by Mary Campisi
“And he’s never returned?” A dull ache started in the middle of her chest. The pain of being left behind.
“He went back once, seven years ago.” John’s blue eyes darkened. “It turned out badly. The old man started on him again, tried to hoist the Willow Oaks legacy back on him. I was there, and it wasn’t a pretty sight. Noah swore he’d never return as long as the old man was alive and frankly, I can’t say I blame him.”
Emily fell silent, sifting through this new knowledge of Noah Sandleton. She could see why he and Ian were such good friends. They’d both suffered similar circumstances as the eldest sons of powerful families, duty thrust upon them at a young age, twisting and imprisoning them in its harmful grips.
“Does he have any brothers or sisters?” she asked, suddenly needing to know if others had suffered as she had.
“He’s got a younger brother and twin sisters.” John cleared his throat and turned to her. “I’ve spoken more than I should have.” He touched her arm gently, smiling into her upturned face. “When the time is right, Noah will tell you,” he said, patting her arm. “Now, we best get you back to your cabin.”
****
Emily sat cross-legged on the bunk, combing out her hair. When she’d bid John goodnight and entered the cabin, it had been dark save for a pale light shimmering in the corner. Noah’s obvious absence had brought her equal amounts relief and disappointment, though she couldn’t say why. Actually, she’d been hoping to prod him into talking about his home life and family.
Did he plan to return to America after his father’s death? Would he stay? What of the brother and twin sisters? Were they old enough to remember him? And the pretty, little rich girl he was to marry? The questions teamed in her brain, one after the other, in such a furious jumble she didn’t hear the rap on her door.
“Miss Emily?” Jeremy’s young voice called out to her.
Emily scurried off the bed and pulled open the door. “Yes?”
She stood dumbfounded, as Jeremy and Amos entered the cabin carrying a huge wooden tub.
“Captain thought you might enjoy a bath,” Jeremy said, blushing. “We’ve been collecting this water.” He motioned to several steaming buckets behind him. “But it’s been a devil to heat.” They set the tub in the middle of the room and proceeded to empty the buckets into it.
Such a tender gesture initiated by the man who was fast becoming more of a mystery with each passing minute. He confused and angered her with his high-handed manner and sarcastic tongue, but he also beckoned her with his heated gaze and soft caress.
“Enjoy your bath, Miss Emily.” Amos grinned at her, and she smiled back, curious if the old sailor had ever seen bath water. Doubtful.
“I thank you fine gentlemen for thinking of me. I shall most certainly enjoy my bath.”
“It weren’t nothing, Miss Emily,” Jeremy piped in. “It was all the captain’s doing. You might want to thank him.”
“Yes, well...” She hesitated a moment. “I most certainly will.”
As soon as the two men left, Emily hurried to the armoire and pulled out her travel bag. She ruffled through its rumpled contents until she located a small bottle of lilac water. Unscrewing the top, she poured an ample amount into the tub and luxuriated in the heady fragrance. She unlaced her gown with lightning speed, and seconds later sank into steamy water and her own private heaven.
An hour later, she sat on the bed, dressed in a batiste nightgown that covered her from head to toe. “Ouch,” she snapped, pulling at a large knot of wet hair. No wonder her lady’s maid mouthed curse words and dropped subtle hints about opting for a more fashionable shorter style whenever the poor girl had the task of combing Emily’s hair. She bent forward and began the painstaking chore of untangling the matted mess.
The door clicked open, and Emily glanced up. Noah stood in the doorway, tall and dark against the evening shadows. “Thank you for the bath,” she said softly. “It was most enjoyable.”
He shrugged but didn’t look at her. “You’re welcome.” He moved to the tub and stared into the water as though it contained something of great interest.
Was he really as cold and heartless as he wanted her to think? She was beginning to wonder.
“I was thinking of a bath myself,” Noah said, turning toward her, his expression unreadable. “Would you mind?”
The thought of him naked made her hot and cold all at once. When she could find her voice, she stammered, “Why no,” with as much matter-of-factness as she could muster. If he could appear so nonchalant about his nakedness, then why couldn’t she? The truth smacked against her bravado; she’d never, in her entire life, seen a man naked. The very idea was petrifying—and intriguing. “I wish I’d known,” she mumbled, grabbing for something to say, “I wouldn’t have put the lilac water in the tub.”
He smiled tightly. “Consider it just one more step in our ruse.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you? When my men smell your scent on me they’ll have no doubt that we’re lovers. That’s our plan, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice soft as silk. “To pretend to be lovers?” Without waiting for her response, he turned and began unbuttoning his shirt.
Emily hesitated a moment, unable to look away as he pulled off his shirt to reveal a darkly tanned, well-muscled back. When he bent to remove his boots, his tightly clad breeches stretched to expose the finely carved muscles of his thighs and buttocks, leaving Emily a vision of what his unclothed body would look like.
She swallowed and fanned herself. Good heavens, the room had grown stuffy. It grew even stuffier when Noah bent his head to unfasten the buttons on his breeches. Emily sipped in tiny breaths as his strong hands worked the fabric over his slim hips. He stopped and jerked his head around, his dark eyes boring into her.
“Unless you’d like to help, you’d better turn around now,” he said gruffly.
Emily gasped and buried her head in the pillow, but no matter how deep she burrowed, she couldn’t block out the rich sound of Noah’s laughter or the sight of his perfect body.
****
Noah stood over Emily, mesmerized by the slow, even movements of her breathing. Every so often she made a small mewling sound followed by a sigh. He’d counted ten in the last fifteen minutes. That’s how long he’d been standing over her, filled with desire, close to bursting. He tried to ignore the painful throbbing in his cock, tried to deny the need that had been building in him for a long time now, ever since he’d laid eyes on her.
This woman had no special hold over him. He only desired her because he’d been without a woman too long. Disgusted with his behavior, he moved to leave her and remembered the reason he’d approached the bed.
He’d meant to place her under the covers to protect her from the night’s chill. He leaned over and tried to nudge the blanket from under her sleeping body. She moaned softly and shifted position, exposing a long, slender leg. His gaze ravaged her body, stripping her of the thin material that covered her exquisite curves. She was bewitching him, even in her sleep! He pulled at the blanket again, but with no success. After three more attempts, he decided there was no way to get her under the covers without lifting her, which meant touching her body, which meant torturing himself with her forbidden sweetness, which meant—
Damn it, he should just leave her. He hesitated. She could catch a chill and perhaps a fever. Then what? Damn it! He cursed under his breath and scooped her gently into his arms. She was soft and warm as she snuggled against his bare chest and made a mewling sound, not unlike a contented cat. “Emily,” he choked out. “Stop it.”
“Mmm,” she murmured, nuzzling against his chest.
Noah let out a strangled sound as he flung back the covers and laid her on the bed as quickly as possible. She snaked her arms around his neck before he could straighten and pulled him toward her. Her actions caught him by surprise, and he lost his balance and tumbled on top of her. Her throaty laughter pumped through his veins as she tightened her arm
s and shifted her body beneath his. “Emily,” he groaned, trying to ignore his pulsing cock. “Stop this. I’m no saint.”
She smiled, her eyes still closed and moved again, rubbing herself against his cock. “I’ve dreamed this a thousand times with you,” she murmured, her tantalizing voice drenching him. She’d dreamed this intimate act a thousand times with him, a man she clearly loathed and fought with at every turn? Hardly. A sickening feeling settled in his gut. She was still sleeping, dreaming about Christopher. Her lover.
“A thousand times and more,” she moaned softly, running her fingers along his shoulders. “Oh, Noah.”
His head snapped up. “Emily, wake up,” his harsh command startled her out of her slumber, and her eyes flew open. “You were dreaming.”
“Was I?” She stared at his mouth.
“Don’t,” he said. She ignored his words and lifted a shaky hand to trace his lips with her fingertips. God, she was killing him, one sweet touch at a time. His tongue shot out to trace a pattern over the pads of her fingers. “If you want me to leave, say so right now,” he rasped. “Because in another minute I won’t be able to.”
She traced his lips again. “Stay.”
He groaned and captured her mouth, releasing all the pent up passion and longing he’d harbored since the first time he saw her. She returned the kiss with a fire of her own, her tongue seeking and mating with his, tracing his lips, sucking his tongue, exploring his mouth. She moaned, holding him to her as he shifted his weight slightly and settled between her thighs.
“I can’t wait any longer.” He would go slow next time. Or the time after that. Right now, he had to have her, hard and deep. He skimmed her thigh, grabbed the hem of her nightgown, and yanked it to her waist. He stroked her creamy flesh, his fingers brushing her woman’s heat with feather light touches. Her low, pleading moans unraveled the last shreds of his control. “I’ve got to have you now,” he ground out as he tore at the buttons of his breeches, releasing his cock in one swift movement. Noah grabbed her buttocks, lifting her off the bed and positioned himself over her. For one brief moment their gazes locked, and then he thrust deeply into her trembling body.
She screamed just as he tore through the resistance of her untried body and his mind registered the truth; she was a virgin.
“You’re killing me!” Emily yelled, beating her fists against his chest. “Get off of me, you beast!” She wiggled and squirmed, trying to dislodge him.
“Be still!” he spat out. His cock was near to bursting. He couldn’t think when each small movement of her luscious body took him to the edge of control. One more little wiggle and he’d forget her tender sensibilities and pump into her until he spilled his seed deep inside her warm body.
She stopped moving. Sweat beaded Noah’s face, the muscles in his neck straining, his forearms tight in their effort to support the bulk of his weight. Be damned! He had to get control. One little jerk, one little movement or sigh and he’d be pounding into her like a madman. If he could maintain control for another moment, he’d be in command again. Then he could ignore Emily’s exquisite tightness and withdraw from her.
“Are you in pain?” she asked, her voice little more than a breath.
Noah refused to look at her. He almost had it, his mind had almost blocked out the feel of her body. Just a few more seconds.
“Noah?”
He would not look at her. He didn’t want to see those big, gray eyes, because that would only make him want to look at her mouth. That luscious mouth with those full, pink lips. His cocked pulsed again.
“I’m sorry if I over-reacted,” she said shyly. “It—it—you’re not hurting me anymore.”
He couldn’t speak.
“I just feel this kind of fullness...down there,” she continued.
Why wouldn’t she just be quiet?
“It’s actually not unpleasant.”
Noah groaned. If she kept talking, he was going to show her what real fullness felt like.
“So if you’d like to proceed...”
His control burst, and he plunged into her, deeply, wildly, wanting all of her.
“God forgive me,” he groaned, burying his face in her neck. “I can’t help myself.” Emily responded with a heat of her own, wrapping her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. She met each thrust with a powerful need of her own, bucking off the bed, moaning his name, pleading for release. Noah worked his fingers between their bodies and stroked her swollen nubbin with his fingertips. Five little strokes was all it took as Emily’s climax came in a rush, draining the very life from her limbs, leaving her spent and exhausted. Noah pumped into her once more, shouted her name, and spilled his seed deep inside her womb.
****
“Emily?” Noah was the first to speak. He lay on his side, studying her as she pretended to sleep. It was evident from her uneven breathing and squinting eyes she was not sleeping, but merely avoiding this inevitable confrontation. “Emily, give over,” Noah tried not to sound exasperated but it was damned difficult. “I know you’re awake.”
Her eyes inched open.
“And you’re naked,” he said, enjoying the shocked look on her face as she tried to cover herself with the rumpled sheet. She’d have to work a little harder if she wanted the damned thing since most of it lay nestled between his legs.
“Don’t.” He lifted her hands from their feeble attempt to cover her breasts. “Your body is beautiful. And I’ve seen it all. Every delectable inch.” She blushed darker than a beet. He traced small circles on her palm and admitted, “I’ve been undressing you in my mind, practically from the moment we met.”
“You have?”
He smiled. “But reality is so much better.” He planted a chaste kiss on her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin?”
“Would it have made a difference?”
“Hell, yes!” The woman could be impossible. Even in bed. “I’m not in the habit of seducing young virgins.”
“Well, now you’ve made an exception,” she said.
“Because,” he continued as though she hadn’t spoken, “I’ve always been able to tell the difference.” He regretted the words as soon as he spoke them. Shock flashed across her face, but it disappeared so quickly he thought he might have imagined it. She turned her face away, lips in a straight line, eyes glued to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry,” Noah stumbled with the word. He wasn’t in the habit of apologizing to a woman—especially in his bed. It had never been necessary before.
“We had a deal. I’ve kept my part.” Her eyes grew bright and shiny.
“A deal? What deal?” The woman would make a saint lose his patience.
Emily continued to stare at the ceiling, blinking several times. Trying to keep the tears at bay, no doubt. Bold, proud Emily.
“You told me you’d take me to America if I came to your bed.” Her lips barely moved as she said the words.
“You thought I’d actually do that? What kind of a beast do you think I am?” He grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. “I intended to send you to America once we reached the West Indies. Bedding you was never part of that plan.”
Her lower lip trembled. “It wasn’t?”
“Of course not,” he growled, angered she should think so little of him. “I’ve wanted you in my bed since the first time I saw you, and it had nothing to do with any bargain.”
She smiled then, a small faint tilting of her lips that made him think she was pleased with what he’d just said. That made him angry. She’d just gotten him to admit a weakness for her. Damn the woman! And damn her to hell for sleeping with him as part of a bargain.
“You, on the other hand, believed that sharing my bed would insure your passage to America. To Christopher St. Simon,” he added, his voice cold and distant. “My scent still clings to your skin and already you’re thinking of another man.”
“No!” she denied, shaking her head. “What happened between us has nothing to do with my getting to A
merica.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that the truth Emily or just another lie? I’m beginning to think the only truths we’ve shared lie right here in this bed.” He reached for a lock of golden hair, fingered its silky texture, and brushed it against her nipple as the bud hardened in response.
She pushed his hand away. “Why do you always believe the worst of me? First you thought me a thief, then a whore, and now a conniver who would sleep with one man to get to another? Is it not possible to consider I possess the same passion to travel to America as any other adventurer, even though I am a woman?”
The notion was inconceivable because he had never met a woman whose determination did not begin and end with ulterior motives centered on increasing wealth or trapping a man, usually him. To entertain the very idea that Emily was different from other women would make her unique. Damn, it would make her irresistible, and that would be a huge problem.
For him.
The man who enjoyed his own harem might fall prey to the charms of one woman alone. Emily. He fought the churning in his gut and pushed the ridiculous notion aside. It was much safer to remain suspicious of her motives. Perhaps he’d test her. “I won’t marry you.” That got her attention. Her head whipped back around and she stared at him as though he’d just claimed first hand association with the devil.
“And I won’t marry you.”
Had she just said she wouldn’t marry him? He must have heard wrong. Women from all over the world wanted to marry him. Of course she wanted to marry him, she was just being coy, because he’d said he wouldn’t marry her. Or maybe it was a trap to make him want her. “Oh, come now, Emily, you know if I offered for you, you’d accept.”
“No, I would not.”
That sounded like a definite no. Merely an angle to lure him in and get him to offer marriage. “No?” he asked again.
“No,” she repeated, her voice rising.
“What if your father demanded it?”