Hold Your Breath 03 - My Captain, My Earl

by K. J. Jackson

  “Make no mistake, Kat,” Jason’s deep voice had gone low, raw. “I always wanted you—I always want you. As much as I denied the fact to myself, that has never changed.”

  If the heat in his words could win her over, Katalin would have melted right then. But her mind, her logic would not allow it. Could not allow it.

  “You want me, but you do not wish to claim me as yours. I understand it, Jason, and I refuse to accept it. I cannot be your mistress. You cannot ruin my chances with the duke just because you want to bed me. I will not—”

  “Stop, Katalin, do not go off again. I rather thought claiming you as my wife in front of the duke would let everyone involved know just where I stand on the matter.”

  “What?” She went to her toes, her face next to his, sniffing. “Are you drunk?”

  “No. God no.” He took a direct step backward. “And do not put yourself that close to me, Kat. I cannot handle it. Not without shoving you back into the bushes and taking you like I should be this very second.”

  “But if you are not drunk…” Her hand went to her forehead behind the ruined feathers, rubbing it. She was starting to truly grasp what he was saying. Starting to actually believe what he was saying. But she could not let hope rise. She knew too well that hope was only disguised torture.

  “I have not touched alcohol since the night at my sister’s dinner. Aggie sobered me. She made more sense than I have possessed in the last month.”

  “What did Aggie say?”

  “She simply told me the duke was about to ask for your hand in marriage.” He swallowed the distance between them again, his hands still firmly behind his back. “Nothing has ever been more sobering. You are my wife, Kat, and against all the hatred I harbored for you during the past two years, I damn still love you. I. Need. You.”

  Katalin drew a shaky breath, her defenses slipping from her control. “You have already destroyed me again and again, Jason. How can I put myself through that once more?”

  “I have no right to ask after what I did to you, but you need to trust me. Please, Kat, please. I was dead, you were dead to me, yet somehow, across an ocean, we found each other again. Do not let my stupidity become the end of us.” He moved even closer, his hand rising to her arm, but not making contact. “Hell, I need to touch you, Kat.”

  The nearest lit torch sent swaths of light across his face, and Katalin stared past his mask, searching his eyes. Searching for intention. For honesty.

  He could ruin everything. He could use her, toss her aside, and she would have nothing. The duke would be gone, and she would have nothing. Nothing to protect herself. Nothing to protect her family.

  Damn herself. Damn her love for this man. Damn that she wasn’t strong enough to hate him. To deny him.

  Damn it all.

  She closed her eyes, her chest rising with a deep breath. Her face tilted upward, and she opened her eyes to him slowly, meeting his burning stare. “So touch me.”

  He jerked a step backward.

  Away from her. The epitome of cruelty.

  She lost her breath.

  “No, do not look at me like that, Kat. I promised the duke. I am not about to ruin you in this garden—scar your reputation. And our time is almost up.”

  “Time be damned. I do not know if I can trust you, Jason—not without touching you. Feeling you. I do not care if I am ruined.”

  “I care. And you do too. You need to get to the doors, Kat.”

  “But we are not done.”

  Jason closed his eyes, and a deep breath of what looked like relief vibrated through his body. “You do not know how badly I needed to hear you say that.” He opened his eyes. “We are not done. So meet me. It is still early. Aggie was rounding the carriage for you?”

  “Yes.”

  Immediate concern crossed his face. “Are you ill?”

  “I am fine. It was just the crush. The tight space. The duke saved me.”

  “Of course he did. He most certainly has not let an opportunity to save you pass him by.” He waved his hand. “Go. My sister is no doubt waiting for you, guarding the prize she is incredibly proud of.”

  “The duke is not a prize, Jason. He is a decent man. A friend. And he has been nothing but gracious to me. If you could stifle your jealousy for even a moment, you might realize that I needed a friend, and that he has been very kind to me.”

  “I prefer to keep my jealousy sharp when it comes to you.”

  “Jason—”

  His palms came up. “I am done. I appreciate that he is a man with exquisite taste in women, if nothing else. And I am thankful he has been a friend to you. I did nothing but create the situation myself. But please, tell me you will meet me? I will follow your carriage and will be waiting a block south of Southfork’s residence, if you think you can sneak out from under your mother’s watch? Tell me you can do so.”

  Katalin cocked her head, a feather dropping in front of her eyes. She brushed it away. “I do not know, Jase. Maybe. I will try, but I cannot promise anything.”

  “I will wait, regardless.”

  { Chapter 18 }

  Her black cape wrapped full around her darkest gown, a deep purple, Katalin pulled the hood further down her forehead. If she was wrong about this. Wrong about Jason. This would be her death sentence. She would be ruined to society. To all titles. To all the safety it could afford her and her family.

  But she needed this. Needed Jason. And if this was her last chance at having him, then she had to take it. Had to have faith the fates would not put them together to only cause more pain for her.

  She tried to soften the sounds of her boots on the cobblestone walkway as she turned the corner at the end of the block. She had waited for her mother to retire to her chambers, and then another hour before she dared to slip out the back entrance of the Southfork townhouse. It took so long, Katalin half-expected there to be no carriage when she rounded the southern street.

  Instead, there were two waiting carriages. At the first carriage, the coachman stood next to the front wheel of his coach, and at the other, the coachman was on the driver’s perch.

  Awkward. How many midnight rendezvouses were happening on this block? Katalin pondered for a moment about how she could she discretely find Jason’s carriage—if one of these was even his. She had no idea what his coat-of-arms even looked like. A pang of so completely not knowing who Jason truly was hit her. She really knew so little of him. Who he had really been all this time?

  Was she being an absolute idiot?

  She set her head further down, hopeful that the shadow of the hood covered her face. She slowed her pace, watching the first coach out of the corner of her hood. The driver stood, tossing back a flask to swallow from as she passed. In the darkness, he looked to take little note of Katalin. She kept walking.

  She passed the driver on his perch of the second coach, and was almost past it when the driver coughed, and then she could swear he said, “Captain.”

  She froze, turning slowly in his direction.

  “Captain?” he repeated.

  She glanced at the windows of the coach—dark curtains were drawn, but a lantern clearly lit the interior.

  Katalin looked up to the driver, already hopping down off his ledge. “Yes.”

  He nodded, and pulled the stairs of the coach, opening the door.

  Heart thundering, Katalin stepped up into the carriage.

  It was empty.

  She turned back to the coachman, still trying to hide her face.

  “We be there in the swish of ‘e horse’s tail.” He closed the door, and within a moment, the horses jolted forward.

  After a courtesy glance about the plush interior, Katalin leaned to the window, cracking the curtains so she could see the passing buildings. Minutes later the carriage stopped in front of a large brick townhouse, one of three on a block. It looked eerily dark inside, as if no one was home.

  Before she could pause to think on it, the carriage door opened and the driver looked up at h
er. “This be it.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. “I ‘ave me an umbrella, if’in ye’d like to be discrete. But yer cloak should do ye fine.”

  “My cloak will do.” Katalin stepped down the carriage steps, pulling the cloak as far forward about her face as she could. She hurried up the marble stairs and stopped at the wide red double-doors. Her hand rose to the gold knocker, and then she paused. Should she knock? She assumed this was Jason’s home, but she truly did not know what this place was. For that matter, she assumed that was Jason’s carriage, but what if she was wrong?

  She shook her head. He had said he would wait for her, but he was not there.

  But who else other than Jason would send someone to her and have him call her “Captain”? The man named Daunte couldn’t possibly know she was in London with her father. Couldn’t possibly know her whereabouts.

  Just as her guard flew up, the door opened in front of her, and a hand reached out, grabbing her wrist and dragging her through the door into the darkness inside.

  She instantly fought the grip on her arm, instinct taking over. The grip only tightened, and she was spun around, arms clamping hard around her body. She went wild, kicking, trying to free herself.

  “Kat, Kat, it is me. It’s me, Kat.” The voice made its way through her hood and it stilled her.

  Jason.

  One arm stayed tight around her, holding her to his body, while his other hand went to her hood, pulling it off her head.

  “What is happening with you, Kat? Why were you so terrified?”

  Her head fell back on his chest as she tried to quell the panic that still raged through her body. Where she could have been—who could have had her, and the repercussions—too severe. Unbearable. She had too much to lose.

  She kept her eyes closed, the back of her head pressing into the hard muscles of Jason’s chest. “Nothing. It was nothing. You were—” She spun out of his one arm and smacked his chest. “You were supposed to be there. Waiting. But the carriage was empty. And this house is dark. And then you grabbed me.”

  Jason snatched her hand before she could swat him again. “I did not want to take the chance of being discovered with you. I am trying to do the right thing, Kat. I am trying to keep your reputation above reproach, so that if you decide…”

  “Decide what, Jason?”

  “Decide that what I have done, how I have treated you, is unforgivable. Decide that you would rather have the duke.” His words came out hard, vicious against the possibility.

  Katalin let her arm drop, and he released her hand. “You are trying to be honorable? Now? On my account?”

  He shrugged. “Asking you to meet me is not exactly honorable, Kat. But I can at least protect you where I can.”

  She stared at him. A loose white linen shirt covered his torso, open wide at his chest. His dark trousers curved well around his thighs, and he was barefoot. She crossed her arms over her chest. “You realize you just scared me half to my grave.”

  “I do. I apologize. Grabbing you off the step was a bit extreme, but you were standing there for far too long. I cleared the house of everyone, but there are a lot of snoops in the other houses on this block.”

  Katalin’s head tilted up as she scanned the entryway they were in. She could see up two stories, and above them, there was a room with a door slightly ajar, fire flickering light into the entry. “Is this your home?”

  “Yes. One of them.”

  “One of them?” She shook her head. “I really do not know anything of you, Jason. All of this. You told me nothing of this. Of who you are.”

  “Would it have mattered? I told you of my family. You knew me. The me without all of this. I never lied. And you never asked.”

  “How would I even know to ask this, Jason?” Her arm swung wide. “All of this makes you who you are. Everything you are is built upon this privilege.”

  “No. Everything I am is built upon my family. Upon the people who raised me, supported me, loved me. Upon seeing the world. Upon pain. Upon torture. Upon meeting you.” He moved closer to her. “That is who I am. Not houses. Not money. Not a title. If I had told you then, would it have mattered? Would you not have been my captain?”

  Katalin looked up at him, the familiar heat in his dark green eyes already searing her soul. Her head went back and forth. “No. Nothing like this matters on the sea.”

  His hand came up slowly, nearing her cheek, almost touching her skin. But then he stilled, hand suspended in mid-air, neither touching nor drawing away.

  Katalin wanted desperately to lean into his hand, to feel the warmth of his palm on her cheek, to feel her skin tingle as his fingers went into her hair.

  But she held fast. She knew she was desperate for him—ready to give up the world for him—ready to give up too much. She still had responsibility.

  He drew a deep breath, his hand twitching. “Before I touch you, Kat, you need to know. Under the willow, you said I did not wait for you—wait for this next life. Do you remember?”

  She swallowed hard, not flinching from his stare or the pain of the memory. “Yes.”

  “You appeared out of thin air, Kat. And you found me when I was living between two lives. I was stuck between the old life I was trying desperately to forget—the life with you—and the new life I did not want to move forward into it. Not without you. For two years I was stuck in that purgatory. And then I saw you by that pond.”

  “And I saw a ghost.”

  “Yes. That was exactly what you saw. I was stuck. Stuck in what happened—what I thought happened. What I blamed you for. But I should have known. You would have never done that to me.”

  Katalin’s knees went weak. Weak in the relief that he finally believed her. That he didn’t blame her. His hand still hovered by her head, and she could stand it no longer.

  She reached up, her fingers slipping along the back of his hand, pressing it to her face. The instant his palm flattened on her skin, she leaned into it, closing her eyes, tears slipping out.

  Jason’s other hand came up, cupping the opposite side of her face. “Tell me you waited. Tell me you did not give up on us. Tell me we can still be.” He tilted her chin upward. “Look at me, Kat.”

  She opened her eyes.

  “I am ready, Kat. Ready. I am fully here in this next life. Fully ready. You are my wife, and I desperately want to never have to deny that again. Please, Kat.”

  The reality of his words, as true as the sun, made it into her mind, her heart, and Katalin swayed, but only for an instant. An instant that coiled her legs, and in the next she sprung on him, arms tight about his neck, both legs wrapping around his waist. She buried her face in his neck, her lips on the salt of his skin as he staggered backward, catching his balance.

  Laughing, one arm tight around her waist, clamping her body to his, he grabbed the nape of her hair with his free hand, pulling her head back to see her face. “Tell me this means you forgive me. Tell me I have my wife again.”

  “Yes—God yes—you have me, Jase.” She met his lips hard, tasting him, remembering what it had been to be his, the heat of him, his strength. His lips parted, taking her in, just as hungry as she was.

  She jerked away, eyes wide. “But wait. I still do not know if we are legally married—not with your laws.”

  “I will marry you a thousand times over, Katalin, but we cannot do anything about that in this moment.” His lascivious smile followed his eyes as they shifted down to where the white skin of the top of her bosom peeked out from under her cloak. “But we can do other things. I will wait—dammit it to hell—I will wait if you want to, Kat. Until we can marry again with no possibility of it not being legal. But then you sure as hell need to get off me.”

  “I am not getting off of you for the life of me, Jase.”

  His mouth captured hers as he took a step forward, propping her back onto the wall by the door. Supported by the wall, her legs still tight around his waist, Jason pulled back, leaving her lips plump and raw. Both hands fr
ee, he worked the front clasp on her dark cloak, and by the time it dropped from her shoulders, exposing her chest, he growled in impatience, his fingers slipping under the front lace trim of her dress.

  “Tear it. Just tear it, Jase,” she whispered, her breath trembling.

  He glanced at her, pure carnal smile crossing his face. In the next instant, fabric ripped and he yanked the front ribbon of her short stays, freeing her. He grabbed her hips, lifting her higher to pull her left nipple into his mouth, his teeth capturing, tongue teasing.

  Katalin’s hands went into his hair, gripping, holding him hard to her body even as she arched on the wall.

  “Damn, I am an imbecile—I waited far too long for you—for this—these.” He shifted to her other nipple, already taut with the cool air.

  Her face went down, burying into the top of his head. “And I have waited far too long to have you deep in me.”

  “You are ready?”

  “I have never stopped being ready.”

  Hands still on her hips, he pulled her from the wall, spinning them and stalking across to the stairs. She pulled up on the back of his shirt, yanking it over his head as he walked.

  He stopped, setting her on the third step up of the mahogany stairs, and he shrugged the white linen shirt off his arms. Leaning over Katalin, his hands went under her skirt, moving up past her boots, fingers trailing along the outside of her thighs. Mid-thigh, he stopped motion, and with a wicked grin, he slowly—too slowly for Katalin—veered inwards, leaving wakes of prickled skin behind his fingertips.

  Hands roaming his chest, the hard lines on his belly that she had never forgotten, her arms slipped to his back, fingers running over the lines of scars. He was still perfect. Her perfect.

  Deep under her skirts, a finger, then two, slipped into her folds, and Katalin almost lost control, buckling. He plied her as she strained into his hand, gasping against the years without him. Years she had dreamt of this. Of him.

  He chuckled. “You truly are ready, Kat.”

  “Did you expect me to lie about this? Never this. Never you.” Katalin worked the buttons on his trousers, searching for the skin underneath, searching to free the bulge she could feel pulsating.