Desire and Deception

by Nicole Jordan

  When her lips began to tremble, Jason reached up to stroke her tear-stained cheek, and his voice lowered to a pleading whisper. "Don't run from me, Lauren. I can bear anything but that."

  The welling tears threatened to spill over again. "Hold me, Jason," she begged. "Please, just hold me."

  Almost fiercely, Jason drew her into his embrace once more, but Lauren welcomed the near-pain of being crushed in his arms. She clung to him tightly, as if by doing so, she could merge into one being with him.

  It was some time before either of them relaxed their hold. But they didn't move apart, even then. Their lips met in a kiss that was at first questioning, then reassuring.

  Jason was the first to draw back. "So you don't hate me after all." His voice held a trace of amusement.

  Lauren bit her lip. "I never hated you. But the things you said to me hurt so much—"

  "I meant for them to. I was hurt and angry myself. But I trust you realize that everything I said was a pack of lies."

  "Now I do. But I believed you then."

  Jason returned her gaze steadily. "Only because I voiced the suspicions you've harbored against me at one time or another. You never have quite given up the idea that I only married you for your inheritance, have you?"

  Lauren buried her face in the curve of his shoulder, giving a slight shake of her head.

  "Sweetheart," Jason said lovingly, "if I thought it would make you trust me, I would sink every last one of those blasted ships. Since that night in London four years ago when you were running away from your guardian, you've owned my heart. And you always will."

  Her hesitant reply was muffled against his shoulder. "But. . . what of Desiree?"

  "Lauren, I've told you before, and I'll only say it once more. I've never looked at Desiree, much less touched her. How could I when I have you?"

  Lauren drew back to stare at him. "But she kissed you! I saw her."

  Jason pillowed his head on his arm as he held her gaze. "So she did. But I had just rejected her more-than-generous offer, and I could hardly insult her further by refusing her kiss. There was nothing to it on my part. Desiree knew that. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that she gave that little performance for your benefit. I had also told her I had a beautiful wife who kept me more than satisfied."

  "I suppose that's possible," Lauren conceded. "She always has been a spiteful cat. Still, that couldn't have been the first time you kissed her. Veronique told me you went upstairs with her one night and didn't come down for an hour."

  "Veronique! Sometimes I don't know whether to curse that woman or bless her. Yes, I went to Desiree's rooms. But all we did was talk."

  "Talk?" Lauren's brows lifted skeptically.

  "Yes, talk," Jason repeated firmly. "My reason for seeing her had nothing to do with lovemaking. I simply wanted to ask her some questions. At the time I didn't think you were prepared for an explanation, and I'm still not certain I should tell you."

  "Very well, then, tell me why you were bidding for Lafitte's ships."

  Jason's blue eyes sparkled. "Surely you aren't jealous of him as well."

  "Of course not. I just don't care to become a widow so soon after being wed."

  "Would you miss me?"

  Lauren shuddered. "Don't jest about such a thing, Jason. Lafitte is a dangerous man. There is already little love between you, or so Kyle says. This might make him wish you real harm."

  "I'm in no danger, sweetheart. Jean is aware that I meant to purchase his ships—in fact, he asked me to do so. I had planned to turn them over to him as soon as I had the ownership papers in hand."

  "Turn them over? But I don't understand."

  "I owed him a favor."

  Lauren's brows drew together in a frown as she recalled Jason had bought only one of the ships. "But that means . . . I must have spoiled your plans. Oh, Jason, I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

  Shifting his weight, Jason propped his head up on his elbow and grinned down at her. "I suppose I forgive you. Sauvinet was at the auction, and he took my place. I could have gotten a better price, I think, and now everyone will know what we intended, but Jean will get his ships back. What were you doing in the square, anyway? Not that you have to give me an accounting of your whereabouts, but anything could have happened to you in such a crowd."

  "May was attending me. May! Good Lord, I forgot all about her! She must be frantic."

  "She'll find her way home, I expect," Jason said soothingly. Bending his head, he pressed a light kiss on Lauren's mouth. "Perhaps that will teach you not to run off. Others do worry about you, you know, including your husband. But you changed the subject. You were going to tell me why you were there in the first place."

  Lauren's lashes lowered contritely. "I went to buy you a present. But I think I might have damaged it."

  "The package you threw at me?" At her nod, Jason laughed outright. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'm certain to appreciate any gift from you, damaged or not. Should I open it now?"

  "No," Lauren answered firmly. "You should explain to me what you were doing in Desiree's rooms, and how you came to be involved with a notorious smuggler."

  There was a long pause as Jason's smile slowly faded. His voice was quite grave when he at last said, "Lauren, have you ever heard of man who goes by the name of Rafael?"

  Though she tried to prevent it, Lauren stiffened at his introduction of the past. "Why? Should I know him?" she asked warily.

  "Rafael was . . . is a pirate. He killed your father."

  "My father was killed by smugglers," she said in a low voice, trying to give herself time to think.

  "So the world believes. But George Burroughs told me a different story—of how Jonathan Carlin, along with his wife Mary and daughter Andrea, was held captive by Rafael and his fellow buccaneers. The elder Carlins were brutally tortured and died from their wounds, but the daughter managed to escape. Afterward, she didn't remember anything of what had happened. The horror of what she had seen had been stricken from her memory."

  Lauren's eyes widened. "And you think that I . . . that I could have forgotten something like that?"

  "Such an experience might explain your nightmares."

  It would if I were Andrea Carlin, Lauren reflected. But Andrea had been the one to witness Jonathan and Mary's death, not herself. There had to be some other reason for her own nightmares.

  Lauren's lips parted in denial, before she realized that if she protested too loudly, Jason would demand to know why she was so certain. Then she would be forced to confess the entire impersonation.

  God, she was trapped in an endless circle of lies.

  "I suppose it is possible," Lauren said at last. "I don't remember anything like that." She was unable to meet Jason's gaze, but she heard his sigh.

  "Well, to answer your question," he said finally, "I promised your guardian I would find Rafael and see that he was punished. I doubt that Burroughs cared much about what happened to your father, but Mary was his only sister, and he wanted her death avenged."

  Sitting up, Jason swung his legs over the side of the bed and ran a hand through his tawny hair. "Actually Rafael is the main reason I came to New Orleans—I had heard he was hiding in this part of the world. When I went to see Lafitte a few months ago, I discovered that Rafael had been one of his buccaneer captains but that they had parted ways because Jean hadn't like his methods. Jean suggested Rafael might be somewhere in the Caribbean. I also learned that Desiree's brother Claude had sailed with Rafael. That's why I went to question her. She agreed to put me in touch with her brother when she next heard from him. Yesterday she received a message from Claude saying that he had returned and is willing to see me."

  Lauren felt her heart sink. "You are leaving?" she murmured.

  Jason turned to gaze down at her lovely face. "For a few days at least. I must talk to Claude and find out what he knows."

  A sudden chill made Lauren shiver. Though not knowing the cause, she was quite sure she didn't want Jason to go. She
clutched at his hand and held it to her cheek. "Jason, please, don't go down there again," she implored. "I'm afraid for you."

  "Sweetheart, I won't be in any danger. Jean has offered me his hospitality again, as well as sending a man to guide me through the swamps."

  "Then take me with you!"

  Jason's brows lifted half an inch. "Into a den of notorious cutthroats? Not on your life, Cat-eyes. I'd spend the entire time worrying about you, even if I weren't already occupied in challenging all the men who coveted you for themselves. Besides, Lafitte is a handsome man, and he's said to have quite a way with the ladies. I won't risk having him turn your head as well."

  "He couldn't! Jason, please, let me come—"

  "No, Lauren," he replied gently.

  The underlying steel in his voice, however, convinced Lauren that he wouldn't be swayed. Stiffening, she raised her chin mutinously. "Then don't expect me to be here when you return."

  Jason's mouth tightened, although he replied patiently. "I made an oath to a dying man, Lauren. I must see it out. Can you not understand that?"

  "Yes, I understand! I understand that George Burroughs has once again managed to destroy any happiness in my life, even now that he's dead. Well, so be it! Leave me, but just don't come back!" She sounded adamant, but fresh tears shimmered in her eyes, making them glitter like jewels. Jason stared sorrowfully into the golden-green depths, not replying.

  As the silence lengthened and Jason still made no response, Lauren's tears spilled over. Flinging herself into his arms, she retracted her threat between sobs of remorse. She hadn't meant it! She deserved to be flogged for saying that she didn't want him back! She couldn't bear it if anything happened to him.

  Again Jason held her and soothed her and comforted her. And when she was calm again, he took the crumpled handkerchief from her and dried her eyes, then kissed her quivering mouth.

  Contritely, Lauren rested her head on his shoulder and gave a shaky sigh. "Jason . . . I love you."

  "I know, sweetheart."

  "Sometimes I say things I don't mean at all."

  "I know that, too."

  There was a definite smile in his voice, and Lauren lifted her head from its comfortable resting place to glance up at him. "Must you be so disgustingly understanding?"

  Jason's blue eyes danced with amusement. "Well, what would you have me say? That I mind terribly that you have ruined my favorite coat?"

  She drew back to view the now wet garment. "Perhaps the damage isn't irreparable," she said ruefully, wondering how she could feel like laughing when a moment before her heart had been breaking.

  Jason chuckled and wrapped his arms about her once more, pulling Lauren tightly against him. "Now we're even, Cat-eyes—you'll have to forgive me now for saying what I did earlier. Though I can't understand how you could have believed that nonsense. How could you have thought that I wanted your money more than your body?"

  When he bent to nuzzle the soft skin at her neck, Lauren felt a familiar desire stir within her. She let her head fall back, giving Jason's lips better access to her throat. "Well," she murmured, "you were telling the truth about one thing. I am a good pupil."

  "Is that so, madame wife?"

  "Yes. And if you hadn't broken down the door, I would prove it to you."

  Jason laughed huskily. "I'll repair it at once, by God! See if I don't."

  Chapter Twenty

  "Of course it is foolish of me, but I shall miss him," Veronique sighed as she languidly waved her fan. "Lauren, you will not allow Kyle to forget me, will you, chérie?"

  Lauren looked up with a start, then flushed when she realized what the question implied. Both Veronique and Lila assumed she would be going to England with Jason.

  She hadn't told them differently, and now as she sat with the two women in the Beauvais garden, sipping cool lemonade in the shade of a giant magnolia, Lauren couldn't bring herself to speak of it. Nor could she control the sudden tears that stung her eyes at the thought of Jason's leaving. Not wanting her friends to see her cry, she rose abruptly. "It's so hot," Lauren murmured. "I must have some air. I beg you to excuse me."

  The warm afternoon seemed to close in on her as she sped down the path toward the rear of the garden where spike-leaved oleanders and lemon-scented verbena were in full bloom. She sank to her knees in the soft grass, sobbing.

  Sometime later she was startled by Lila's light touch on her shoulder. "Lauren, is something troubling you?" Lila asked in a concerned voice.

  Lauren hastily wiped her eyes. "It is nothing. Just a speck of dust in my eye. Truly, Lila, I'm fine. I needed some fresh air. I will just be a moment longer, I promise."

  Lila's smile was a trifle forced, although she nodded and left Lauren alone with her troubled thoughts. Dejectedly, Lauren moved to sit on a wooden bench. She made an effort to regain her composure, but she was soon crying again. Half turning to face the back of the seat, she buried her face in her arms.

  A few moments later Veronique joined her. "What is it, mon chou?" Veronique crooned, wrapping Lauren in a gentle embrace. "I have never seen you cry. Now you have tears enough to water the entire garden."

  "I know," Lauren sobbed. "I can't seem to stop. I don't know what is wrong with me. Oh, Veronique, I am so miserable."

  "What has happened? Have you lost a fight with M'sieur?"

  "I . . . I don't think so. We did have an argument, but we made up before he left for Barataria. I miss him so much that it aches. This is how it will be when—" Lauren broke off, not wanting to open the subject that would lead to lengthy explanations.

  "Ah, you are very much in love, ma pauvre miette. Your handsome Jason has been gone only three days. But he will return, and then all will be well again."

  "You don't understand!" Pulling away, Lauren buried her face in her hands and wailed. Veronique could only pat her shoulder consolingly.

  When the storm at last subsided, Veronique drew a handkerchief from up her sleeve and offered it to Lauren. "Perhaps Lila was right. There is a little one on the way, non?"

  Lauren sniffed as she dried her eyes. "A little one?"

  "Un bébé, le petit enfant. Lila says that when she was enceinte, she cried all the time. She thinks you mean to keep it a secret. I fear she is a little hurt."

  The hand holding the handkerchief suddenly stilled. "A baby," Lauren breathed. Then she shook her head. "No, it couldn't be. I've only been married a little more than a month."

  Veronique gave a tinkling laugh. "Since when does that make a difference with babies? Perhaps you were not careful enough before the wedding."

  "But I was only with Jason once," Lauren protested, feeling color rise to her cheeks. "And that was . . . at the beginning of March. I would know by now if it had happened then."

  "But your monthly courses? Are they on time?"

  Frowning, Lauren tried to recall. "Not my last. Oh, Veronique, do you suppose it's true? I am going to have Jason's child?" There was excitement in her voice, and as she searched her friend's face, a soft light began to glow in her eyes. "Yes, of course it is!" she exclaimed before hugging Veronique joyfully. "I just didn't think it would happen so soon. Goodness, Jason was right. What if he hadn't married me? But it wouldn't have made any difference. I would still have loved his child. Oh, God, what if it isn't a boy? He needs a son, Veronique, Kyle told me. Will Jason be angry, do you think, if it's a girl?"

  Laughing again, Veronique shook her head. "I am sure he will be delighted either way. Will you tell him now? Or will you wait till you are certain? You know, I am not the one to give you advice. You should speak to Lila about these things since she has— Lauren, what is the matter?"

  The color had drained from Lauren's complexion, turning her face pale. "I can't tell him," she whispered, bowing her head as fresh tears scalded her cheeks.

  Veronique's brows drew together. "Would you like me to tell M'sieur for you?"

  "No, please!" Lauren cried. Then realizing how hysterical she must sound, she took a steadying
breath before turning to Veronique. "I don't intend to tell Jason."

  Veronique frowned in puzzlement. "You do not want the baby?"

  "Of course I do!"

  "But then, what is the problem? You are worried that M'sieur Jason will refuse to claim the child as his?"

  Lauren smiled bitterly. "No. I'm afraid he will refuse not to claim it. You see, I'm not going to England with Jason when he leaves. If he thought I was with child, he . . . I'm not sure what he would do. But he might demand that I go with him."

  Veronique shook her head. "I am sorry, m'amie, but I do not understand in the least. Now, explain it to me, and slowly, if you please, so my foolish brain can comprehend."

  Haltingly Lauren explained about the agreement she had with Jason. When she was done, Veronique still looked perplexed. "But why do you not wish to go with him? There is nothing here for you in New Orleans. And you have been so happy with M'sieur."

  "Veronique, it's not that I don't wish to go to England with Jason. It's that I can't. The thought of returning there makes my blood run cold. My . . . my aunt still lives there."

  "The one who says you are un'aliene, a lunatic? The one who would have locked you away?"

  Lauren nodded. "Regina Carlin, my father's sister. I am afraid of what she will do."

  "But your husband will protect you from such a one as that."

  "He might try. But sooner or later . . . Oh, Veronique, you don't know how often I've tried to tell myself that it is safe for me to go back. But I can't make myself believe it."

  "And have you told M'sieur this? What does he say?"

  "He has agreed, as long as we make the most of the time we have left. And so we did." Lauren's mouth twisted ironically as she thought of the life growing inside her. And then she thought of Jason's love of children and abruptly started to cry again. Did she have the right to deny him knowledge of his own child? She buried her face in her hands. "This child means so much to me," she declared with a choked sob. "If I must lose Jason, at least I will have something of his."