The Pirate's Temptation (Pirates of Britannia World Book 12)

by Tara Kingston

  “Dear God.” Leana stifled a gasp with her hand.

  “Rory came to their defense. At the time, he was scarcely older than a lad, but he killed the vermin who came after her. If it wasn’t for him, the bastard would likely have found the girls. But I was too late…too late to save Siobhan.”

  “I am so very sorry.” Leana’s heart ached for their loss. “What a horror for a child to witness.”

  “It’s best ye know what we’ve been dealin’ with. In her young mind, Isla convinced herself a phantom was responsible for what happened.”

  “Have you told her the truth?”

  “In a manner of speaking. We’ve spared her the ugly details.”

  “Perhaps the full truth would help.”

  “The girl isna even ten years of age. She’s too young.” Jamie gave his head a miserable shake. “Someday, when she’s older…but not yet.” He came to his feet and went to the window, shoving the curtain aside as he pressed his fingers to the pane and looked to the rising dawn. “She would never forgive me.”

  She followed him, placing her hand over his. “What happened was not your fault.”

  “A comforting thought,” he said, a raw edge sharpening his low tones. “Bluidy shame it’s not true.” Taking her hand between his, he studied her face. “Now ye know the nature of the phantom that haunts this place. I’ve nothin’ else to say on the subject.”

  “You cannot blame yerself.”

  “By hellfire, who else should I blame? Fate?” His gaze locked with hers, allowing her to see the pain in their depths. “I failed them both. And now, ye’re in too deep.”

  “Jamie…please…I want to understand.”

  He cocked a brow, his expression suddenly cold. His eyes narrowed as his mouth thinned to a slash. “Ye’ve no need to understand any of this.” A blend of ice and emotion infused his words. “I was a pirate. I made enemies. My wife and my child paid the price.” He shoved his hair from his face as he turned back to the window, staring into the haze of light. “I’ll never be able to leave that life in the past. There’s nothin’ else ye need to understand. I’ll ask ye to leave me, Miss Fraser. Now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Throughout the day, Leana went through the motions of living. She bathed and donned a clean, ivory cotton blouse and serviceable wool skirt, brushed her hair and piled it on her head in some semblance of a coiffure, and dined with the girls at the morning meal. She attended to the girls’ instruction, and smiled pleasantly when Rory asked her opinion of the placement of his necktie. When he requested another lesson on the art of leading a lass over the ballroom floor, she offered another smile and complied. No one would have guessed how desperately her heart was aching. No one could’ve seen how she cursed herself for a fool.

  I’ll ask ye to leave me, Miss Fraser.

  The scoundrel had placed special emphasis on her name. Days after he’d whispered her name like a caress, he’d put her firmly back in her place.

  My sweet Leana. Mo Cridhe. The memory of Jamie’s passion-tinged words washed over her, heating her cheeks and kindling a dull ache in her heart.

  The man who’d held her as if he’d never let her go had disappeared. An ice-blooded master of the house who viewed her with a deliberately cold-eyed gaze had taken his place.

  Like a fool, she’d opened her heart to him. She’d ached to hear the pain in his voice as he stood at the window, revealing the scars his wife’s death had etched upon him and his child.

  She’d harden herself against him. Not that it really mattered. She’d likely be gone by the next afternoon. Her ten days were nearly done. Now, he was merely biding his time, upholding his end of the bargain, as if to prove even a man who’d made his fortune plundering cargo could truly possess such a thing as integrity.

  In the evening, he’d dined with his daughters, his demeanor entirely unremarkable. James MacArron conversed with his children and with her. He’d inquired about the girls’ progress in their daily studies, his manner as staid as any gentleman seeing to his children’s education. He even went out of his way to complement Mrs. Taylor on the meal she’d prepared. In short, the man was maddeningly, infuriatingly normal. Evidently, what had gone on between them played far more havoc on Leana’s nervous constitution than on his. How utterly unfair!

  Later, after she’d seen the girls through three bedtime stories, each proudly recited by Isla, and tucked them securely into their beds, Leana prepared to retire to her room. In the morning, she’d face her future—perhaps away from the girls she’d come to adore and a man she’d come perilously close to falling for.

  It had been a close thing, hadn’t it? But she’d emerged unscathed.

  She’d indulged in an ill-advised flirtation with James MacArron, nothing more. Her brief time in the pirate’s arms had been meaningless, a diversion from the monotony of this remote place.

  Yes, that was it. A diversion. That’s all it was. Nothing to regret.

  After all, it’s not as if I fell in love with the moody cad.

  Still, her nerves were raw. She pictured the book she’d chosen from the library the night she’d tasted Jamie’s kiss—a novel she’d never even opened. Perhaps tonight the story would provide the distraction she needed to relax and drift off to sleep.

  As she’d suspected, the book was where she’d left it, atop a stack on a side table in the cozy room. Relaxing on a settee, she was quickly drawn into the adventures of an intrepid governess and the moody, tortured not-quite-a-gentleman hero who’d captured her heart nearly upon his first sullen glance. As the heroine fell deeper under the spell of the enigmatic hero, Leana turned page after page, eager to discover the identity of the mad woman hiding in the catacombs of the castle.

  The door squawked a quiet protest, and she glanced up—into the eyes of James MacArron.

  He came toward her. “I thought I’d find ye here.”

  “Did you now?” She regretted the question as soon as it popped from her lips. It sounded like a flirtation, a light challenge. Heaven knew that was the last thing she needed now.

  His gaze dropped to the novel in her hands. “My sister left it behind the last time she visited. I canna believe she reads such drivel.”

  “I wasn’t aware you had another sibling.” My, could she sound any more dull?

  He nodded. “Carolyn is long married with a family of her own. Her husband’s a good man, a barrister in Edinburgh. He’s lookin’ to get a seat in Parliament, in due time.”

  “Quite respectable,” she said.

  “Unlike me.” He held her gaze. “Of course, there are some benefits to being the black sheep of the family.”

  “Black sheep? I’d hardly say that’s the case. Why, the press has hailed you a hero.”

  He slowly shook his head. “Not a hero, I can ye assure ye. My father hated the fact I took after my ancestor, the buccaneer. He insisted my mum strip away anything connected with Seamus MacDougall or our earlier ancestor, Shaw MacDougall.”

  Leana’s eyes went wide. She’d read many an account of Shaw MacDougall’s swashbuckling adventures. He’d become a legend in the Highlands. “The Savage of the Sea—you are his descendant?”

  “Aye. Many generations have passed since he sailed the seas, but his blood runs in my veins. My father could not erase that truth. When I came into my inheritance—when I took charge of this place—I set that to rights. Portraits of my pirate kin occupy a proud place in this home.”

  “I’ve seen your great-grandfather’s portrait—you bear him a striking resemblance.”

  “My mum seemed to think so,” he said, the faintest trace of a smile brightening his expression. “I came lookin’ for ye because I need to speak with ye—about my daughters.”

  Leana swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat. He was going to dismiss her. She knew what was coming. Well, she’d simply have to be strong. Placing the book to the side, she rose and came to stand within arm’s length of him. It wouldn’t do to look as if he’d intimidated her in a
ny way.

  Now that she was nearer, she could see the tiny wisps of hair curling at his nape. He’d recently bathed, leaving his hair damp and his skin bearing the crisp notes of bergamot soap. Against her better judgment, she drank in his essence with an instinctive thirst.

  “I do hope you’ve seen the progress they’ve made in such a short time. The girls have a thirst for learning.”

  “Aye, I’ve seen a remarkable change, especially in Isla. The young lass has a smile on her face, and she’s eager to use her clever brain for somethin’ other than comin’ up with new ways to drive Mrs. Taylor and Mrs. Davidson to distraction.”

  “I’ve noticed this as well,” she agreed. “Bridget is also making strides. The wee girl is precocious. She’s shown an affinity for learning new words, and she delights in Isla’s storytimes each night.”

  “So I’ve seen.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Miss Fraser, this isna easy for me.”

  She cocked her chin in a look she hoped appeared strong and not as if she were struggling to rein in her feelings. “I’ve been expecting this moment. I will prepare to depart in the morning.”

  His brows drew together. “Ye think I came here to tell ye to leave?”

  “Why else would you seek me out at this late hour? I know the time has come. Ten days. You’ve kept to your end of the bargain.”

  What looked like amusement flashed in his eyes. “Ye do like to try to figure me out. Bluidy shame ye’re not verra good at it.”

  “Not very good at it?” Oh dear, she sounded like a parrot—a daft one, at that.

  “My girls wouldna forgive me if I sent ye away. I came here to talk to ye about remainin’ as their governess…for as long as ye care to stay.”

  To stay. Uncertain her ears weren’t playing a cruel deception, she studied his expression. Seeing the truth in his eyes, she smiled.

  As he held her gaze, his mouth curved into a grin. “Well now, Miss Fraser. It’s not like ye to be speechless. What do ye say? Will ye stay on…with the girls?”

  “Of course,” she said, breaking free of the spell that had fallen over her. She’d be safe here, for as long as she wished. And she’d have time to be with the children whose smiles she’d already come to cherish.

  “There is one thing,” he said, casting his gaze to the carpet. “I plan to take my daughters with me on my next voyage. It’s set to be a long one, transporting whisky to America, and I dinna wish to leave them behind. Would ye be willin’ to make the trip?”

  “Yes,” she said without a moment’s hesitation. “I anticipate a memorable adventure.”

  “I will see to it the crew treats ye with respect. They’ll know better than to give ye any trouble.”

  An image of Lord Gilford sprawled on the floor, shards of his priceless vase littering the carpet beneath his head, flashed through her thoughts. “I’m not worried. I do know how to handle myself when a man oversteps his bounds.”

  “Somehow, I have no difficulty believing that’s true.” Was that a smile in his eyes?

  She managed a placid expression. “I do have some…shall we say, experience, in such matters.”

  An unfamiliar look—could it be uncertainty?—swept over his features. “I want ye to know… I dinna want ye to think I’ll be expectin’ ye to do anythin’ other than act as a teacher to my bairns.”

  Something she couldn’t quite define flickered in his eyes. Was it vulnerability? An innate sense of decency? Or, perhaps, both?

  How very unfair of you, James MacArron. Just when I’d convinced myself you were a selfish cad, you prove me wrong.

  Ordinarily, she was a prudent woman. At least, she liked to think so. As such, she should’ve thanked her lucky stars and left him to his thoughts.

  For days, he’d been cold to her. Now, she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to warm to him again.

  His declaration had knocked her slightly off kilter. Perhaps she would respond in kind, if only just a bit.

  She smiled sweetly. “Well, that is a relief. I would not want to find myself acting as your navigator. Or swabbing the decks, for that matter.”

  His eyes narrowed, seeming to take in every nuance of her expression. “I believe ye know that is not what I meant, Miss Fraser.”

  “Just to be sure I am fully taking your meaning—you wish to assure me you’ve no intention of ravishing me like some pirate of old?”

  For once, she left him speechless, if only for a moment. His lips pulled into a bit of a grin. “Are ye always so confounding, Miss Leana Fraser, or have ye reserved that talent for me?”

  “Confounding? I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean. I only seek to clarify your meaning.”

  He pinned her with his enticing gaze. “Ye’re enough to drive a man to the madhouse. But ye’re right. That is what I was saying, in a manner of speaking.”

  “Very well. You may consider my mind put at ease.” She laced her fingers together primly. “I hadn’t really given it any thought, but now that you mention it, the prospect of being on a ship at sea for days and weeks on end—well, one can imagine how such an arrangement might test one’s…discipline, for lack of a better word.”

  He scrubbed his palm against his jaw. Leana’s attention fixed on the tiny dark bristles of new beard, bracing herself against an entirely unladylike urge to run her fingertips over the delicious texture of his skin and masculine stubble.

  A little voice in her head urged her to count her blessings and leave before she said or did something to change his mind. Pity she could not resist the opportunity to tease him. “After all, a lady must protect her good name. I shudder to think what my dear Aunt Gertie would say. She’d insist I sleep with a dagger beneath my pillow every night.”

  He cocked a brow. “Ye think men of the sea go about seducin’ every beauty they can get their hands on?”

  “I’ve read about pirates—you are a ruthless lot, are you not?”

  His brow furrowed, even as a touch of amusement played on his lips. The memory of his kiss swept over her, spurring decidedly improper thoughts of all the places on her body where she’d like to feel his sensuous touch.

  Oh, my. Thank heavens the man did not possess the ability to read the scandalous notions flitting about her mind.

  The furrows on his forehead deepened as he picked up on the small movement. “I dinna know what ye’ve been readin’, lass, but they dinna know what they’re sayin’. When would we have time for pillagin’ and plunderin’ if we’re ravishin’ every woman we come across? The very thought of it is enough to exhaust a man.”

  For reasons she didn’t quite want to understand, his words pinched like a too-tight shoe. She’d never considered that a man would be too exhausted to have his way with her.

  She mustered a prim tone and settled her hands on her hips. “My, it’s quite a relief to know I won’t be carried off over some randy pirate’s shoulder. Though I must say, I’d believed pirates were a more vigorous lot.”

  “Ah, we’re vigorous enough. But we’ve got better things to do than haul feisty women off to our beds.” Challenge danced in his eyes. “Though where a certain lass is concerned, I canna truthfully say the prospect doesna appeal to me.”

  Her cheeks heated. Good heavens, the man did know how to get the better of her.

  “But a lass like ye, she deserves more,” he went on. “She damn well deserves better than a man who has no right to want her.”

  Her heart stuttered. His tone had shifted, no longer teasing. No longer challenging. He’d spoken from the heart.

  She pulled in a bracing breath. “And if the woman…if she also wants him?”

  “Nothing good could ever come of it.” He caught her hands in his. “Leana, I shouldna have kissed ye. I shouldna have wanted ye as I did. I’d never hurt ye. But if ye’re to stay in this house…if ye’re to stay with my bairns…I’ve got to keep my distance. What happened before was a mistake I dinna intend to make again.”

  His words seemed a confession. He was keepi
ng her on for the sake of his daughters. That was what mattered, wasn’t it? Jamie was right. Loving him could only end with her heart in tatters.

  If only she could simply turn and walk away.

  “Of course,” she said, summoning her most emotionless tone. “I will consider what happened between us to have been a momentary diversion. Nothing more.”

  “Diversion?” Slowly, he shook his head. “A lass like ye could never be considered a diversion.”

  “What else am I to believe? I know what I felt. I thought you experienced it too. But there’s nothing to be done about it, is there?”

  He brought her close, so near she could feel the heat of his body through his white linen shirt. His lips brushed hers, and then he released her. “One of us has to have the good sense God gave him. One of us has to walk away. Tonight…and every night.”

  Leana gulped against a swell of emotion. She wanted desperately to call out to him as he went to the door, to tell him to stay, but the words would not come.

  He turned to her. A hunger he could not deny blazed in his eyes.

  “Don’t go. Stay with me.” The fevered words came out in a rush. “I know what I want, Jamie. I need you.”

  Slowly, he closed the short distance between them. “I willna treat ye like a wanton. If there is to be passion between us, know this—I intend to claim ye for my own. Not for one night. Nay, for as long as ye’ll have me.” Framing her face in his hands, he kissed her, a tender, softly demanding caress. He whispered against her lips, “If ye come to me tonight, I’ll know ye will be mine.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The dim light of an oil lamp cast a golden hue over Leana’s skin as she poured water in the basin and wet a soft cloth. As she swept it over her skin, thoughts of Jamie made her heart race. She’d never wanted a man as she wanted Captain James MacArron.

  Was she a fool to think of loving him? He’d made no promises, no vows. Would he cast her aside in the light of day?

  Her heart resisted her misgivings. He is an honorable man.