The Captain's Lady

by Robecca Austin

  The next time she held her husband close, there would be no question as to her desires.

  The shopkeeper chose that moment to enter the room. “Afternoon, my lady. My name is Maria.”

  She announced her name with such boldness Isabella lifted her head in surprise. Maria was plump, wide hipped, and her low neckline garnered the right amount of interest. She was attractive. Full features and the mysterious glint in her eyes hid her age. Her Spanish accent added to her air of intrigue.

  Isabella smiled and wondered what other secrets the duchess kept to herself.

  Her regular dressmaker normally hurried around her shop in a fluster of skirts at the beck of spoiled young ladies all wanting her attention. But not Maria: she was confident as she moved further into the room with no sense of urgency. And Isabella had a feeling the woman’s skirts never rustled unless it was her intent.

  Isabella frowned. How had she missed such a presence?

  As if reading her thoughts, Maria said, “I like to give my visitors time to browse with all their senses. If they have not fled by the time I arrive, they are less likely to swoon at my suggestions.”

  No, her regular dress shops would certainly not do today.

  Isabella cleared her throat, the action fortifying her courage as well. “I would… I mean, I was hoping…” Oh this was not a very good start. This woman would think her a ninny!

  “Who do you wish to seduce?”

  Isabella blushed. “How…”

  Maria smiled. “This shop is for amour. My visitors come for romance.”

  “My husband.”

  Maria considered her for a moment, as if measuring Isabela’s sincerity. She felt like a very small butterfly. The woman’s narrowed eyes did nothing to ease her growing discomfort. And just when she decided the visit was a mistake, Maria’s fingers snapped with assurance.

  “Come, we have work to do. If a man such as yours is not tempted by your beauty, he must be loco.”

  Isabella said nothing when the woman sent a charming smile over her shoulder. She followed Maria to the back of the shop and into a small change room surrounded by tall mirrors.

  “Tell me, senora, what do you know of seduction?” Maria asked as she tidied the small space, picking a few discarded items from the seat.

  Isabella flushed. Nicholas was a worldly man. The little knowledge she had would not do. Her beauty, as Maria said, had not held Emsley’s attention, and she refused to suffer the same fate with her husband.

  Looking up from her task, Maria smiled patiently. “A hint of innocence is a strong lure. Dios mio, a man likes to know his woman is not tutored in all things.” She picked up the last forgotten garment and placed the pile on the seat. “Turn around.”

  Doing as she was told, Isabella offered Maria her back and felt efficient fingers loosen the laces of her dress. “Is this necessary?” Isabella moved just out of reach.

  “It’s a pretty dress, but your husband does not need a lady to warm the sheets. He needs wicked. Someone who will make him not seek expert courtesans.”

  Isabella swallowed. They stared at each other through the mirror. Maria’s hands were on her generous hips. When Isabella had set out to entice Nicholas, she had only thought of a new fragrance, or perhaps an appetizing meal prepared from one of Miss Conley’s special menus. She had even toyed with the notion of broaching the topic with Virginia—after all, she had been married once.

  She felt her resolve slipping and crumbling into a million pieces. Once again, she offered her back. Her dress came loose, the sleeves sliding from her shoulders with lazy grace.

  “That is how you undress for him, senora.” The garment slid past her corset, the curve of her hips, to pool around her feet. Every uncovered part of her skin tingled from the exposure and boldness Maria suggested. “He must wait to taste your fruit, no?”

  Each movement was filled with sensual purpose.

  The reflection in the mirror held glimpses of a new woman. A woman she barely recognized. Never before had she felt desirable. For brief moments, maybe, perhaps a time or two in her youth. But never this pulsing boldness that overcame her now; never this desire to flirt with her image.

  Nicholas was different. Almost cautious around her, as if holding himself at a distance. This was not the impulsive captain she desired. She wanted her brash Nicholas, the man who’d kissed and seduced her.

  Had she pushed him too far? Was she fooling herself, thinking she could win his heart?

  Isabella straightened her spine, she had changed too. Instead of fear, she yearned for the future the three of them might build. It had taken some doing, but she’d forgiven her father and was beginning to understand his shame—not in her, but of his own actions. She was also learning to trust again. She trusted Nicholas, she realized with a start.

  He dared her to be more. Everything about him tested her in ways she never imagined. Though he spoke no words of love and honor, he inspired courage and passion.

  She loved him. It bubbled like hot lava inside her.

  Maria slipped from behind the curtain, startling Isabella. She had not noticed the other woman’s disappearance.

  Maria placed a few items on the chair, then held up a red lacy corset against Isabella’s chest. “This will do,” Maria said, helping her into the clothing.

  Isabella’s eyes quickly examined the other items. The fabrics demanded attention. Soft silks and lace. The undergarments—Isabella swallowed—hid nothing with their scandalous cuts and close fit.

  The stockings were the first to slip into place. The garter belts came next, fastened from the top of the low stockings to the corset.

  Isabella gasped.

  Her breasts were barely concealed by the corset. The lace rubbed against her nipples, causing them to stiffen with movement. A blush washed over her neck. Despite the tension growing in her breasts, the material was soft. Isabella trailed her hand along her stomach, surprised when the material warmed under her touch. Red mesh lace covered the entire corset, offering glimpses of skin beneath.

  Soft lace garters held the stockings high on her thighs and made her legs appear longer. Inviting. Isabella’s fingers touched the small white bows tickling the top of each thigh. Maria’s words came to mind. Hint of innocence.

  “You like?”

  She did. What would Nicholas think of his wife dressed so wantonly? It was not uncommon for men to seek their more randy pleasures elsewhere. She had always been told her place was to produce an heir and act as hostess. Isabella wanted a different marriage, however, and she was selfish enough not to want to share Nicholas’s affection with another woman.

  The bell chimed, signaling another customer. Maria gave her one last look of satisfied approval before dipping behind the curtain, leaving her to her own devices.

  Provocative. That was the only word that described the reflection staring back at her.

  It was too much. The lingerie, the fragrance, and for heaven’s sake, what did Maria intend her to do with the rope?

  Her breath hitched as a brazen thought came to mind.

  She very much liked this game of seduction and the power coursing through her veins. With renewed confidence, she carefully removed the clothing, slipping back into her day dress. Taking a deep breath, Isabella placed her hands against her cheek. They were cool against her flaming skin. A few more adjustments and she righted her mussed hair, concealing the tangled strands set loose by Nicholas.

  Sure not to leave any clothing behind, she moved the curtain aside and left the small dressing room.

  Nearly to the front of the store, Isabella stopped. She hadn’t expected to see the woman she’d seen earlier at Nicholas’s warehouse again, least not so soon. Placing the items on the counter, she did her best to ignore the woman.

  Maria quickly folded the corset and wrapped each item before placing them into a box, closing the lid. She was immensely grateful for the shopkeeper’s efficiency. The woman she had recognized from the docks chose that precise moment to
approach the counter.

  Isabella braced herself.

  The faint fragrance of sweet rose flooded her senses first. It was not overpowering. Almost inviting. Was that what intrigued Nicholas, Isabella wondered. The smell of a flower garden on a woman. Fresh. Sweet. Delicate, like the petals of a lily.

  All at once she hated lilies. And roses for that matter!

  Isabella wrinkled her nose. No, Nicholas did not desire delicate, that she knew of her husband.

  The swish of skirts brushed Isabella’s leg. This woman had no intention of fleeing, nor did she feel any shame, Isabella noted from the smug look on her face. The thought of meeting one of her husband’s paramours never occurred to her, especially twice in one day.

  “Thank you, Maria.” Isabella reached for the box.

  “For you, senora, it was my pleasure.”

  “Hope I haven’t scared you away.”

  Isabella stared at the woman, surprised she actually had the gall to address her in public. Of course the woman spoke. Isabella mentally shook herself. That she chose to address Isabella directly was what shocked her.

  Quickly stretching her lips into what Isabella hoped to be a pleasant smile, she said, “I wouldn’t dare deprive you of Maria’s full attention.”

  “I’m Judith, by the way.”

  That was not the name Isabella wanted to call her. Isabella nodded. She was positive the woman knew who she was, and likely all the gossip surrounding her marriage. In fact, she had the distinct feeling she’d been followed to the shop.

  “Good day.” Gathering her parcel, Isabella strode past Judith.

  “Of all the days and nights Nicholas and I spent aboard, he never once mentioned a wife.”

  “And why would he entertain you in polite conversation?” Isabella asked in a casual tone that betrayed the tightening in her chest. She wanted to wipe the smug arch from Judith’s brow. “Your services required but one use for your tongue.”

  “Don’t you want to know what happened between us?”

  Isabella paused. She raised her lashes to Judith’s pinched lips. Judith’s smug smile was replaced by anger. “I can guess your skill at entertainment, and I’m sure all aboard took pleasure in your presence.”

  Judith gasped.

  Without a backwards glance, Isabella left the shop, the street noise drowning out everything but the image Judith had created of her husband.

  Twenty Seven

  Door ajar, Isabella stood outside Nicholas’s bedchamber. Studying him without his knowledge rarely happened, except for brief moments of distraction.

  The room was dark. A single candle lit the space from its perch on the vanity. His back faced her. The flicker of candlelight played across the room, never touching the eluded corners. Instead, it danced around him, afraid of being swallowed by the tension she felt.

  Turning away from the window, he prowled his quarters. Stopping at the wash basin, both hands slipped beneath the cool water to splash his face. A growl escaped his lips when that didn’t satisfy his purpose. Snatching a towel, he roughly dried his face.

  Isabella bit back a gasp as he pulled his shirt over the broad planes of his back, then head, discarding it on the side chair. Muscles rippled in its wake. Licking her lips, she took a tentative step towards her husband, remembering too well the feel of those broad shoulders above her, strong arms wrapped around her waist, and the thrill of him cupping her sensitive breasts as he made love to her.

  A shudder ran along her spine. Feeling self-conscious about what she’d chosen to wear, Isabella’s fingers skimmed the material, and she wondered if she’d been too bold.

  He was almost naked now, except for pants, which gaped at the waist. Her stomach clenched and unclenched.

  Smoothing the thin silk nightgown that hugged her curves, a smile tugged the corners of her lips. Her fingers tingled from his nearness as excitement washed over her. She wanted him, this man who defied all others.

  He had honored his vows. He’d proven that by coming home.

  To their home.

  In the past few weeks, she’d thought often of sharing a home with Nicholas. Now that he was home, she wanted nothing more than for him to remain here.

  She loved him. And it no longer mattered if that love was returned. She loved enough for both of them. In time, when they were surrounded by their children and he found he could trust her with his heart…perhaps then, he would have discovered he’d loved her all along. Perhaps then, he would utter the words.

  She needed their marriage. Too much was at stake. Cassie and any life they could have together would be ruined if their marriage did not work.

  Joy swept through her. She’d have to make him see reason, show him that he, too, deserved more than a loveless marriage.

  Isabella took another step towards the door, then froze. What if that was all he wanted: an empty marriage so long as Cassie remained happy? Her chest squeezed. No, she shook the condemning notion aside. There had to be more to marriage than this.

  She must have made some sound. His movements stilled.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked warily, his back still turned away. His thumbs tucked into the waistband of his pants, keeping them from sliding to the floor.

  “No I…” She stood behind him.

  “Is Cassie ill?”

  “No. She missed you dearly. She thought… We all thought.”

  He didn’t answer for a time. “I gave her my word, my captain’s honor—”

  “That no sea shall ever take you. Cassie reminded us often enough.” Isabella sighed. He truly believed those words.

  “She’s right.” His voice held true affection, whether from knowing his little girl missed him, or that she remembered their pact, Isabella didn’t know. A bit of both, she suspected.

  “I’ve missed you too,” Isabella whispered.

  The air grew thick with awareness.

  In the shadows of light, she saw him rotate his shoulders as if the muscles there needed stretching. It seemed an eternity, rather than mere seconds. She wanted to scream, “Look at me, say something, anything.”

  “Did you?”

  She stepped close, wanting to rid him of any doubt. Some of the hurt in his voice was her doing.

  “Of course I missed you. You’re my husband.”

  When he simply grunted, she took hold of his shoulders. He was stone beneath her touch. The muscles under her hand flexed and rippled.

  “Leave,” he growled, giving her ample warning.

  “No.” Shaking her head, she stood her ground. They needed to talk, or they would soon have no marriage.

  Nicholas cursed. “I’m trying to hold fast to your wishes.”

  “I know.” Her hand moved along his back.

  “You’re not making it easy.”

  She kissed his back and heard his swift intake of air. “I know.”

  His thumbs released their hold on his pants. Isabella’s eyes widened when he faced her. Nicholas stood before her in all his male glory. She tried to take a step back, but his hand snaked around her waist.

  “Oh no, wife, you had your chance to flee.”

  Isabella had no intention of leaving. Her gaze drew to his fully erect shaft and she flushed.

  “Tell me, what else did you miss?”

  He was being a rogue, baiting her into bedroom talk, knowing she wouldn’t say what he wanted to hear.

  “We should talk…agh!” He took her earlobe between his teeth and tugged, then moved to nibble on the side of her neck.

  Isabella sucked in a shuddering breath and shut her eyes. He had never felt more delicious.

  “Lost your tongue, wife?” He emphasized the title wife by firmly squeezing her buttocks in the palm of his hand. “Speak,” he urged.

  How could she? He was too close. Too intoxicating. And she wanted him exactly where he was.

  This moment, here, now, had played a dozen times in her mind. Not once had it been like the unrestrained hunger coursing through her limbs. She wanted th
is. They needed this.

  “I’ve missed you,” she said, breathless.

  “Hmm. So you’ve said.”

  His lips played over her skin. At times with the feather light whispers of a new lover, nibbling a slow trail of heat along the sensitive spots. Then he calmed the fire with the tease of his demanding tongue. She lost all thought in the arms of her husband. Her body responded, thighs squeezing together, begging for what only Nicholas could give.

  When her limbs were no longer strong enough to hold her weight, he picked her up, holding her close until his cock pulsed at her core. They both gasped at the unexpected heat. With her legs wrapped around his trim waist, Nicholas growled when her hips bucked, seeking more of him. Hands on her bottom, he took them to the bed.

  Expert fingers parted the thin vale separating them. “Beautiful.” He cupped her breasts, first one then the other.

  She arched into his touch.

  “Look at me.”

  Isabella did as he commanded. When he licked the valley between her breasts, she shivered in anticipation. Watching Nicholas envelop one ripened peak, then the other into his mouth, was erotic, and each swipe fed the liquid fire at her core.

  Time stood still. Nothing else mattered. Fingers buried deep into the strands of his hair, she held him close.

  “I’ve missed you,” she repeated, spurred by dark stormy eyes.

  “Then welcome me home.”

  Knowing exactly what he wanted, Isabella reached between her legs and opened herself to him, her eyes never leaving his. His sharp intake of breath fired her wanton actions.

  Wicked need surged in the depths of his eyes, and Isabella knew he couldn’t resist for long. He kissed her knees. Her thighs. His tongue sent small jolts along her skin until he finally settled where he wanted to be.

  Small, tender kisses were planted between her thighs. His lips settled where her fingers still held, and she arched towards him. Her hips bucked upward of their own accord, seeking the warmth of his mouth.

  Her hands slipped away, giving him full access until he growled, stopping the glorious sensation. Panting, they stared at each other, his tongue licking along his lower lip.