by Bobbi Smith
Tears glistened in her eyes. "Because I don't want a future based on lies and half-truths. I don't want to continue our marriage if you feel you've been entrapped, and without the baby to hold us together . . . Well, I just needed to know how you really felt."
"Espri, I haven't been lying to you for these last weeks. I want our marriage—very much. I just regret that it took the accident to make me acknowledge how I really feel about you." He slowly drew her closer. "I love you, Espri. I think I have from the very first time we were together."
"Oh, Mitch!" She went to him then and they embraced as lovers long parted do. "I love you too, and I was so afraid you didn't care about me."
"I know . . . I know . . . and I'm sorry I've hurt you." He held her near, but didn't kiss her. He was savoring the joy of their reconciliation. "I'll never hurt you again," he vowed fiercely. As she nestled against him, he groaned. "I have waited so long for this."
"So have I," she admitted. She lifted her head then, her lips parted in soft invitation, and he bent to her, his mouth claiming hers, gently.
"Shall we go below?" Mitch asked huskily as he broke off the kiss, and she nodded in silent response. Keeping an arm about her slim waist, he led her across the deck and down the companionway to their stateroom.
Though the cabin was dark when they entered, they didn't bother to light a lamp, treasuring instead the quiet seclusion that the darkness offered. It was a time of sensual reawakening, of intimate renewal. Theirs would be a joining, not only of bodies but of hearts and minds as well.
Their clothes were shed with calm precision—Espri's first, with his assistance. Then Mitch disrobed while she stretched out on the bed to await him.
"I've fantasized about this often," he confided as he moved to join her on the wide softness of the bed.
"You have?"
"Um . . ." he murmured as he slid down beside her and kissed her tenderly. "Every night for the past six weeks."
She laughed softly. "I've been wanting you too." She reached up and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him down to her. "Let's never let anything come between us again," she urged.
"Madam," Mitch replied dryly, moving suggestively against her. "There's nothing between us now."
"I know," she purred.
The time for talk was over, for their mutual desires swept them away. As their mouths met time and again in wonder and passion, their hands explored and teased, tracing arousing patterns over bare, sensitive flesh. Limbs intertwined, feminine softness against masculine hardness, silken flesh against muscularity, they made love. Mitch could feel the taut crests of her breasts boring into his chest, and he moved lower to taste their succulent buds, in turn drawing each into his mouth and suckling gently.
Espri arched in heated abandon at the touch of his lips, and she held him tightly, experiencing rapturous feelings. "I love you," she breathed, caressing the width of his shoulders and moving her hips erotically beneath his welcome weight.
Mitch had wanted to cherish each second of their lovemaking, but his long-denied need for Espri was so strong that when she started to buck wildly beneath him, he lost all control. Grasping her hips firmly, he pinned her to the mattress and, spreading her thighs, he slid smoothly into the heart of her womanhood. He lay quietly atop her for an instant, relishing the hot tightness surrounding him and holding him a willing captive.
Before he began to move, Espri wriggled her hips in encouragement, wanting to know once again the joy of his driving possession. She was afire with desire for him, and her movements grew frenzied as she tried to entice him to take her.
"Please, Mitch . . . love me now," she begged, linking her legs over his lean hips and pressing eagerly against him.
He began to move then, thrusting powerfully into her and, groaning ecstatically, Espri held him tightly and met his every thrust. They mated feverishly, trying to wipe away in that one joining all the long months of distrust and loneliness. The end came explosively, rocking them with sensations so perfect and so breathtakingly beautiful that they clung together, fearful it had all been a dream.
Their hearts pounding, their breathing raspy, they lay clasped in each other's arms, enraptured with what had just passed between them. Mitch, well-versed in the art of love, knew that nothing he'd known before had surpassed this moment, and Espri, untutored though she was, knew that what they'd shared had been magnificent.
Shifting slightly to relieve Espri of his weight, Mitch kissed her devotedly. "My love, if we weren't already married, I would propose to you right now."
She smiled in the darkness. "And I would accept."
Totally fulfilled, they slept, rousing occasionally to reassure themselves that they were indeed together. Soft kisses were exchanged, along with whispered pledges, and as night passed into day, they both knew they'd forged a love that would withstand any strain. A love for all ages . . .
Dawn . . . that unwelcome light that puts an end to the night's intimate embrace. Stirred to wakefulness by its unwanted presence, Mitch lay quietly lest he disturb Espri, who was curled up at his side, sleeping soundly. He smiled in memory of the hours that had just passed. How wonderful it felt to hold her close, and how beautiful it was to have her love and her trust. He would do his best to see to it that nothing hurt her, ever again.
Mitch frowned as he thought of their future. It would not be easy for her to adapt to life in San Francisco, but he hoped to make it as easy as possible for her. He suspected that there might be some initial prejudice against her because of her Polynesian blood; however, he would make it known from the moment they set foot on California soil that any slight against his wife was a slight against him. Few were brave—or stupid—enough to cross Mitchell Williams.
He smiled again, but it was a smile of grim determination. With his social standing and his money, he would see to it that Espri was accepted.
"Mitch?" Her soft inquiry startled him back to the reality of the moment. "You look angry. Is something wrong?"
"No, love. Absolutely nothing is wrong. In fact, as far as I can tell, everything is perfect." He drew her near and kissed her. "Good morning."
Espri surrendered to his embrace more than willingly, but when their kiss ended, she was still curious about his mood. She had seen him frown. "If everything is as perfect as you say," she continued, slightly breathless from his ardent good-morning kiss, "why were you frowning?"
Knowing that she wouldn't be deterred, he decided to answer her truthfully. "I was thinking about home."
"San Francisco?"
He nodded. "I was wondering how you're going to enjoy living there. It's not like anything you've ever known."
"I know, but I'll be all right. I'll have you." She rested her head on his shoulder and ran a bold hand over the firm muscles of his chest.
"I'll do all I can to help you adjust."
"I know that, and with what Mildred's been teaching me, I don't think it will be all that hard. Now that I've learned all the intricacies of dress"—she gave him an impish smile—"I think the rest will just come naturally."
"I'm sure of it." He drew her near, caressing the velvet swell of her breast.
"Have you missed your home greatly?" She sighed, loving the way he was touching her.
"I've missed some aspects of the life I was leading," he confessed. "The shipping company I own was very successful, and I enjoyed the challenge of business dealings. And, I've missed Jon."
"Your brother?"
Mitch nodded thoughtfully. "We weren't on the best of terms before I was shanghaied, and I'm looking forward to making amends."
"You fought?"
"I wouldn't exactly call what happened a fight, but I do know he was furious with me."
"Why?"
"He wanted to get married, but I refused to give him my permission."
"Why did he need your permission?" Espri found the news perplexing.
"Jon's much younger than I am, and until he turned twenty-one I had complete control of his money."
"So you threatened not to give him any money if he married?" she deduced astutely.
"Something like that." Mitch grinned.
"Did it work?"
"I don't know. The last time I saw him he stalked out of my office in a fury."
"Why didn't you want him to marry? Did you think he was too young?"
"No, not really. I just didn't approve of his choice."
"Who was she?"
"Her name was Catherine Chamberlain, and I know for a fact that she was out to hook the richest man she could, as quickly as possible. She didn't love Jon."
"How can you be sure? If he's anything like you, I'm sure many women wanted him."
"Thank you for the compliment, but that's exactly my point." Mitch glanced down at her, his expression bemused. "Two months before she got involved with my brother, Catherine was after me."
"Oh." Espri was surprised. "I guess that's what Mildred meant when she told me that in your society things are not always as they seem."
"You're right." He sighed. "Catherine was in dire straits financially, and I guess her only way out was to marry money. I don't like gold diggers." He sounded unusually vicious.
"Gold diggers?"
Mitch explained. "Women who marry only for gain. I had a friend once named Andrew. He fell madly in love and had the misfortune to marry the woman who was the object of his affection. She played him false and, in the process, she destroyed him."
"How?"
"After she'd taken him for every penny she could get, she told him she was leaving him for another, richer man. Andrew killed himself, because he didn't want to face life without her."
"How terrible."
"It was," Mitch said soberly. "It was then that I vowed never to fall in love. I refused to give a woman that kind of power over me, and I made a special effort to avoid all females who were eyeing my bank account. That's why I never allowed myself to get too involved." He kissed her quickly. "You are the only woman I've ever felt I could trust completely."
"Thank you, darling. It means a lot to me that you chose to tell me these things." Espri's lips brushed his in a delicate caress. "I understand now why you fought so hard against what was between us."
He smiled in self-derision. "It was all a matter of self-defense, but I lost anyway."
"Lost?" she asked in mock outrage.
"Lost my heart," he declared.
"That's better," she purred as he pulled her near and began to kiss her passionately. "Much better . . ."
Chapter 24
San Francisco—Two months later
Jon descended from the carriage, and after ordering the driver to wait, he entered the main warehouse of Williams Shipping. Alan Harris, whose office was situated near the main entrance, saw Jon at once and hastened forward to greet him.
"Good morning, Jon."
"Alan," he replied. "Have you received any word on the Aurora?" The Aurora, a steamer noted for her punctuality, was the pride of the Williams line, but Jon was concerned about her for she was now two weeks overdue.
"No, there have been no sightings," Alan informed him. He, too, was anxiously awaiting the steamer's arrival, but for far more personal reasons.
Jon nodded in frustration. "Keep me informed of any developments."
"I will," Alan assured him, and he was greatly relieved when Jon left. Though there was no danger of discovery that day, he fervently wished that Roland would hurry with his plan to buy Williams out so there would be no need for secrecy.
Alan waited until Jon had gone before leaving the warehouse himself; then he headed straight to Roland's office, entering by the well-guarded back door.
Roland looked up as he entered, and he immediately sensed that something was amiss. "Alan? What's wrong?"
"Jon was at the warehouse again."
"So?" He quirked a brow at the other man's panic.
"He's worried about the Aurora and wants to know the moment it puts in."
"Well he should be," Roland remarked sarcastically. "That damned ship is over two weeks late, and my customers are growing restless. They want the new girls desperately. We should be able to get top dollar for them."
Alan's eyes brightened at that thought. "Good, but how do I keep Williams out of the way while we get the merchandise off the ship?"
"You worry too much, Alan. Captain Mallory is on my personal payroll, and I'm sure he'll keep our shipment under wraps."
Roland's nonchalant attitude did little to ease Alan's nervousness, but he knew better than to argue. "Perhaps you're right."
"That's better." Roland favored him with a confident grin.
"How are your dealings with Williams going? Have you made any progress in taking over the company?"
A grimace was his answer. "The man's a stubborn fool, and he may be writing his own death warrant if he dares to cross me. It would not pain me in the least to see him out of the way. Catherine would inherit everything."
"You deal well with Catherine?" Harris asked pointedly, his insinuation obvious.
Roland pinned him with an icy glare, for he was determined to keep his liaison a secret. "She would be far easier to manipulate than her husband."
"Oh, I see," Harris said humbly, realizing that he had unexpectedly incurred Stuart's wrath.
"Now, go on back to the warehouse, and when word comes that the Aurora has been sighted I want to be the first informed, not Williams."
"Yes, Roland." Alan retreated hastily from the man's anger.
He hurried down the back stairway and out into the alley where his carriage awaited him. As he was about to climb into his vehicle, he noticed another conveyance parked a short distance back, its driver sitting in readiness. There was something vaguely familiar about the man, and though he signaled for his own driver to leave, as soon as they had turned the corner, he ordered him to stop.
Jumping down from the carriage, he returned to the entrance of the alley and watched with avid interest as the other conveyance pulled up to Roland's door and discharged its passenger. He could not readily identify the woman who descended for she was dressed in a nondescript fashion and was wearing a veil, but when the carriage came forward, he knew. Catherine Williams, in disguise, had gone to see Roland!
Alan's mind was racing. Was this all part of Roland's plan to gain control of the company, or were they lovers? Either way, this knowledge gave him some leverage should his own safety ever be threatened. Pleased with his discovery, he returned to his carriage and headed back to the warehouse.
Espri stood at the rail of the Providence staring out in wonder at the city that would be her new home. A brisk breeze swept across the bay, and despite the long-sleeved gown she wore, she was chilled. Shivering slightly, she moved to stand a little closer to Mitch.
"Cold?" he asked, tearing his gaze away from his beloved San Francisco to smile down at her.
Espri nodded. "And nervous, too."
"Don't worry." Mitch took Espri's hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Everything is going to work out just fine. In a little while we'll really be home."
"You're excited, aren't you?"
"Very," he admitted. "It's been almost a year since I was shanghaied. I just hope everything has gone well for Jon."
"Why wouldn't it?"
"He hadn't shown much interest in the business before I disappeared. I just hope all the responsibilities didn't overwhelm him."
"Don't worry. If he's anything like you, he's managed it well," she assured him, slipping her arm through his. Although the weeks since their reconciliation had been blissful, Espri had sensed a growing tension in Mitch as they'd neared port, and she was sure it was related to his coming reunion with his brother.
"Not too well." He chuckled. "I'd hate to return and find out I'd been so successfully replaced that I'm no longer needed."
"No one could ever replace you, Mitch." Espri's words were heavy with hidden meaning, and he drew her arm against his side.
"They'd better not," he growled for her
ears only.
Knowing how hot the fires between them burned and how easily they were stoked to life, she purposely changed the subject. "How soon will we be going ashore?"
"Vixen!" he muttered, understanding her tactic. "I imagine it will be at least an hour before Captain Clark can lower a launch for us. Have you heard any differently, Tommy?" Mitch suddenly drew the younger man, who stood apart from them, into their conversation.
"No," Tommy replied.
"Will you be glad to get back home, Tommy?" Espri asked. He had been quiet and withdrawn for most of the trip, and she wondered if he would ever get over his separation from Tikiru.
Tommy sighed. "I know my parents have been worried. In fact, I'm sure by now they think I'm dead. It will be good to put their worries to rest."
"Would you like to come and spend the night with us before you start back?" Mitch offered.
"Thank you, but no. It's a three-day ride to my home, and the sooner I get started the better. I'll be leaving as quickly as possible."
"How are you going to travel?"
"The captain has loaned me enough money for transportation and lodging, so I'll have no problem." Tommy seemed happy, but Espri and Mitch both sensed the sadness deep within him.
"I'm sorry things didn't work out better for you," Mitch told him consolingly. "But at least you're back and you have your whole life ahead of you."
"I know," Tommy agreed. "It's just that without Tikiru the future looks bleak."
"Just remember that she did escape with her life," Mitch said.
"I know," Tommy responded. "If she had been killed, I wouldn't have wanted to go on at all."
Tommy fell silent then, remembering the trauma of those last few days on the island. He knew that Mitch and Espri were right, but he also knew that he would never love another woman the way he'd loved Tikiru. The remembrance of her supple body and sweet innocence were burned into his mind, and he was certain no other woman could touch him so deeply. I love you, Tikiru, he whispered to the wind, and his shattered heart hoped that she knew it.
"Since it's almost time for us to disembark, why don't you go say your good-byes to Mildred?" Mitch suggested to Espri.
"I'll go find her right now." Espri started off, then paused. "Will you be here?"