“Dear God.”
“I did my best to catch him. Broke my arm in the process. But it wasn’t enough, though I daresay it might have been best if I’d done nothing at all.” When she stared back at him with incomprehension, he had no choice but to say, “The fall didn’t kill him straight away. It took a while, during which he suffered tremendous amounts of pain.”
“Was there nothing to be done?” Her hand had somehow found his while he’d been talking.
“I tried. The physician I usually brought along with me had family near Dover, so I’d dropped him off on the way and continued to London without him, confident I wouldn’t need him for the remaining distance. So I ordered Quinn to fetch a physician post haste.”
“But Luke didn’t make it. Did he?”
Too agitated to remain seated, Devlin stood and clasped his hands behind his back. “No. He died before Quinn returned.” But that wasn’t all. There was more to the story – the reason he no longer drove past St. James’s. He just couldn’t seem to get the rest of the words out.
And then she suddenly stood and her hand found his cheek, and whatever else he’d meant to confess was completely forgotten. “Guilt is a wretched emotion. I’m sorry you’ve had to live with it for so long.”
He stood, transfixed by the unshed tears causing her eyes to shimmer. Most people would have said they were sorry Luke had died or that Devlin wasn’t to blame. As captain, however, he was responsible for the ship and its crew. So it had been his fault and he knew this, had lived with it every single day since. Which probably explained why he appreciated Cassandra’s lack of finesse, because there was honesty in it.
“It won’t go away.”
She lowered her hand, leaving his skin more sensitive to the cool night air than before. “No,” she whispered, “it won’t.”
And just like that he knew they were no longer speaking of him or of Luke, but of something else entirely.
Remaining perfectly still, so still he realized he held his breath in anticipation, he waited for her to explain. It wasn’t easy. In fact, the brief moment of silence between them felt like the longest he’d ever endured. The temptation to prod her, to shift his weight impatiently, or blurt out one of the many questions he had about her and Penelope’s father was horribly tempting. But he sensed that even the slightest sound, like clearing his throat, would cause her retreat.
So he waited. Waited until he was ready to shake her.
Until he began to worry she’d change the subject or find an excuse to go back inside.
But then, so softly he scarcely heard her at first, she said, “Timothy and I grew up together. He was my brother’s best friend and…” Her lips formed a wistful smile. “He thought me a pest when we were little and used to tease me relentlessly. I always dreaded his visits.”
“He must have liked you. Even then.”
“He put jam down the back of my dress!”
Devlin grinned. “And I would most likely have done the same, had I known you back then.” When she gaped at him he shrugged and told her plainly, “Boys don’t tease girls unless they’re interested in them.” Belatedly, he realized what he’d said and how it might sound and all things considered, the last thing he wanted right now was for her to think he’d been pining away after her for years when she’d never pined for him and…
He coughed and quickly nudged the conversation back into motion by saying, “But then you got older…”
“Yes.” She gasped the word as if startled. “There was a summer during which everything changed. We hadn’t seen each other for a couple of years because he’d gone off to travel the Continent after completing Oxford. In fact, he left the same year I had my debut, but that didn’t matter. None of the other young men made an impression. In retrospect, I suppose I was waiting for Timothy to return. We hadn’t come to an understanding at that time, and I’m not sure I even realized what I felt for him until he came back.” She smiled and Devlin’s chest tightened. “My parents were hosting a ball, and I’d just finished dancing with Mr. Vreeland when Timothy arrived, perfectly attired and looking more handsome than ever. And I knew, before he reached me and asked me to dance, I just knew he and I would marry, because of how much I loved him.”
Devlin clasped his hands tightly behind his back and fought the urge to retreat from the conversation. It would be cowardly when he himself had pressed for it and besides, he had no reason to feel jealous. Did he? It wasn’t as if he’d fallen in love with Cassandra. So why should he care if she’d given her heart to Timothy so long ago?
Perhaps because he knew he could love her if she’d let him. And possibly also because the idea of loving her if she couldn’t return the sentiment didn’t appeal. “You still love him,” he said, torturing himself with the reminder that a dead man would always have something he wouldn’t – Cassandra’s heart.
“Of course. He was my closest friend and Penelope’s father. I shall always love him, Devlin. That won’t ever change.”
Unwilling to focus on the fact that he’d likely go to hell for wanting to curse the day she and Timothy had met, Devlin clasped his hands tighter and forced himself to say what was necessary. “I’m not trying to take his place.” When she didn’t respond, he added, “When we were in Lisbon and I bought the bonnet for Penny, you reacted as if you’re afraid I’m trying to leap in and steal something from you, whether it be Penny’s affection or the memories you have of Timothy or…or something else entirely.”
“Devlin, I’m sorry. You deserve so much better than me and—”
“None of that matters when you’re the woman I want.” There. He was being as honest as he knew how, and she was now staring at him as if he’d grown horns. Well, it wasn’t as if their marriage could get much worse, so he might as well explain. “It’s always been you, Cass. Before I even realized. And then Lady DeVries gave me the perfect excuse to make you mine and I took it.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you saying you deliberately trapped me?”
Put that way, it didn’t sound very good, did it?
Devlin scratched the back of his head, aware he was stalling. “In a way. I suppose. Although I wasn’t really aware of what I was doing. It was only later, at Clearview, that it occurred to me.” He attempted a grin to lighten the mood, but it just felt flat and empty. “I knew you weren’t looking to marry, that you still mourned Penny’s father, and yet I foolishly believed in a mutual attraction between us.” Needing to touch her, he reached for her hand and slowly stroked his thumb across it. “I’m sorry. You told me not to expect a conventional marriage but I ignored you. I told myself all we needed was time, that eventually you’d let me kiss you and once you did that we would end up in bed and our marriage would be as it should be. But you clearly don’t want me with the same desperation I want you and…” Feeling like a proper idiot, he yanked his hand back and raked his fingers through his hair. “Christ, I’ve been so blind and stupid. I—”
“No.” She spoke softly but surely, wielding the word like a blade to halt his self-deprecation. A ragged series of breaths followed. Devlin’s heart began pounding with a curious awareness of impending change. “You’re neither blind nor stupid.”
“What are you saying?” He asked the words in a low gravelly voice he scarcely recognized.
Her throat worked and she glanced away. Clearly, she found their conversation difficult, the words hard to get out. But then she said, “The attraction is mutual. It always has been. And it scares me to death.”
The knot in his chest loosened, allowing him to take a deep breath. Mutual attraction. Well, there was a start. But rather than let instinct guide him and do as his body demanded – which was to pull her fiercely against him and crush her mouth with his – he chose to focus on the last part she’d said.
“Because you think acting on it would be disloyal?” When she nodded he felt his heart break for her. Was she even aware of how much she was sacrificing for a love that could no longer be? “If you’d been wid
owed at an older age, I might understand, but you weren’t even married and your courtship was brief. Cass…” She stiffened and gave him her back. “I know you loved him, how could you not when he’d been a part of your life for so long? When you chose him to be the man you’d grow old with, the man who would father your children?”
Her shoulders began to shake, alerting him to the tears she was shedding. Nothing made him feel worse, but there was more to be said, so after giving her a brief reprieve, he quietly continued.
“Are you happy living like this, without being held or cherished as you deserve?” A small shake of her head was her only response. Devlin drew a deep breath and forged straight ahead. Moving closer, he placed one hand on her shoulder and carefully said, “Let me help you, Cass. Let me care for you as I swore I would do before God. Let me be the husband I know I can be. Let me…please, Cass, please…let me kiss you.”
It was one of those moments where a simple response would determine the future. Cassandra felt this deep in her bones. She sensed that if she walked away from Devlin now – if she refused him – he’d never reach out to her again in this way, and she would most likely lose her chance to have a proper marriage forever. Because then it would be up to her to change things between them, and she knew she wouldn’t have the courage to do so.
So she turned, in spite of the tears streaming down her cheeks and the guilt ruthlessly clawing away at her heart. Because his words had struck a chord, reminding her of the loneliness she always felt even when she was in a crowded room. It followed her everywhere, even though she’d been blessed with a daughter and friends who were like sisters to her. In spite of it all, something was missing, and as she gazed up into Devlin’s expectant face, allowed her eyes to lock onto his, she knew without hesitation what that something was. It was the need to be held, touched, comforted, and adored, but also a burning desire to return the favor.
Shuddering slightly, perhaps from cold or possibly from her petrified nerves, she forced herself to reach for change by leaping off the proverbial cliff and straight into the awaiting abyss.
Of course it wasn’t quite so dramatic. All it took was one nod and she was in his arms. A tiny gasp of surprise was forced from her throat and sensation took over. There was strength in his embrace and warmth as well, and lord, it felt good to be held by a man once again. It had been so long. Too long. And it hadn’t occurred to her until right now the extent to which she’d missed it.
But it was also different, as she’d known it would be since the first time she’d watched her husband undress. He was much larger than Timothy had been, completely lacking the slimmer build of a younger man whose body had yet to mature. Instead, all she felt were the hard muscular planes and powerful limbs of a capable man. And as she pressed her cheek to his chest and felt his heart beat in response to her touch, she inhaled him, an enticing scent of sandalwood mixed with the wool of his jacket and an added hint of the wine he’d enjoyed during his meal.
She felt his hand settle carefully against the small of her back, holding her to him while the other reached under her chin, tipping it up until his face filled her vision. He stroked his thumb lightly over her temple, the callused pad adding a touch of abrasion she would have presumed uncomfortable. But it wasn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eyes locked with hers, he slowly lowered his head, allowing her the chance to retreat. The thought did cross her mind and for a split second her brain screamed for her to run, to flee this man who could give her the life she’d been meant to have with another – a man she already cared for so deeply she worried she might one day grow to love him.
And what then? Would she not be dishonoring Timothy’s memory by opening her heart to another? Would she forget how much he’d meant to her and how perfect things had been between them? Would what they’d once shared be overshadowed, buried a little bit deeper, with each new experience Devlin gave her? And if that were the case, could she live with herself, knowing she’d turned her back on the vow she’d once made?
Before she was able to answer the questions, she felt Devlin’s lips on her own—soft, but certain – just a gentle press of affection, or perhaps a test of how willing she’d be. A low whimper filled the air, and she realized she’d made the sound. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure. It could have been either from pleasure or pain, a culmination of all her desires and fears.
“Cass,” he murmured, so low his voice vibrated through her, offering life to parts of her body and soul that had been dead for so many years. Her hand caught his shoulder to steady herself as he kissed her again, this time at one corner of her mouth. And then at the other.
He placed another kiss on her lips and then drew back, just enough to gaze down into her upturned face. “I wouldn’t mind if you kissed me back.”
Confused, she blinked a couple of times. “What?” The word was scarcely a whisper.
The edge of his mouth lifted to form a wry smile. “You’re like a statue, Cass.” And then he frowned, loosened his hold, and seemed about ready to let her go. “Perhaps you’d rather we stop?”
“No. I like this, Dev. I like you and being with you in this way.” Unsure of how to explain what was happening to her, she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she was met by a desperate need for understanding. So she told him as honestly as she was able. “This isn’t easy. As much as I want to be the wife you deserve and to make you happy, I’m haunted by the past at every turn, and I just can’t seem to let it go. Not completely.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’d never do that. You loved another man with everything you were, Cass, and I accept that. But that doesn’t mean you and I can’t have something new and uniquely ours.” He cupped her cheek. “I believe a person can find love more than once in a lifetime. And one does not have to exclude the other.”
“Love?” His dark eyes gazed down at her with fierce intensity, the fire burning within almost making her lose her footing. “But you don’t, and I don’t, and—”
He kissed her again, stopping her chaotic thoughts from swirling out of control. And this time, the added possessiveness of it prompted her to respond. Driven by some primal instinct she thought she’d forgotten, she arched against him and parted her lips.
A growl, elemental and utterly thrilling, leapt from his body and straight into hers as he deepened the kiss. She swallowed it with a helpless moan and wound her arms more securely around his neck. Because, dear God, her husband had sparked a flame inside her that threatened to turn into quite the inferno. How had she survived for so long without this?
The only reasonable answer was she’d forgotten how good it could be when a man and a woman shared a mutual desire. Her grief and the responsibility she’d had to raise her daughter had made her ignore her own needs. And heaven help her she needed this – needed Devlin – more than she needed her next breath.
“Christ, you taste good,” he whispered near her ear moments later after kissing a path along her jawline. He nipped her lobe, causing a series of shivers to dart through her body. “And you feel incredible.” As if to illustrate this, he lowered his hand to her bottom and pulled her flush up against him.
“Dev!” Her tone surprised her, for it didn’t convey the outrage she knew she ought to show in response to the blatant proof of his lust. Instead, it was raspy with need and an urgent yearning for him to help her block out the past. She didn’t care how, she just had to feel, to let him take her away from the awful memories in which she’d been drowning for so very long.
“God you’re stunning.” His voice was hoarse – strained even. And then he crushed her mouth with his and kissed her hard, replacing every thought in her head with the knowledge that she was wanted.
It was impossible for her not to bask in all the glorious sensations he stirred in her body.
Shuddering with pleasure, she returned Devlin’s kiss with equal fervor, allowing him to know she was just as needy as he.
And yet, she coul
d not allow them to take this further. Already, there was no denying he’d likely be left in a state of discomfort unless they retired to their cabin and she let him claim her. Only she wasn’t quite ready for that – wasn’t sure when, or even if, she would be. And that piece of stark awareness made her feel awful. Because she’d used him for her own satisfaction, without any thought to the consequences and without considering him or his feelings.
Selfish. That was what she was. Horrible. Without a doubt the most awful person she’d ever known. And still, she continued to kiss him until he leaned back and pulled her roughly against him, holding her tight.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered against his shoulder.
“Whatever for?” A choked laugh escaped her. Was he really going to force her to explain? She tried to formulate the right words, but then, before she had a chance to answer, he said, “I’m not sorry for any of it, Cass. If anything, I’m delighted to learn how well you respond to my touch.”
“But you probably…um…I mean…er.”
The horrid man actually chortled. Chortled! “You needn’t worry. I’ll never insist you do something for which you’re not ready. And I have a feeling it may be a while before you are ready for everything I have to offer.”
He dropped his gaze for a second, then returned it to hers and raised an arrogant brow.
Cassandra pursed her lips. “You’re incorrigible. Do you know that?”
He nudged her and jutted his chin toward the other end of the ship. “You should probably go and check on Penelope.”
“But what about you? I mean, aren’t you coming with me?”
He snorted. “Not in this state.”
Cassandra considered his appearance. Apart from his hair being slightly ruffled, he looked the same as usual. “You’re sure?”
“Quite.” He winced as if in pain, then schooled his features and regarded her with the utmost seriousness. “You should go. Right now. Before I lose whatever restraint I possess and do something reckless.”
Her Seafaring Scoundrel Page 13