Rapture's Tempest

by Bobbi Smith

  It was on the way down the front hall that Martin accosted her.

  “My dear, I haven’t had the opportunity to tell you how absolutely lovely you look tonight,” he said smoothly, stepping in front of her and successfully blocking her path.

  “Thank you.” She tried to move past him. “If you’ll excuse me—”

  “No. I’m afraid not. It’s time that we danced together.”

  “Martin. You know how I feel about…”

  “It’s perfectly natural for you and me to dance. In fact, it’s expected. Now, won’t you please reconsider? Or do you plan to make a scene?” He tried to take her elbow but she shook off his hand.

  “Don’t touch me!” she hissed. “We have guests arriving…” Nodding toward the door where her mother was welcoming the Westlakes, she managed to distract him for a moment and she started forward to greet Renee and Marshall.

  “Clara, thank you so much for having us. Delight!” Renee called out a greeting as she saw her friend coming toward her.

  Delight was relieved to have gotten away from Martin and she smiled widely at the sight of her friend. “I’m so glad you finally got here.”

  Renee gave her a quick hug and then continued easily, “I hope you don’t mind that we brought Marshall’s brother, Jim, with us.” Renee turned her to face Jim. “Captain Jim Westlake, I’d like you to meet my friend Delight de Vries.” She beamed as she introduced them. “And I believe you already know Annabelle, his fiancée.”

  Suddenly, without any advance warning, she was looking at Captain James Westlake. Though it was only a matter of a few seconds, to Delight it seemed that an eternity had passed as she stared at him in mute surprise. Her eyes feasted upon him, lovingly tracing the broad width of his shoulders and his handsome features, until their gazes met and locked. Forcing herself not to run from him, she met his regard steadily and waited.

  It took Jim a long minute to realize that this was actually Murphy standing so brazenly before him. A bolt of white-hot joy seared his soul, and he tensed.

  Annabelle, who was clinging to his arm, felt his muscles bunch beneath her hand and looked up at him questioningly.

  Jim quickly recovered his composure and schooled his expression, his eyes shuttering the unanticipated excitement that had shaken him. So, Jim thought in vicious victory, Murphy was none other than Delight de Vries. And the whole time he’d been out combing the city for her like a wild man, she’d been right here.

  His eyes narrowed as he studied her. Was a spy ring being operated out of this house? Why had she done it? Could there possibly have been another reason for her disguise? As Delight de Vries she had everything—money and an assured position in society. And there had never been any doubts about the loyalty of the Montgomery/de Vries family…at least, not until now.

  Jim’s thoughts were chaotic as he tried to figure out the best way to handle the situation. Finally, in a flash of momentary brilliance, he decided to do absolutely nothing. Let her sweat for a while and wonder what he was going to do. Grim in his determination to get to the bottom of her scheme, Jim knew that before this night was over he was going to have answers to all of his questions. Controlling himself admirably, he slipped a possessive arm around Annabelle’s waist and spoke first.

  “Miss de Vries.” His tone was bland as he took her hand. “How nice to finally meet you. Renee’s spoken so highly of you.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” she murmured as a thrill shot through her at the touch of his hand. She glanced up at him quickly to see if he’d felt the same thing, but his features reflected nothing. He appeared very remote, almost cold, and slightly mocking, and she was forced to look away.

  “Please, call me Jim,” he offered, and then added outrageously, “I feel as if we’ve known each other for a long time. And may I call you Delight?”

  “Of course.” She felt trapped and wondered at his game. Obviously, he’d recognized her, so why was he carrying on this charade?

  “And you know my fiancée, Annabelle.”

  “Annabelle.” She acknowledged the other woman’s presence, although it sent a shaft of burning pain through her heart to do so. They did make a handsome couple…Jim so tall and debonair and Annabelle so tiny and fair, clinging to him so adorably.

  Delight suddenly thought she was going to be sick. How had she gotten herself into such a mess? Her first instinct was to hide for the rest of the night, but she fought that down. She had done far more difficult things in her life than watch the man she loved with another woman. Lifting her chin as her pride surged forth to steady her, Delight knew that she would make it through the coming hours, torturous though they might be.

  Her heart constricted as Jim turned easily away from her to greet her mother and stepfather, and tears burned her eyes as she longed to be the woman at his side. Drawing on her innermost resources, Delight smiled brightly and continued to make small talk with Renee.

  Jim observed Martin Montgomery with subdued interest, wondering if there was any truth at all to the story she’d told him about her stepfather’s being the reason she’d run away. The possibility bore looking into, and he decided to make discreet inquiries as the night progressed.

  It amazed him that he suddenly felt almost lighthearted now that he had found her, and he frowned. The little witch! He’d spent long, miserable weeks searching for her and, he hated to admit, worrying about her. Quickly forcing himself to think about the spy charge, his expression grew thunderous. If there was some covert operation going on here, he was going to uncover it tonight.

  Delight had been watching Jim from beneath lowered lashes, and a shiver shook her as he turned back to her. His eyes snared hers, his look relating all the frustration and anger that was built up inside of him. But Delight mistook his look for one of contempt, and she felt in that moment that he was lost to her forever. Turning away, still chatting gaily with Renee, she moved ahead of them down the hall.

  Jim watched her progress, admiring her trim figure. As Murphy she had been a pretty woman, but as Delight de Vries she was gorgeous. He followed her progress until a petulant remark from Annabelle drew him back to the present.

  Delight walked down the hall toward the ballroom, totally confused. What was he doing here? And why, since she was sure he had recognized her, had he not revealed all that had passed between them? On edge, she paused in the open doorway to watch the other couples dancing.

  “Darling, I can’t wait to dance with you again,” Annabelle told Jim.

  Delight stiffened at her words.

  Jim chuckled as they swept past Delight’s tense figure to enter the ballroom. “We have the whole evening, and I intend to have you in my arms as often as possible.”

  She watched as Jim swept his fiancée into his arms and guided her expertly about the dance floor.

  “Delight?”

  She almost jumped at the sound of Marshall’s voice so close behind her. “Yes?” Delight kept her smile firmly in place.

  “Let’s dance.”

  “I’d love to,” she replied eagerly, and she was more grateful than he would ever know when he squired her out among the swirling couples.

  “What happened to Renee?”

  “She was waylaid by a pair of dowagers in the hall, and I had no intention of being dragged into that conversation for any length of time. Thank you for saving me…” He grinned down at her.

  “My pleasure, believe me.” She laughed lightly just as Jim and Annabelle danced past them.

  The sight of Delight obviously enjoying a dance in Marshall’s arms sent a wave of cold anger through Jim. What the hell was his brother doing dancing with her? Unused to being assailed by such strong emotions, he shook himself mentally. When he realized how ridiculous his reaction was, he scowled.

  “Jim? Is something wrong?” Annabelle sensed a change in him and wondered at the cause.

  “No. Nothing.” He smiled at her distractedly and was glad when the music ended. “Shall we get some punch?”

  �
��I’d love some.”

  As they headed for the refreshment table, Renee joined them. “I thought Mrs. Peterson would never stop talking…” She was relieved to be away from the older women. “Have you seen my husband?”

  “He was dancing with Delight a minute ago.” Jim’s tone was cold and Renee looked at him quickly, wondering at his mood.

  “Good. She is such a sweet girl.” Renee saw them approaching from across the crowded dance floor. “Here they come now.”

  Jim had almost snorted in disbelief at Renee’s remark. Murphy/Delight, sweet? He would never have chosen that adjective to describe her. She was either incredibly shrewd or terribly naive. His mind told him that she was the first; his heart protested the decision. It was an unending conflict within him that could only be resolved by discovering the truth. Anxious not to appear interested in her, Jim bent attentively to Annabelle and engaged her in conversation.

  Delight saw Jim standing with Annabelle, and she knew she couldn’t join them. Excusing herself from Marshall, she went out into the hallway, searching for a quiet place where she could get control of her emotions once again. She wouldn’t have believed that anything could hurt this badly. She felt as if her whole world had just come crashing down around her. All her fantasies of Jim’s wanting her and needing her were just that…fantasies. He was engaged to Annabelle Morgan and he would marry Annabelle Morgan, and there was nothing she could do about it. She had been right to flee that morning after they’d made love. He didn’t really care about her. He never had, and no doubt he never would. That was why he hadn’t looked for her. That was why he was ignoring her now.

  Hurrying down the hallway, she rushed into the deserted study and shut the door.

  A drunken Martin Montgomery had seen Delight’s nervous flight from the ballroom, and, after waiting a short length of time, he followed her out into the hall, unaware that Jim’s eyes were upon him. He didn’t know why she was upset, but it offered him the perfect opportunity to corner her, alone. As he left the ballroom, he saw her enter the study and close the door, and he hurried down the hall in pursuit. Quietly, he turned the knob and let himself in, shutting it silently behind him.

  Delight was standing at one of the full-length casement windows staring out into the darkness of the night.

  “Were you waiting for me?” Martin asked snidely.

  Her startled gasp was his answer.

  “Well, no matter. I’m here now, and we are very much alone.”

  “Hardly,” she replied haughtily. “We have a house full of company. Any of whom might decide to come through that door at any moment.”

  Martin stalked toward her, and Delight tensed. In her desperation to get away from Jim, she had not even considered Martin.

  Stopping in front of her, he let his lascivious gaze devour the smoothness of the tops of her breasts. “Your breasts really are lovely,” he murmured and reached out to touch her.

  Delight quickly slapped his hand away. “You’ve had too much to drink. Leave me alone or I’ll let the whole world know what kind of a lecher you are!”

  “One kiss, my dear, and I’ll leave,” he bargained, wanting to feel her pressed against him one more time.

  “There is no way you’ll ever get that close to me again!” she hissed, backing away from him. But Martin didn’t even seem to hear her as he advanced toward her, intent only on his own pleasures.

  Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her fiercely toward him.

  “No!” Her scream was cut off by his painful, silencing kiss.

  When he saw Martin Montgomery leave the room so soon after Delight, Jim excused himself from Annabelle for a moment and followed. Pausing in the ballroom doorway, he watched as Martin almost furtively entered the study. Walking slowly in that direction, Jim hesitated outside the closed portal. He could hear the sound of voices, male and female, but the words were indistinct. He was about ready to move away when he finally recognized Delight’s voice and then heard her quickly muffled cry.

  With a casualness he little felt, Jim opened the door and stepped into the study. The sight that greeted him sent a wave of fury through him, and it was only thanks to his own rigid, iron-willed self-control that he didn’t throttle Martin to within an inch of his life right then.

  “Oh…” he said in a loud voice. “Excuse me.”

  Martin froze and then twisted to see who had entered the room. “Mr. Westlake.” He nodded stiffly. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  Delight took advantage of his momentary discomfort to edge away from him.

  “I was looking for Delight,” Jim replied smoothly. “I believe this was to be our dance. Your mother told me I might find you here.” Jim lied easily. “But, if you’re busy…”

  “No!” she answered, eagerly moving to Jim’s side. “I’m not busy. In fact, you’re right about this being our waltz. If you’ll excuse us, Martin?”

  Martin watched them leave the room, alternately torn between frustrated anger at being caught and worry that Clara would find out.

  “Thank you,” she whispered as Jim guided her out of the study. But, when he took her elbow and directed her, not toward the ballroom but into the quiet of the music room at the end of the hall, she panicked.

  “I thought we were going to dance…” Close to the breaking point, she glared up at him, jerking her arm free of his strong, yet oddly gentle, grip.

  Jim cocked an amused eyebrow at her, his tone mocking. “Murphy…or should I call you Delight? There are many things I’d like to do with you right now, but dancing is not one of them.” With a certain finality, he shut the door behind them.

  Delight swallowed nervously, her eyes wide, reflecting her inner tension. “I really have to get back to my guests…” She tried to turn and leave the room, but Jim’s hand snaked out and grasped her wrist, pulling her back tight against his chest.

  “Not so fast. I think we have a few things to settle between us.” The feel of her pressed full-length against him set his heart to thundering, and he gazed down at her, suddenly a captive of her startled, fawnlike gaze.

  “Jim.” Her voice was breathless. “There’s nothing to settle…it’s over…it never really was…”

  Her heart was dying as she denied her innermost feelings. He was here…in her own home…holding her as she’d always dreamed he would. But that was where the fantasy ended. He wasn’t here to declare his love and claim her for his own. He was here with his fiancée to attend a party. Their meeting tonight had been a chance thing. He hadn’t looked for her. He didn’t care. She closed her eyes as the painful realization seared her.

  “Murphy.” The word was spoken softly, and she couldn’t prevent the shiver of anticipation that shook her as Jim released her wrist and brought his hands up to frame her pale face. “Ah…Murphy.” Her name came from him in a strangled, soul-wrenching sound as he bent to claim her lips in a tender, sweet-soft kiss.

  Delight trembled as his mouth met hers. Though fragile and dreamlike, the effect of his embrace was electrifying, and she fought against it. He was going to marry Annabelle! And Annabelle was right in the next room! With all the strength she could muster, she tore herself from his arms.

  “No!” Her chest was heaving as she faced him, terrified of the power he had over her. “Do you think I got away from Martin just to come in here with you? Go back to your fiancée, Jim Westlake, and leave me alone!”

  Turning on her heel, she fled the room, leaving Jim standing in the middle of the room aching with his need for her.

  The next few hours passed slowly and almost painfully for Delight. She danced with all who asked, drank glass after glass of the potent punch, and kept her smile bright and her laugh light, but inside she felt cold…lifeless. And Jim’s presence only made matters worse. Every time she looked up he was there. And he was always with Annabelle…dancing with her…talking with her….

  As the music ended, Delight’s current partner accompanied her from the floor and went to get her a c
up of punch. Standing momentarily alone, she was unprepared for Jim’s sudden unexpected appearance at her side as the orchestra began another waltz.

  “I believe this is our dance.” His tone brooked no comment as she looked up at him, startled.

  “No…I mean…I’m tired and I thought I’d rest for a while.”

  “Murphy…” he threatened, and she glared at him.

  “Don’t call me that!”

  “Then dance with me. You owe me that much.”

  “I owe you nothing!” she hissed, schooling her features into a mask of politeness.

  “You owe me plenty, little girl!” Jim was as close to losing his temper as he’d ever been in his life. It was bad enough that she’d walked off and left him earlier with his body aching for the touch of hers. And then he’d had to suffer through watching her dance with all the available young men there tonight. He’d had enough. With a grip that was none too gentle, he took her into his arms and swept her out onto the dance floor.

  Delight was furious and more than a little shaken by the emotion she’d just witnessed in him. What did he mean, she “owed” him?

  “Jim…” She began.

  But he cut her off. “Shut up. If you value your reputation, just shut up.”

  Sensing a barely restrained violence in him, she fell silent, paling at the thought of what he could do to her if he so chose.

  Jim’s movements around the dance floor were smooth and deceptively easy, as he held her as close as he could without causing a scandal. He could hardly believe that she was finally in his arms. She fit as if she belonged there, and they danced in a strained, silent wonder, moving as one in time with the lilting strains of the waltz.

  Although she was very nervous, Delight closed her eyes for a minute and let herself believe that her dream really had come true…that he had been searching for her…that he had come to take her away with him…that he did love her as she loved him. The thought made her smile.