Chapter Twenty-Eight
YOU LOOK ESPECIALLY BEAUTIFUL in candlelight.”
Jacqueline didn’t reply, didn’t even glance up from her plate.
“I can see four, no, five, different shades of gold in your hair,” Damon added.
Jack still said nothing.
“Giving me the silent treatment, are you?”
They were sitting at the table, had just finished eating dinner. Two weeks at sea and she still hadn’t clapped eyes on Jeremy. Damon had even stopped allowing them to send notes to each other! Her being nice to Damon hadn’t gotten her what she wanted most—a chance to see her brother, even though she’d asked several times. So she’d stopped being nice when Damon no longer needed her help with his wound, which had healed enough to no longer require elaborate bandaging. And he hadn’t told her anything more about Lacross or what kind of mission he was running. But he still took her up to the wheel every day, which she had to admit—to herself—she enjoyed.
“That was quite impressive what you did today, saving Jackie when the pirates tricked him into climbing all the way up to the topsail yard to fix a sail and he ended up hanging there by his hands. You kept him from panicking, Jack, and got him down safely.”
“I told you I know how to climb a mast,” she snapped.
“Just don’t do it again.”
She gave him a furious glare. “I want to see my friends!”
“Tell me about your family instead.”
“No.”
“Was that an adamant no, or do you just need coaxing?”
“Don’t ask about them,” she said stiffly. “You hurt one of us, you hurt us all. They’re every one of them your enemy now, and I’m not going to tell you about your enemies.”
“Then I’ll tell you what I know. Your mother is an American. It was her family home in Connecticut where we first met. You have three brothers, but no sisters. Your father is so formidable that no single man can fight him and win, and five at once can’t even bring him down.”
She couldn’t help smirking. “He trained with the best. His brother Anthony is the only one who can last a little while in a ring with him.”
“Good to know.”
“Why? You expect to meet my uncle Tony?” She chuckled. “Actually, I don’t doubt you will. They’re very close, you know. Uncle Tony often sails with my father, especially when a Malory needs rescuing. And after they get your note, it’s very possible that the entire family will sail this time, and there are now too many Malorys to count. Consider yourself warned.”
“That might depend on what I wrote this time.”
“What did you write?”
“If you and I had a more agreeable relationship, I might tell you.” The look he gave her left no doubt that he was talking about bed sharing, and bright color shot up her cheeks, which prompted him to add, “Still not ready to seduce me to your terms?”
“You’d slit your own throat?”
He laughed and stood up to walk to his desk. “I’ll think about your request.”
Her temper snapped with that answer, shooting her to her feet. “I want to see my friends! You said I could!”
He paused and leaned back against the side of his desk. He seemed a little surprised that she’d shouted those demands, but she didn’t care. The silent treatment hadn’t gotten her anywhere.
“I’ve changed my mind about that,” he said thoughtfully. “You shouldn’t see them while they’re still injured.”
Still? Still?! She flew at him in a fury and avoided his hand when he reached for her. She got in one solid blow because he hadn’t even stood up straight to deal with her. But his confidence cost him. She got a whoosh out of him, a temporary loss of breath, before he flipped her about and put both of his arms around her to keep her from doing any more damage to him. And he was still leaning against the bloody desk!
It reminded her so much of their last voyage together. Every time she’d attacked him, she’d ended up like this, contained by his arms, helpless against his strength. But she was too furious to give up. Her brother had been hurt so much he wasn’t close to healed yet. Damon had to pay for that!
Then she heard by her ear in the softest whisper, “Don’t stop struggling, Jack. I like holding you.”
She stopped.
“Truly? How disappointing.”
But he didn’t release her! She slammed her head back hard, might have hit his chin. She found his legs next with the soles of her feet and pushed to propel herself away from him, but even that didn’t work! But it made him turn and set her on his desk. She got off one swing that missed before he moved in closer, between her legs, and wrapped his arms around her again, trapping hers beneath his.
“Better.” He looked down at her. “I can do this all night, you know. Are you sure you want to?”
She answered by knocking her forehead against his upper chest.
“Splendid. Shall we make it even more interesting while we fight?”
He wasn’t fighting, he was just holding her. And that meant he was going to kiss her. Warned, she was able to evade his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from rubbing his cheek against hers, kissing her neck, licking her ear. She shivered, tried to slide her backside off the desk, but that just rubbed her against him. Oh, God, she wanted him, felt her body come alive with how much she did. It was beyond believable, but it was still happening. And he somehow knew it. But it changed nothing. She’d rather die than give in to those feelings for him.
He was holding her so close to him that the only way she could avoid his lips was to press her cheek to his chest. The compelling embrace was too intimate for her. She had a feeling he’d win if she looked at him. That was the trouble with his face, it was so handsome, it mesmerized her and made her forget, however briefly, she was at war with him. When that happened, it was too easy for him to kiss her, and far, far too easy for her to kiss him back.
She was still turning her head from side to side to avoid getting kissed. Such a slow, gentle little war that wasn’t at all satisfying other than that she was still winning it. She tried to get her arms out from under his until she realized her hands could touch the sides of his back. She dug her nails in so hard she probably poked holes in his shirt. Still he didn’t release her, but he picked her up and tossed her on the bed. Before she could get out of the way, he was on top of her.
It happened, of course it would. He easily captured her mouth with the weight of his body holding her down. She still struggled, but the weak attempt ended the moment she felt one of his hands moving over her, softly on her neck, shoulder, down her arm. Such a simple caress, and yet she reacted as if it were torrid. Heat that had nothing to do with blushing permeated her whole body. She was enjoying herself! But before she succumbed completely, she needed to turn this around and take the lead so she could persuade him to let her see Jeremy. She should have done this long ago. Both Damon and Jeremy had suggested it!
She wrapped her arms around his neck and started kissing him passionately. She felt the intensity of his passion rise, too, as he deepened his kisses, teasing her with his tongue, exciting her beyond her wildest imagining. Persuasion had never felt so good, so she wasn’t surprised when a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. He pulled back, his turquoise eyes lambent with desire, gazing down at her.
“Damon?” she said breathlessly.
He put his brow to hers and sighed. “It would be too easy to take advantage of you, which is why I won’t. When you want me, really want me, I’m yours. But we know that hasn’t happened yet. So for now, tell me what brought on the need to hurt me again? You’re worried because your brother is still recovering from his injuries?”
That subject was guaranteed to dump cold water on both of them. It certainly worked for her. But he was only guessing that Jeremy was her brother, and she still didn’t want to admit to Damon that he had two of her father’s children to barter with. So she didn’t answer immediately while she ran a few other possibilities through her mind. Jeremy’s best friend? Or . . . ?
She finally said, “He was, still is actually, one of my suitors.”
“A penniless suitor?”
“I exaggerated. He isn’t entirely without means. Only Percy is.”
“Too old for you, isn’t he?”
“Gads no, did you see how handsome he is?”
“No, actually. The lighting wasn’t good that night on the riverfront, and he was too bruised the last time I saw him, but what did you expect? He’s a very big man. It took quite a lot to take him down. Now don’t start again,” Damon added when she stiffened. “I confess, I haven’t seen him since last week, so the bruising is probably gone, but I doubt his ribs have fully mended yet.”
“Show me.”
“No.”
“Then I don’t believe you.”
“But I’m to believe you? That you would bring a suitor to a rendezvous with another suitor?”
“To make the masked mystery man jealous, why not?”
“Because you’re too blunt for a ploy like that, Jack.”
“In matters of the heart, I can be brutally blunt, I agree. But I also wanted to see which one of them would be more jealous of the other.”
“Process of elimination?”
“Exactly.”
“But you told me you weren’t really whittling down your list, or were you lying when you said you refused to marry this year?”
Did he have to remember everything she’d said? “It was time to figure out which suitors would wait around for me to try again next year, and which ones I should warn not to.”
“I thought you warned them all not to pursue you?”
“And have no fun a’tall?” It occurred to her that he was using this conversation just to find out things about her that she wouldn’t otherwise admit to. “Get off me.”
He put his cheek to hers again and said softly, “We’re still in the middle of a battle of sorts.”
She snorted. “No, we aren’t. I stopped shouting long ago.”
“You still did me damage.”
“How?” she demanded.
“Your nails.”
She winced to herself, having forgotten about that. Served him right, though, for turning that conflict on the desk into an embrace where her hands could reach some part of him. But she wasn’t hurting him now and stayed very, very still to get him to release her.
Nonetheless, she couldn’t resist softly reminding him, “I hate you.”
“I promise you won’t always. Does that make a difference?”
“A promise you can’t keep? No difference a’tall.”
“But already you don’t hate me as much. In the Caribbean, yes, your rage was beyond containing after you found that bloody ransom note. You would have killed me then in an instant. But what you feel now is only an echo of what you felt then. Why don’t you admit it?”
“You ought to stop thinking you know me when you don’t. Now let me up!”
He sighed again, deeply this time. When he inhaled, his chest pressed more tightly against hers, making her nipples peak, which shot heat up her cheeks this time. But he rolled to the side of the bed and got up. She rose more slowly, propping herself up on her elbows, and then was trapped in place, watching him remove his shirt and examine the damage her nails had done. Good God, she had to stop seeing him half-naked like this. Even aware of that, she couldn’t manage to look away. But finding him so blatantly masculine, so incredibly attractive, brought her anger back. It wasn’t fair!
And why the devil wasn’t he angry? It certainly wasn’t in his tone when he merely said, “I should cut your nails.”
“I’d like to see you try.”
He glanced back at her with a grin. “That might be fun. But be easy. You’ve—mostly—been behaving, Jack. Resist being stubborn for once and keep the bed for yourself. As you can tell, it’s more comfortable.” He put a hand up to forestall her getting back into high dudgeon. “I meant alone. I’ll use the cot.”
Well, that seduction did get her the bed at least. She laughed to herself before she turned over and got comfortable. But tomorrow, one way or another, she’d see her brother.