me why?"

"I didn't earn it," she said lamely, feeling a prick of guilt at all the half-truths she would be forced to tell in order to maintain the charade.

There was a long silence while Jason stared down at her. Lauren endured his contemplation in silence, wondering uncomfortably if he could somehow read her mind. At last he said softly, "You don't earn an inheritance, Lauren. It is left to you. Your father meant for you to have his fortune. He stated so in his will. And Burroughs left you his share of the Carlin Line."

"I don't want it," she returned just as softly. "If you insist, I'll give it all
to
some worthy charity."

He paused,
then
shook his head. "As your trustee I would have to object. No charity would be set up to run the Carlin Line, nor would they have the expertise. Lauren . . ."

As if unable to prevent himself, he leaned closer. His face was only inches from hers, and she could feel his warm breath softly caressing her face. "Lauren," he breathed in barely a whisper, his intimate tone arousing a flickering heat in her. "I want your trust, Lauren.
Your love."
His hand came up, his fingertips gently brushing her cheek. "I want to share mine with you. Marry me, sweetheart."

Lauren's lashes fluttered down to cover her eyes, hiding her tormented thoughts. What he was suggesting was impossible. Even if she could forget her mother's hitter experience, even if she could convince herself that Jason wanted her rather than the Carlin ships, she couldn't accept his proposal without confessing who she really was. And she wasn't ready to trust him that much.

Besides, there was the factor of her illegitimacy. What
would Jason say if he knew she was a bastard? He might be a renegade, but he was still a nobleman's son. Her origins would prevent her from making a respectable marriage with a man of his station.

Carefully, she forced all emotion from her reply. "I can't marry you, Jason."

"Why not?"

"Please . . . I just can't."

His thumb moved slowly over her lips, tracing the soft outline. "You don't trust me, do you?"

Trapped by his tender gaze, Lauren gazed back at him in anguish. She didn't want to trust him. How often had she heard her mother warning her about men who would use her, then leave her? "I don't know," she admitted hoarsely.

"Lauren"—his velvet-edged voice caressed and soothed— "you are both more and less than the woman I thought you would be. But unless you've given your heart to someone else, you still have it. You're just not prepared to give it to me."

Lauren shut her eyes tightly. She wanted . . . But it didn't matter what she wanted. "No,
I . . .
I can't," she murmured.

Jason's sigh was audible, but then he shrugged and drew away. As if he had never deviated from the subject, he went on. "I'd like to feel confident you can handle the responsibility when I turn over the Carlin Line to you. Therefore, I'm going to take advantage of your penchant for bargaining and suggest another one. I mean to set up an office in New Orleans for the Line, but I'll need the support of your friend Beauvais in particular to establish a successful distributorship. That's where you can be of help to me. If you'll apply yourself to learning about the shipping industry so you can aid me, I'll find a merchantman for you to buy at a reasonable price and teach you how to ensure a profitable trade. Is that agreeable to you?"

Lauren searched his face, his inscrutable expression, and wondered what he intended to gain by this new proposal.

Jason gave her a brief smile. "Come now, you're not frightened by such a prospect, are you? The woman who traveled across the Atlantic at sixteen with only a hundred guineas in her pocket? The same one who helped hold off an attacking band of Creek braves?
The one who can look a man straight in the eye and tell him to go to hell?"

"No," Lauren lied. "I'm not afraid."

"If it will help you make up your mind, I'll agree to stop pressuring you about marriage."

That would be a relief, Lauren reflected wryly. And there were other advantages if she agreed to his bargain. She could learn a great deal from Jason, since he had experience sailing his own ships as well as running the Carlin Line. And at least his proposition offered her reprieve for a time, until she could find a better solution for what to do with the Carlin inheritance.
If
she could manage to control her attraction for Jason. . . .
"Yes," she replied, determined to start at once with this last resolve.

But it seemed Jason had other ideas. He took her hand and raised it with slow gallantry to his lips, making her heart beat faster.
"Partners, then?"

Feeling a surge of warmth, Lauren nervously pulled her fingers from his grasp. "Yes, partners."

"Good." Jason smiled as he reached out to trace the delicate line of her jaw with one long forefinger. When Lauren shivered, his touch became even lighter, his fingertips skimming the outer rim of her ear. Then, giving in to the urge, he let his hand trail downward to brush the vulnerable hollow at her throat with a
featherlight
stroke.

Lauren's gold-flecked eyes widened perceptively when Jason's caress slowly dropped lower. He meant to pay her back for taunting him earlier, she concluded. She tensed, preparing to withstand the sensuous assault that would be her punishment, determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily he could make her respond, even if her pulse was racing like she had run a great distance. But when Jason's fingers moved still lower to curve around the top edge of her blanket, Lauren couldn't pretend to be unaffected any longer. She clutched at Jason's hand. "No,
enough,
please!" she begged, wanting to end the game.

Jason, however, had just started. "Relax," he warned, sounding amused. "This isn't a proposal." He gave a gentle tug, and when the folds of the blanket fell apart, his sharp intake of breath was audible. "God, you still have the most beautiful breasts I've ever seen." His voice was suddenly husky, his blue eyes as warm as the rays of golden sun that kissed her naked skin.

Quivering, Lauren closed her eyes. Again that exquisite, melting weakness was assailing her, draining her of will. He drew a lazy finger along the silken valley between her breasts, a long, arousing passage that detoured to stroke the full, creamy undersides. Then he began a new pattern, rubbing light circles on her curving flesh, slow swirls that deliberately avoided the swollen, rose-hued nipples. When Lauren whimpered, Jason smiled, watching her start and shiver at his maddening caresses.

"Please, Jason . . ." She faltered, not sure she had the strength to end his torment. Her nipples were aching with the desperate need to be touched.

"Please what, Lauren?" His voice was a throaty, savoring rasp as he bent his head. "Don't arouse you? It's too late. You're as taut as a bowstring."

His lips joined the sensual attack then, nuzzling her ear, the soft skin beneath her jaw, pressing beguiling kisses along her throat, while he filled his palms with her straining breasts. When his mouth at last claimed an engorged nipple, the moist heat shocked the breath from her.

Dazed, her blood singing, she looked down and vaguely noted that one of her long tresses had brazenly draped itself over his shoulder; the gold of it glinted in the fading sunlight, mingling with the silver strands in his gilded chestnut hair.

He attended the erect and aching nipples thoroughly, his lips pulling at their ripeness, tongue plying the pebble-hard buds to rigid arousal. Mindlessly, Lauren clenched her hands, her fingers digging into the soft wool blanket, her breath coming in ragged spurts.

When Jason pressed a knee between her thighs, she realized that it wasn't a
game, that
it never had been. He didn't mean to stop. His hand was stroking her stomach and moving lower, stirring her passion. "But . . . you . . . said . . ." she began a feeble protest.

Shifting his position slightly, Jason let his lips follow the path of his hand. "What I have in mind doesn't result in children," he murmured, his breath whispering against her belly.

Lauren gasped when he nuzzled at the cluster of blond curls between her thighs. "No, Jason. . . ."Frantically, she clutched at his hair, trying to make him lift his head. "No. What are you . . . doing?"

"I'm giving you what you wanted last night."

"I didn't . . ."

"You did." His lips danced across the portal to her womanhood, showing her exactly what he had in mind. Then he looked up into her hot, pleading eyes. "Tell me you want me to stop, Lauren, and I will."

"Oh, God."
She closed her eyes, knowing she was already lost. "I can't."

Jason laughed tenderly as he gently seized her hands. Pinning them at her side, he proceeded to claim her with soft quick strokes of his tongue.

Lauren thought she would die from the piercing sweetness. She drew a long, sobbing breath, her hips arching upward uncontrollably as his tongue flicked like fire over the most intimate part of her body. She writhed, trying to escape, but Jason's hands slid under her hips, cupping her hot flesh, refusing to allow her to move. A guttural sound of satisfaction rippled from him as Lauren moaned.

He went on savoring her, alternately, lapping at her with his tongue and then drawing at her with his lips, plundering, devouring. Lauren wanted to scream when the tip of his tongue penetrated her delicate warmth. Lances of pleasure shot upward through her, destroying the last of her sanity. Her head tossed wildly back and forth as she clung to Jason, her nails scoring his sleek, muscular shoulders. It wasn't long before a sharp spasm of ecstasy ripped through her, followed by another, then another.

The echoes of her throaty cries were the only sounds to disturb the quiet of the golden afternoon.

During the remaining three days of their journey, Lauren discovered that Jason was entirely serious about involving her with the Carlin Line. He started by telling her of the China and West Indian trade, the foundation upon which Jonathan Carlin's fortune had been built, then described the organization of the current company which he now controlled.

Lauren was impressed by the magnitude and complexity, for she hadn't realized the firm was so large. "And you make all the decisions?" she asked as she rode beside him that first day.

Jason flashed
her a
grin.
"Hardly any, if the truth be known.
I have a reliable man to oversee most of the details, and the London office has an efficient staff. Normally I'm only required to give my approval, though sometimes I come up with an idea or two of my own."