Once a Mistress

by Debra Mullins

  “Watch yerself now,” Birk warned. “That’s dirty work.”

  She grinned up at him. “This was always the best part, Birk. I wonder if I still remember how.” She glanced at the seaman, a grizzled oldster with one eye and missing teeth. “May I?”

  The sailor glanced uncertainly at Birk. Before the physician could answer the unspoken question, the captain’s voice interrupted.

  “Let the lady try.” A mocking smile spread across Alex’s face as he crossed the deck. He stopped several paces away. “She has an affinity for sharp objects.”

  She stiffened. His sarcastic tone indicated that he expected her to back down or fumble with the blade. She raised her chin. Taking the proffered knife from the old man, she picked up a fish.

  Her hands remembered the motions even as the memories crowded her mind. As if it were yesterday, she relived happier times with her father as they had fished in the river near Covington Hall. She could feel again his larger, adult hands guiding her smaller, child’s hands as he taught her how to slit the fish from tail to gill and how to clean the guts from the cavity. With practiced strokes learned from her sire, she sliced upwards along the head, down the length of the spine and then deftly flipped the fillet over to slice the meat from the skin. She repeated the procedure on the other side of the fish, remembering the first time she had done it, and the mouth-watering flavor of her first catch. Though the fish had tasted delicious seasoned with lemon and precious pepper, she had savored her father’s pride even more.

  Her father meant the world to her. And the one man who could save his life refused to help her.

  She flipped the fish scraps into the barrel and the fillets into the basket. Handing the knife back to its owner, she took the rag Birk handed her, wiped off her hands and stood.

  Alex arched a brow. “Impressive.”

  She smiled sweetly in return. “You said it yourself, sir. I am well versed in the use of a blade.”

  “That is well-known to those who have felt the prick of your sharp tongue, my sweet.” He grinned like the pirate he was. “Of course, only I have experienced the pleasure you can provide as well.”

  She gasped, heat searing her cheeks, as the men roared with laughter. For a moment she could say nothing for the chagrin that swept through her. But as she watched Alex laugh, how he threw his head back, the contrast of white teeth against tanned skin, a calm settled over her. She smiled at him, then slowly ran her tongue over her lips.

  His laughter ceased, and his face tightened with desire. The men seemed to notice nothing amiss. Indeed, they probably expected such behavior from the captain’s mistress. For the first time in her life, Diana realized she could do as she wished with no one to hold her back, no one to remind her of the rules that governed a lady.

  For here she wasn’t a lady. She was El Moreno’s woman.

  She fancied the idea. With a slow, seductive smile, she propped her hands on her hips and tilted her head to eye him provocatively.

  “Now, now, captain,” she teased in a throaty voice. “You know my…skills…are not for public airing.”

  She heard Birk snicker from behind her, but kept her gaze on Alex. His face showed stunned surprise before he narrowed his eyes. Even several paces away, she could feel the intensity of his regard, as surely as if he had placed his hands on her.

  “Are you telling me what to do?” he asked in a quiet, dangerous voice.

  She grinned and glanced at the crew, then back at him. “Of course not, my love. I save that for when we are alone.”

  The men hooted. To Diana’s delight, a ruddy hue crept into Alex’s cheeks. Her blood raced with a reckless abandon she had never before been permitted to exhibit. She knew she teased a tiger. She just didn’t care. After all, what could he do to her? She already knew enough to decide with some degree of accuracy that he would not harm her. And if he took her to his bed? She grinned at the thought. All the better.

  She sauntered over to him, half expecting him to move away. But then she realized that such a maneuver would be construed as a retreat by his men. She had him right where she wanted him. Holding his gaze, she traced a finger down the front of his shirt.

  “Do not fret, my love,” she teased. “I am certain your men still respect you.”

  He grabbed her wrist and held it still. She could see the pulse throbbing at the base of his throat and the way he clenched his jaw. He was not as unaffected as he pretended.

  “Do not play games with me,” he murmured for her ears alone. “I have no patience for a little girl’s flirtations.”

  She stroked his lip with the index finger of her free hand. “This is no flirtation, sir. I only express my feelings.”

  “You only want me to help your father,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

  “I do,” she answered softly. “But that has nothing to do with this.”

  “The hell it doesn’t.”

  “Look at me, Alex,” she whispered. “Could I pretend the way my body reacts to you? Could I feign the way my pulse pounds or the way I cannot seem to look away from you? Or this?”

  Mustering her courage, she leaned up and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, not fiery and passionate like the others. But it was freely given. And that, she hoped, would make the difference.

  He broke the kiss. “Perhaps we should discuss this further,” he said with a silky tone that sent a ripple down her spine. “Let us retire to my cabin.”

  She knew he expected her to back down. “An excellent idea,” she agreed, and was satisfied to see the startlement cross his face before he hid it. “We should discuss this in private. I await your convenience, captain.”

  “Now is convenient.” He signaled to the physician. “Birk will escort you below. I will join you directly.”

  She took the arm the Scotsman extended. “Do not take long,” she murmured, then allowed Birk to lead her away. She could feel Alex’s gaze on her, but never looked back.

  “Verra good,” Birk murmured to her. “He looks like ye clubbed him wi’ a belayin’ pin.”

  “Good,” she retorted. “We will soon see if I made a dent in that stubborn skull.”

  Birk left her at the door. Diana went immediately to the basin, poured water in it and began to wash the scent of fish from her skin. Her hands were shaking.

  What had come over her?, she wondered. Two days ago she had been an over-protected maid with dreams of El Moreno. Today she trembled in anticipation of sharing a bed with that very man.

  How had it happened so quickly? She knew she had feelings for Alex, but she didn’t want to accept the idea that she could fall in love with such an unsuitable man. There was no future in loving El Moreno. Chances of his survival were slim. If he didn’t die in battle, then most probably the law would see him hanged for piracy. No, she could not admit to such feelings.

  Better to lose herself in passion. Aye, her first feelings of desire for a man were more than enough to compel her to this pass. True, she had attempted to entice Alex to obtain his help for her father, but the attraction she felt was real. Never in her life had she experienced such stirrings. Indeed, they overwhelmed her. But she couldn’t deny them. She didn’t have to.

  She still wanted him to help her father, but better that he do so because he believed in her father’s innocence, rather than because she had gone willingly to his bed. Now she knew that if Alex were to take up her cause, he would do anything and everything to help her. And because she would go to his bed out of desire, no taint would affect whatever happened between them.

  With her father’s fate a separate issue, she made a woman’s choice to give herself to the man she wanted.

  The door clicked open. She whirled around, her hands still wet, to see Alex standing in the doorway. He closed the door without taking his gaze from her.

  “What game do you play with me, woman?” he asked softly. His voice brushed over her like satin over bare flesh.

  The now familiar ripple of desire shook her. “As I told you, I pla
y no game.”

  He laughed. “Every woman plays a game, my sweet. Women are born plotting.”

  She raised her brows. “I do not know what sort of women you have encountered, sir, but I do not plot.”

  “Do you not?” He approached her slowly, as if he expected her to bolt with each step that brought him closer.

  Her breathing quickened as he stalked her, though not from fear. She could feel his nearness, though he had not yet touched her. Excitement surged through her on a wave of need.

  “You fear for naught,” she insisted, her voice breathy with excitement. “What you see before you is all I am.”

  “What I see before me,” he mused, taking her chin in his hand, “is a pretty child toying with a woman’s schemes.”

  “I am no child, Alex.” She met his gaze. “As well you know. I am a woman. And I want you.”

  He moved his hand from her chin to brush his knuckles over her cheek. “So simple. You want me. Yet you know not what you ask.”

  “Why do you persist in thinking me some naive little girl?” She covered his hand with hers. “I know what goes on between a man and a woman. And I know what I want. Just because I have never lain with a man, does not mean I cannot recognize honest desire when I feel it.”

  “Honest desire.” He turned his hand to clasp hers and brought her fingers to his lips. “Would it not be crowded in my bed,” he murmured, “with all three of us there?”

  “Three?” Her eyes widened.

  He laughed. “What a wicked mind you have, my dear. I am referring to the three of us: you, me and your father.”

  “I told you, my father has nothing to do with this.”

  “He has everything to do with this!” Releasing her, he stepped back. “He is the reason you suddenly long for my bed. I do remember you declaring, not a day ago, that you would fight me should I try to bed you. To your last breath, I believe you said.”

  “I was frightened,” she replied. “I didn’t know you. I didn’t know what to make of these feelings you bring out in me.”

  “You still do not know me.”

  She gave him a confident smile. “I know more about you than you think.”

  “In that case, my dear,” he said, reaching out to stroke his finger down her cheek, “you should be frightened indeed.”

  She took his hand and boldly pressed it to her heart. “You do not scare me, Alex. This is what you do to me. My body is not my own whenever you are near.”

  He stroked his thumb over the upper curve of her breast. Her heart skipped into double time. She watched his face, how his eyes narrowed in concentration until she could see little more than the gleam of desire through his long, thick lashes.

  His sensual lips parted as he continued to rub his thumb against her skin.

  “Alex,” she whispered, helpless in the storm of emotions that rushed over her. She wanted to glide her mouth over the tanned flesh of his cheekbones and curl her fingers into that silky black hair. Her palms itched to slide beneath the black cambric of his shirt and test the resilience of his muscular chest and shoulders.

  “Easy, my sweet.” He stepped away, taking the warmth of his touch with him. She wanted to cry out at the loss.

  “Now who plays a game?” she asked, frustrated. Closing her hands into fists, she turned away from him.

  “Diana.” He came up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. She took a deep, shuddering breath as his touch sent her blood surging again.

  “I don’t know what you want from me,” she whispered. “I have never felt this way before. You will have to forgive my clumsiness, since the rules of polite society do not dictate the correct procedure for this circumstance.”

  “You aren’t clumsy.”

  “Innocent then. Naive. I can’t deny it.” She reached up to touch his fingers with her own. “Yet I have always known there was more to life than my limited world allowed.” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “And I wanted to experience it.”

  He sighed. His breath swept over the flesh of her neck and made her tremble. “Diana, you are young. You have your whole life ahead of you.”

  “What life?” she scoffed. “I am like a pampered pet kept in a cage. I must walk a certain path, always the perfect lady. Rules and conventions are my jailers. I am preened and primped to attract a suitable husband, though I have no voice in the choosing of him.” She let her head fall back against his shoulder. “I much prefer your way of life.”

  “The sea is no place for a lady.”

  “But don’t you see?” She turned to face him. “I don’t want to be a lady. I want to be a woman free to make her own choices. Even a child has more options.”

  “You cannot change who you are,” Alex argued. “You are a woman of good family, and you must live as one.”

  She glanced askance at him. “When I was a child, I had more freedom than I do now. I went where I wanted. I played. I ran. I filleted fish! Now my life consists of an endless number of balls and routs, the purpose of which is to display me like prize goods at the market.”

  “You would rather be hungry? Homeless?”

  “Of course not.” She shook her head. “I merely want the freedom to make my own decisions. To live where I choose, go where I choose.” She gave him a pointed look. “Love whom I choose.”

  He stepped back. “Do not speak to me of love, Diana.”

  “Not love then. Passion. Is that a more comfortable word for you?” She came to him and slid her hands up his chest. Standing on tiptoe, she pressed a kiss to his lips, her heart beating wildly as she awaited rejection.

  Miraculously, he returned the kiss, then pulled back. “I can’t do this,” he said through gritted teeth. Raking both hands through his hair, he turned his back on her.

  “Then tell me why. And tell me the truth. Is it because you simply do not find me attractive?”

  He laughed and glanced over his shoulder at her. “No, my dear. That is not the problem at all.”

  “Is it my father?”

  “No. I am starting to believe you, damn it.” He bowed his head and sighed. When she saw him rub the back of his neck with a weary gesture, she couldn’t stay away.

  She moved up behind him and touched his arm. “This is the first decision I have made about my own life, ever, Alex. It may be the last.”

  “There are things you don’t understand, Diana. Things I cannot explain.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “How I envy you your freedom, Alex. I could learn to live this life all too easily.”

  He let out a harsh laugh. “The life of a pirate? I doubt it.”

  “You underestimate me, sir.” She sighed. “I would love to feel the sun on my face, rather than tote a sunshade about lest I freckle. And I would love to be busy with tasks that need to be done, rather than being dragged about to balls and routs and dinners.”

  “Most women would thrive in that sort of lifestyle.”

  “I am not most women,” she retorted. “I would rather fillet fish than dance the minuet with some foppish lord, however suitable he might be. I would rather wear comfortable clothes instead of the latest styles and all the restrictions that go with them. I would like to feel the wind blow through my hair instead of having to be cautious of every carefully placed curl.” She sighed and shook her head. “How lovely it would be.”

  “We are all prisoners, Diana. In one way or another.”

  Since he had not shrugged off her touch, she grew bolder and rubbed his shoulders with both hands. “Perhaps we both have things in our lives that prevent us from having true freedom. But can we not, just for a little while, take something for ourselves?”

  “You tempt me, little one.”

  “Alex, you have already declared me your mistress before the men. We would be merely making truth of a lie.” She rested her forehead against his back. “No one would know.”

  “I would know.” He turned and took her upper arms in his hands, pulling her against him. She closed her eyes at the pleasu
re of being in his embrace. Nuzzling against his chest, she enjoyed the way his sandalwood scent sparked her senses and sent them reeling.

  “Diana.” His voice sounded hoarse. With a deliberate motion, he set her away from him. “I cannot do this.”

  She made a little sound of protest as she was denied the warmth of his body. “Alex, please.”

  He backed away. “I cannot. There are things you don’t understand, Diana. And I do not want to hurt you.”

  “You hurt me now,” she said. She took a deep breath to hold back the tears that threatened. She would not cry in front of him, she vowed silently.

  “I would hurt you even more, perhaps beyond repair, if I were to give in to what I want.” He sighed and reached back for the door latch. “It’s better this way.”

  She shrugged. “As you wish, captain. I am but your prisoner and have no say in anything.”

  He scowled. “Diana…”

  “Go.”

  “If I could,” he said, his voice taut with his own need, “I would take you to bed and never let you go.”

  “You can,” she retorted. Still fighting the tears, she tilted her chin. “I simply did not realize, captain, that you are more a prisoner than I.”

  “As I told you, we are all prisoners.”

  “Some of us of our own making,” she snapped. “Now please leave, sir. I grow weary.”

  “As you wish.” He opened the door and paused to look back at her. “But just so you know…I do find you very desirable.”

  He left, closing the door behind him. She took another deep breath, successfully holding tears at bay. “I believe you, Alex,” she said to the empty room. “But there is obviously something you desire even more.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Night approached with a speed that made Alex want to shake a fist at the setting sun. He had spent the day on deck, barking orders to his men in a voice that made all but McBride give him wide berth. He oversaw the repairs and brooded, watching with a frown as the sun had sunk lower and lower in the sky. Each hour had brought him closer to the night…and the thought of Diana sleeping in his bed.