Desire and Deception
Page 29
He seemed lost in thought, for he lay on his back, one arm supporting his head, his free hand absently stroking the cat's orange fur as Ulysses rubbed against his thigh.
Lauren decided not to disturb him, but before she could turn to go, Jason sensed her presence. Raising his head from the pillow, he regarded her with a frown.
When she felt Jason's gaze rake her scantily clad body, Lauren suddenly became quite conscious of her state of undress. Her nightgown, little more than a thin cotton shift, left her arms and throat bare, while her golden hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders. Yet she knew Jason wouldn't approve of her presence there if she were fully clothed with her hair bound in a tight chignon. "I came for Ulysses," she explained hastily before he could order her out.
He didn't reply. He made no move at all. Lauren's trepidation increased as she stepped into the room. "May I have my cat?" she repeated. "He usually sleeps with me."
Jason exhaled slowly, as if he had been holding his breath. "Lucky cat," he said in a strained voice.
"I offered once," Lauren reminded him. "I seem to recall you were the one to refuse."
Jason sat up then and arranged the pillows behind his back. "Lauren, come here."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Really, Jason, you surprise me. I expected you to remind me that it is highly improper for me to be here in your bedroom."
"It is improper. Particularly when both of us have so few clothes on. But I'll try to restrain myself." He held out an inviting hand, his gaze compelling her to obey.
Lauren found it impossible to resist the arresting power of those blue eyes. She moved closer, yet halted at the foot of the bed, clutching at the poster as if at any moment she would be pulled into the vortex of a storm. "I suppose," she replied, her tone defensively mocking, "that I should be flattered you deigned to notice. You've been so occupied with Desiree lately, I thought you had forgotten me. Indeed, I expected you to return to the casino. What could you be thinking of, to disappoint Madame Gescard's girls so? Desiree must be heartbroken."
Jason's mouth twitched as if he were repressing a smile. "I do wish you would give me a chance to defend myself against your broadsides, Lauren. Come here," he repeated, indicating for her to sit beside him.
"Why?" she countered warily.
"Because, my sweet, the candlelight behind you makes your nightdress nearly transparent. It gives you a decided advantage."
"Oh!" Lauren flushed. Reluctantly she obeyed Jason's command, gingerly sitting beside him on the edge of the bed.
Jason took her hand and held it loosely between his. "Furthermore," he added, "I'm quite receptive to a midnight tête-à-tête, but only if I have some assurance that you will stay to finish the conversation."
When Lauren nervously attempted to extricate her hand, she discovered it to be imprisoned in a painless but immutable grip. "I suppose," she said stiffly, "that now you mean to use brute force?"
Jason met her gaze steadily. "Your accusations are beginning to bore me, Lauren. You don't really think that, any more than you believe I would force you into marriage. Or for that matter, that I only want to marry you for the Carlin ships."
Ulysses jumped off the bed and disappeared into the night shadows, but Lauren never even noticed. "Then why do you want to marry me?" she asked in a breathless voice.
"Probably because I love you." When Lauren gave a start, a slight smile played at the corners of Jason's mouth. "I've loved you ever since I first saw you," he said softly. "Why else do you suppose I proposed to you then?" Lauren remained staring at him speechlessly. "What?" he teased. "Are you still here? I had assumed that confession would send you scrambling for cover."
Lauren heartily wished she hadn't allowed him to open the subject again. "You won't release my hand," she said rather lamely.
"Answer my question first." Bringing her fingers to his lips, he kissed the tip of each one, sending warm sparks shooting up Lauren's arm.
"What question?" she murmured vaguely.
"Tell me what you're afraid of." He noted the haunted look in her amber-flecked eyes, but he held her gaze as he continued to press. "You don't fear me," Jason said gently. "You never have. So why do you panic every time I suggest marriage?"
Lauren knew she had to give him some kind of answer. "I . . . I don't want to give any man that kind of control over me.
Jason shook his head. "That isn't your reason. You don't truly believe I would abuse the privilege of caring for you."
"No, but . . . but you want to live in England and I don't. My life is here."
"I can't accept that, either, Lauren." Slowly he reached up to touch her lips, gently tracing them with a lean forefinger. His eyes searched her face as his voice dropped to a mere whisper. "What I would give to penetrate those defenses you show the world. . . ."
Lauren hesitated, her mouth working silently as Jason's long fingers stroked her cheek. She didn't want him to love her. Nothing could come of it. Her origins, if nothing else, prevented her from marrying him.
When she didn't speak, Jason gave a sigh. "Well, I've waited nearly four years for you. I suppose I can wait a while longer."
"No, you mustn't!"
She tried to pull away, but her protest was cut off as Jason drew her into his arms. "Hush, my love," he murmured, stroking her hair. "I didn't mean to distress you."
Resting her cheek on Jason's bare chest, Lauren closed her eyes. She felt a painful tightness in her throat, a throbbing ache deep in her chest, as she regretted more than ever the past which hung like a millstone around her neck. But though she very much felt like crying, her eyes were dry.
She couldn't have said how much time passed before the candle flame sputtered out, leaving the room in semidarkness, but that was when she first realized that Jason's arms were no longer a place of solace. He remained quite still, yet she suddenly became conscious of the musky-clean scent of his skin and the intimate way her breasts were pressed against his sinewy chest. Something strong and vital was flowing between them, something almost tangible. She could actually feel her senses coming alive as longing stirred within her.
She wanted Jason to hold her more tightly, but she was afraid to move. She was well aware that he would send her away if he knew what she was thinking.
But he knew, she realized a moment later. His hand swept slowly down her back, moving possessively over her hip and thigh, then up again. All her nerve endings started to flicker.
After a moment, she felt Jason grasp her shoulders. When he held her away from him, Lauren looked down into azure eyes that glittered with molten desire. "Lauren," he murmured hoarsely. One of his hands twisted in the silken curtain of her hair while the other reached for the buttons of her nightdress.
"Jason . . . please," Lauren whispered, not knowing herself whether she was pleading for him to stop or continue. She was afraid, either way. Afraid that he might again seek relief with another woman if she refused him. Afraid she would surrender totally to him if she consented.
And so she did nothing—neither encouraged nor denied. She only held her breath while her heart hammered against her rib cage.
Slowly, as if he couldn't help himself, Jason released the buttons and inched her nightdress down over her shoulders, baring her breasts to his gaze. Drawing her closer then, he let his mouth close hotly over a taut nipple. Lauren nearly jumped as a shock wave of pure pleasure jolted through her. She let her head fall back, feeling desire curl and twist in her loins.
Jason's tongue swirled over the sensitive peak till it was rigid and aching from his attentions, then moved to the other ample mound of sweet flesh, sucking and licking and nipping gently, grazing softly with his teeth. Lauren's breath came in muted gasps.
In the end, though, it was Jason himself who banked the fires he had started. He pulled away, his rasping breath loud in the dark. "Not like this, Lauren," he said hoarsely. "Not like this. When I make love to you, I want your total commitment."
She was relieved, and yet . . .
Lauren honestly tried to obey, but Jason's caresses had left her dizzy and weak. Her knees felt like warm honey. When she tried to rise, they wouldn't support her. She sank back down, unintentionally swaying toward him.
Jason was hardly in a mood to be patient. Aching with unfulfilled need, he had nearly reached the limits of his fortitude. "Lauren!" he growled. Gripping her shoulders, he almost shook her. "Lauren, get the hell out of here before I turn you over my knee!" Whipping his head around, he searched the shadows of the room. "Christ, where is that damned cat!"
His eruption, as sudden as a Louisiana tempest, startled Lauren. She stared at him with apprehension, before realizing the cause of his anger.
She did something totally out of character then; she giggled. Actually it came out more as a husky chortle, and she immediately clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle the sound. But it was laughter, all the same. She couldn't help it. Jason's fury, following so closely on the heels of passion, struck her as being ludicrously funny.
At the soft sound of her choked laughter, Jason turned the full force of his glare on her. "What the blazes has gotten you in such high spirits?" he snapped.
Giving her laughter free rein, Lauren wagged a finger under his nose. "Those are hardly the words of an ardent lover," she admonished, heady with the knowledge that she had finally shaken his iron composure. "If you want me to become enamored of you, you should be plying me with flattery and kisses. You should be trying to sweep me off my feet, rather than ignoring me and insulting me and threatening me. You're hardly likely to win your suit by such methods."
He drew a long, determined breath. When his temper was once more in check, Jason eyed her suspiciously. Then after a moment, he relaxed against the pillows. "It seems that I'm unlikely to win my suit by any method," he said dryly. "But I think I'll stick to the current battle plan, thank you. It hasn't yet proven a total failure. Do you mean to walk or must I carry you?"
Lauren ignored his question. "So you admit it! You do have a plan. Is Desiree a particular stratagem then?" she asked in a deceptively silken tone.
It was Jason's turn to smile. He flashed her a grin that dazzled, even in the semidarkness. "What's this? Jealousy, my sweet Lauren?"
Lauren pressed her lips together. "I am merely curious to know what you find so interesting in that . . . that she-cat."
"Isn't it obvious?"
"Of course it's obvious! I just wondered, why her?"
Jason's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Desiree's charms are nothing compared to yours, if that's what you're asking. Of course, she generally treats a man with more warmth than you do. . . ."
His baiting words struck a highly sensitive nerve. Lauren leapt to her feet and stood over him, clenching her fists. "You . . . you . . . cad," she sputtered. "Let me tell you something, Jason Stuart. If you ever dare compare me to her again, I'll . . . I'll . . ."
"Yes?" Jason drawled provokingly. He rose, also, but in a more leisurely fashion. Slowly, like a giant cat, he began to stalk her.
Lauren took an automatic step backward. "I'll kick you, that's what. Where it hurts!" Obviously Jason wasn't worried by her threat, for he kept coming. Nervous, she retreated. "And what's more," Lauren added defiantly, "if you don't stay away from Desiree, I'll go back to the casino again. Every night!"
Jason appeared unconcerned as he followed her all the way across the room and onto the gallery. When the small of her back hit the railing, Lauren held up her hands defensively. "And I won't just play the piano," she warned. "I'll dance on it!"
Jason laughed as he reached down and swung her into his arms. "And you accused me of extortion! Very well, I agree."
Lauren started to struggle, but when she realized what he had said, she ceased fighting and peered up into his laughing blue eyes. "You do?" she asked skeptically.
Carrying her easily, Jason strode along the gallery toward her room. "I do. I'll never go near Desiree again if you promise not to dance on the piano. You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart."
Lauren cleared her throat, wondering if she had somehow trapped herself with her own words. "It's for your own sake. Desiree isn't good enough for you. Even Veronique says so."
Jason made a wry face. "And I was hoping you were jealous."
"Well . . ." She dropped her eyes. "Perhaps I was . . . a bit."
His voice softened. "You shouldn't be, Lauren. I never touched Desiree." When Lauren's gaze lifted, holding disbelief, Jason smiled down at her. "Besides," he pointed out, "it's you I want to marry."
Lauren pursed her lips thoughtfully, knowing Jason wouldn't be so anxious to marry her if he knew about her birth. "Kyle says now that you are Lord Effing, you have to find a wife."
"Umm hmm," Jason agreed. "The responsibility that comes with the title. Do you have any suggestions? That wasn't a proposal, by the way. I'm sticking to our bargain."
She tilted her head to one side, considering him. "If I refused to provide you with heirs, would you change your mind about wanting to marry me?"
"No, Cat-eyes. I won't ever change my mind."
Entering her room, Jason gently deposited Lauren on her own bed. As he bent over her to tuck a light quilt under her chin, his gaze searched her face. "Don't you want children?" he asked seriously.
"I . . . I don't know. I hadn't thought much about it."
Jason planted a light kiss on her lips. "Let me know if you do. I'll be happy to oblige. Would you like me to stay till you fall asleep?" When she shook her head, Jason gave her a tender smile and then melded into the night shadows.
His loving look kept Lauren warm long after he had gone. And as she lay there in the dim light, staring at the canopy above her bed, Lauren found herself wondering what it would be like to have a child to hold in her arms. Not just any child, but a little boy with laughing blue eyes. One she could hold and cherish and love. . . .
It was quite some time before she drifted to sleep.
Chapter Sixteen
Jason acted quite as if the incident at the casino had never occurred. As agreed, he arranged to buy the Kite and hired a captain for the ship's first voyage, and two nights later he escorted Lauren to the theater.
She did enjoy the play. The Orleans Theater on Orleans Street had been destroyed by fire in 1813, but had been rebuilt to house traveling troupes who made their way to the city. The new building was impressive—boasting Doric colonnades, a spacious parquet, multiple galleries, and two tiers of private boxes.
Since their box was fairly close to the stage, Lauren had no trouble hearing, but she sometimes had to ask Jason to translate. The entire play was delivered in French, for even though New Orleans had been under American rule for a dozen years, French was still considered by many of its citizens to be the only civilized language.
Jason derived less pleasure from the entertainment than she did, for he was far too aware of Lauren sitting beside him. She looked stunning in one of the gowns he had selected for her—a high-waisted creation of ivory sarcenette. The décolletage was modest by current standards, but the bodice still left a great expanse of creamy flesh bare to his gaze. The distraction of those lush breasts kept Jason from concentrating, while the fragrant scent of her skin filled his senses and aroused an acute ache in him. He found himself extremely grateful for the semidarkness of the theater, since it hid the embarrassing swell in the front of his breeches.
By the end of the play, however, Jason had once again gained control of himself. When Lauren laughed again over the last lines of the comedy, he decided that the enchantment of her expression was worth any discomfort he might have felt. Smiling down into her shining eyes, he placed her wrap about her shoulders, then ushered her from the box, holding his arm protectively about her waist to prevent her from being jostled by the crowds filling the mezzanine.
They dr
ew the attention of nearly everyone they passed. Lauren's haunting loveliness and Jason's commanding presence made them a striking couple, and more than a few heads turned to watch their progress as he escorted her down the sweeping staircase.
They had reached the first landing when Lauren suddenly stiffened. Jason followed her gaze to see Felix Duval at the foot of the stairs, staring up at Lauren with unconcealed desire. As Lauren's look of rapt joy swiftly faded, to be replaced by her habitual air of remoteness, Jason involuntarily tightened his arm around her, feeling an overwhelming urge to use his fists on Duval's leering face. "No doubt Duval recognized you," Jason murmured tersely as he steered her away.
Peering up at Jason, Lauren bit her lip. "I suppose you will now say it's my fault he looked at me like that."
The corner of Jason's mouth quirked in a smile. "I don't think you can help being desirable, but I would prefer that you didn't tempt him again by appearing at the casino. Even though rescuing you is becoming a habit with me, I shouldn't care to spend a lifetime at it."
Lauren relaxed with Jason's familiar teasing. "I didn't ask you to," she rejoined.
"No," Jason laughed, "but I keep hoping you will."
After that, however, Lauren had little opportunity to visit the casino. Jason kept her evenings full, taking her to dine at a New Orleans restaurant, or escorting her to various social functions hosted by his growing circle of acquaintance, including a ball at a neighboring plantation.
As construction of the warehouses progressed, Lauren also saw more of Jason during the day. He took her shopping again, and to visit Running Deer at the cabin, but more often, he arranged long drives in the country.
Lauren's favorites of these impromptu outings of Jason's were the ones with no particular destination in mind: long, lazy spring days when they would explore some new spot of beauty and then hungrily attack the picnic lunch they had brought.
She was never alone with Jason on these outings. Kyle was often present, having returned from visiting his family in Natchez, and Running Deer frequently served as a guide, particularly when they explored the bayous by pirogue. When they picnicked on a section of the creek that ran through Beauvais property, Lila was on hand to act as chaperone. So was two-year old Charles, since Jason always insisted on bringing the boy along. Even when their chosen site was the Bellefleur gardens, there was always at least one other addition to the party.