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TOUCH ME

Page 9

by Lucy Monroe


  He pulled her gown off and stilled. She looked up and sucked in her breath at the heat in his eyes.

  "Perhaps you should finish the task," he rasped, stepping away from the bed with the white lawn of her ripped gown foaming over his muscular forearm.

  She shrugged into the new gown and wiggled until it decently covered her and then turned her gaze back to Drake.

  He looked pained and out of sorts.

  Perhaps she hadn't pleased him as much as he had pleased her. How was a lady supposed to find such a thing out? Sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, she thought how best to phrase her inquiry. Bluntness usually worked admirably.

  "Um, Drake—"

  "Surely after the intimacy we have just shared, you could call me by my first name," he said, interrupting her.

  What difference did it make what she called him? She had more pressing things on her mind. "You may be right, but that's not important right now."

  "And what is important?" he asked, his tone sardonic.

  "Did I please you?" She bit her lower lip, waiting for this answer.

  His dark molasses eyes warmed. "Ah, Thea…" He reached out and touched her cheek. "You pleased me more than I can say, but if you are asking whether or not I found completion, the answer is no."

  "Oh." How was she supposed to interpret that response? She drew her knees up to her chest. "I'd like to complete you." She wanted him to feel the same overwhelming sense of Tightness she did at that moment.

  "I want that very much, too, but now is not the time." He leaned down and kissed her softly, first on her forehead, and then tilting her face up with his forefinger under her chin, he pressed a gentle salute to her mouth. "Good night, Thea."

  "Good night."

  She watched him walk out of the room, her body still pulsing from what he had made her feel. "You won't ignore me again, will you?"

  He spoke without turning around. "No."

  She smiled. "Good."

  He left, closing the door behind him. It wasn't until she heard the key turning in the lock that she realized he had taken it with him. She jumped up and ran to the door. She shook it.

  She put her mouth near the doorjamb. "Pierson?" she whispered. Then more loudly, "Drake, come back here." The only answer was the sound of receding footfalls. Sacre bleu. The dratted man had locked her in.

  * * *

  Chapter 7

  « ^ »

  Lady Upworth has friends traveling to the West Indies: Mr. and Mrs. Merewether. He has to leave England for his health and has decided to open a shipping office in the Islands. Lady Upworth has made arrangements for Thea and me to travel with them. Melly, that paragon among maids, has agreed to accompany us. I have put off the inevitable long enough. I tried to wait one more Season with the hope of seeing my son when Langley brought him to Town, but Lady Upworth has informed me that Jared is to be left at Langley Hall this Season. His nurse thinks it is best.

  April 3, 1799

  Journal of Anna Selwyn, Countess of Langley

  Drake smiled as he remembered the sound of Thea's furious voice calling to him through the locked door.

  He'd returned in the morning and unlocked it before her maid had woken. No one would be the wiser about their activities the night before … except him. He hadn't liked locking her in her cabin, but short of standing outside the door all night long, he hadn't known how else to ensure her safety.

  She was too reckless by half. She didn't even know enough to avoid the passion that sizzled between them whenever they touched.

  She was such an innocent—although after last night, not quite so. Memories of how she had shivered in his arms made his body grow taut and hard. They were only three days from port. He could keep a rein on his need until then. Once they were in London, he would make arrangements for a wedding by special license. He would not use her and discard her as his father had done to his mother.

  Thea would undoubtedly argue at first, but after the events of the previous evening, even she had to realize they must be married. He knew she liked her independence, but she would grow accustomed to marriage. After all, as she herself had pointed out, it did have some benefits.

  He reached Thea's door and knocked, expecting Melly to answer. Instead, Thea opened the door. She looked beautiful in a bright yellow gown. Her hair was dressed loosely and he had the impression that a few well-placed tugs and it would all come tumbling down in one silken mass.

  "Don't look at me like that," she snapped.

  "Like what?"

  "Like you want to touch me."

  "Why not?"

  "I'm angry with you. Do not tell me you did not expect such a reaction."

  He sighed. "About last night."

  "Yes."

  "I will apologize if you wish it." She had been so free the night before, but some womanly self-preservation must have finally asserted itself.

  He would prefer to have this conversation in private. He edged into the room, and surprisingly, she did not object.

  She turned to face him, shutting the door behind her. "Indeed, I do. I'll have your promise it will not happen again."

  "I cannot make that promise."

  She glared at him. "I must insist."

  His frustration finally erupted over his desire to be patient and understanding with the clearly skittish female. "Bloody hell, Thea, do you truly believe after what happened last night that I can promise not to touch you again? I'm flint to your tinder and vice versa. It would be a promise I couldn't keep and I cannot, in honor, make it."

  She stared at him as if he'd gone mad. "What are you talking about? I did not ask for your promise not to touch me again. In fact, I clearly remember you promising not to ignore me in future."

  She would drive him daft. "What the hell are you prattling about? I thought you wanted me to apologize for last night."

  "I do." She crossed her arms under her chest and shot blue fire at him from narrowed eyes. "I will not be locked in my room like a naughty child, and I do not care if you are the owner of this ship."

  He started to laugh. He couldn't help it. She never said or did what he expected.

  Her frown turned deadly. "Do not laugh at me, sir."

  He pulled her toward him and kissed her soundly on the mouth before setting her away again. "I will try not to, but Thea, you do please me. I will also strike a bargain with you. I won't lock you in if you give me your word of honor that you will not attempt to lure your attacker and will not leave your cabin unless you are escorted."

  "Are you saying that if I don't make this agreement, you will imprison me in my cabin?" She sounded outraged.

  He shrugged and let her draw her own conclusions.

  "Oh, very well." She wasn't happy about giving in. "It was a sound plan."

  "It was not. Do I have your word of honor?"

  She looked at him quizzically. "You would trust it?"

  He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

  "Then you have it. Now, regarding the other matter."

  Wariness filled him. "Yes?"

  "What did you learn from the first mate?"

  Relieved that she was discussing her misfortune and not their passionate interlude, he relaxed. "Not a bloody thing."

  "If we don't lure out the villain, we may never find him."

  "No."

  She bit her lip, her agitation palpable. "But Drake—"

  "You gave your word."

  "And I will keep it, but there must be something we can do."

  "The first mate is asking if anyone saw a seaman leave quarters last night around the time you were attacked."

  "Good, but is that enough?"

  "It will have to do for now." He would not allow her to be put at risk.

  She looked at him with those startlingly blue eyes and he wondered what she was thinking. No doubt she was frustrated he could not do more to find her attacker.

  "I should like very much to learn how to give you the wonderful feelings you evoked in me last night."

&nbs
p; The effect of her words on his body was instantaneous. He wanted to toss her on the neatly made bunk and muss both her and the covers. However, he wouldn't, couldn't do it to a woman who spoke like a mistress, but blushed like a virgin.

  He extended his arm to her. "Although I find your interest in that area most gratifying, it will have to wait, my dear. My aunt is expecting us for a game of cards."

  Her face fell. "Not whist. I'm terrible at that game. And your aunt is a shark."

  "I'm afraid so."

  "Very well, but do not think you can fob me off so easily regarding the other matter. You have given me your word, and your honor demands that you keep it." She put her hand through the crook of his arm.

  He wanted to laugh at the bossy bit of goods, demanding that he teach her more of passion. He managed to maintain a straight face, however. He had never had the urge to smile, much less laugh, so much in his entire thirty years as he did in one hour of Thea's company.

  He laid his hand over hers and squeezed. "My honor is very important to me."

  She nodded. "Just so."

  The wind whipped Thea's hair as she stood against the rail, looking out over the gray waters of the Atlantic Ocean. Shielding her eyes from the wind, she lifted her gaze to the sky and watched a lone seagull dip and soar in its flight.

  "Are we really that close to port?"

  Drake, who stood beside her at the rail, nodded. "We'll reach Liverpool two days ahead of the contract."

  She smiled at the satisfaction in his voice. She turned away from the soaring bird and focused on Drake. "Have you had any luck in identifying the blackhearted sailor who tried to toss me into the ocean?"

  The satisfaction faded from his expression.

  She shouldn't have said anything. He would have told her if he had, and now she had ruined this perfectly marvelous moment alone with him. They got precious few of them. The closer the Golden Dragon got to port, the busier he became with ship business.

  Thea could not blame him for the lack of opportunity to explore their attraction. He simply did not have the time. She sighed. It was not a comforting thought. Soon, they would go their separate ways and the likelihood of her seeing him again was very small. Drake had his business to run, and she had her thief to find.

  The thought of their imminent separation swept through her like the chilly wind until her heart was as cold as the skin of her arms had been before Drake insisted she wear his coat. She pulled the blue superfine closer about her and covertly sniffed his fragrance. She wanted a memory to take with her when she left, more than a stolen moment of passion with her maid sleeping in the next bed. Something to warm her heart in the future when loneliness and her work were all that she had to cling to.

  She had made arrangements. She just hoped he would not think her too bold.

  She realized that while she had been woolgathering, he had been speaking and she'd missed all of what he had said. "I'm sorry. My mind was elsewhere. What did you say?"

  His brows drew together in an expression of irritation that she had begun to find quite endearing. "What could be more important than finding the man who tried to harm you?"

  Plotting to be with the man whom she feared she was coming to love. Terrified at the very thought, she refused to entertain it. Love weakened women. It made them vulnerable to men who would hurt them and treat them with scorn as her father had done to her mother.

  "What is the matter? You've gone green around the gills again. Do you need some ginger tea?"

  She warmed under Drake's concern. He was a stubborn man. Perhaps more like her father than she wanted to believe, but he had a tender heart under his unbending pride and honor.

  "Nothing. Please repeat what you said."

  "I said that we haven't had one bloody lead that has gone anywhere. None of the sailors on watch or in quarters saw anything peculiar."

  "I suppose the men in quarters were sleeping rather soundly." The combination of their daily rum rations and hard labor undoubtedly provided for very sound sleep indeed.

  "Yes." His voice was clipped.

  She trailed her hand down his arm. "Don't be angry. Soon we'll be in port and the danger will be past."

  "That's not what my instincts are telling me."

  Wary, she pulled her hand away from him and turned, grasping the rail with cold fingers. "Do not let your imagination run away with you."

  "My instincts are not fantasy. What's more, you know something that you aren't telling me."

  She gripped the rail more tightly, tempted to tell him everything. He would insist on taking over the investigation, or helping her at the very least. The prospect of seeing more of him, even at the cost of some of her independence, tantalized her. But it would not be fair to Drake. She could not trade upon his chivalrous nature.

  Feigning a lightness she did not feel, she pointed to the gull, now a tiny speck in the sky. "It's amazing to me that although the ocean looks as vast as it ever did, we are close enough to land for birds to fly above us."

  Strong fingers closed over her wrist and pulled so that she found herself against his hard chest. "Tell me."

  His eyes were almost black in their intensity. She blinked, trying to regain her equilibrium.

  "You must let me go. Think of my reputation." He was usually so worried about how things looked.

  "I'll deal with your reputation. Tell me what you know."

  "I don't know who tried to push me overboard."

  "But you do know something. You must tell me. Once we reach port, the blackguard will get away."

  She didn't want to talk about her attacker. She wanted to kiss Drake. She wanted to feel the lips set in such a hard line soften and open for her exploring tongue. She tried to blink away her wanton thoughts, but they persisted. Now was not the time. She would not allow Drake to get into any more trouble with Lady Boyle. Spending time in the older lady's company had convinced Thea that although Drake seemed to care little for the opinions of outsiders, his family meant a great deal to him.

  "Drake?"

  "What?"

  "Why is it so important for you to reach port in time?"

  "I told you."

  "Yes, but I don't understand. You don't care what others think, and yet you are obsessed with not disappointing your investors." Wind blew against her, pressing the thin muslin of her gown against her legs. She shivered. "It makes no sense."

  He slid his hand around to her back and began to rub it, warming her. She ached to return the caress, and so much more. Yet she doubted he even realized he was touching her. He looked as if his mind was somewhere far off.

  "Some of the investors are my friends."

  "Yes." There was that, and he'd mentioned it before, but his insistence went deeper. "There's more to it, though. Isn't there?"

  Almost reluctantly, he nodded. "Yes."

  "Tell me." She turned his words back on him.

  "It's my father."

  She felt shocked by his answer. "I don't understand. Lady Boyle said your father has never recognized you. Are you telling me he has invested in this shipping venture?"

  His arms tightened around her. "My aunt is a gossip."

  "Yes, but that is neither here nor there." She patted his chest to soothe him. "What does your father have to do with this shipping venture?"

  "He gave my mother a substantial settlement for me when I reached my majority."

  "But wouldn't he have to acknowledge you as his son to have done that?"

  Drake's laugh was tinged with bitterness. "No. Things can be done in very civilized ways in the ton, without ever acknowledging one's mistakes."

  "I don't understand."

  "He made it an anonymous gift through a third party. I used it to buy my first ship."

  "Oh." She was still confused.

  "When I had made enough money to repay the entire amount, I did so."

  "That must have made your father angry." She still didn't understand what that had to do with the shipping venture.

 
Drake shrugged. "I have no idea. We have never spoken."

  "You have never even spoken to your father? But surely you must attend some of the same functions."

  "Yes. We even belong to the same club. My grandfather is also a member." He rested his chin on top of her head. "I want my father to see my success and regret his refusal to acknowledge my existence."

  She slipped her arms around his waist and squeezed him. She wanted to make the pain in his voice disappear. This was a side of Drake that she had never seen, a vulnerability that she had not imagined existed. It frightened her. The knowledge that his honor and pride hid this deep need for approval battered against her already shaky defenses. Each moment she spent with him enmeshed her more firmly in feelings she did not want.

  "I've never spoken to my father either." She could not believe she'd said the words.

  Her secret had been locked inside for so long that she never even spoke of her father or brother to the Merewethers. The only person who mentioned them was Lady Upworth in her letters. Even now, she wasn't prepared to tell everything, but an urge so deep she couldn't deny it prompted her to tell Drake about her father.

  He pulled back until their eyes met. "I thought your parents were dead."

  "My mother died when I was thirteen. I've never met my father."

  Drake stared at her. "You're a natural child as well?"

  She shook her head. "My parents were married, but my father behaved so despicably toward my mother that she ran away with me when I was a baby."

  "He never found her?"

  "He never looked."

  "How can you know?"

  "A mutual friend wrote often."

  Drake felt as if he had taken a blow from Gentleman Jackson himself. Thea's admission staggered him. He wanted to hear more and he wanted to be alone to do it. He pulled away, took her hand in his, and led her toward his cabin.

  "Where are we going?"

  "Someplace we can talk without the fear of interruption."

  He scanned the deck when they reached his cabin and he was relieved to see that it was empty. Taking an unattached female into his room would not go over well with his aunt, or any of the other dowagers on board.

 

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