Chapter 18 #3
Going in search of Christian, for she fully intended to demand he take her home, she made her way above deck, only to discover it bustling with activity.
The one detail in particular that caught her immediate notice was that the mainsail was being hoisted.
As understanding dawned, it took mere seconds for her anger to resurface.
Christian, the cur, stood upon the foredeck, his legs set imposingly apart as he overlooked the preparations for sail, barking orders to his men.
Enraged, she marched toward him, fists clenched.
“Just what do you think you’re doing? And why have you brought so many of my belongings aboard this—this smuggler’s den of yours? I do not intend to remain!”
His eyes glinted with amusement. For a long moment it seemed he wouldn’t reply at all, and then when he did, his tone mocked her.
“It seems to be obvious, m’mselle, I am readying the ship for sail.
” He eyed her gown and lifted the corners of his mouth.
“As for your belongings,” he told her somewhat scathingly, “I believe you’ll find that you will indeed need them”—his brow rose—”unless, of course, you prefer to wear your nightwear instead. ”
“Oh yes! Of course,” she replied in an acid tone. “I love to parade about in my nightgown! More than that, even, I love to be abducted in the middle of the night and brought against my will to a den of thieves! Indeed I do!” God help her, she wanted to slap the self-satisfied smirk from his face.
He gave her a quelling look, narrowed his eyes, then glanced away as though to remind her that his men were listening, as well. “Watch your tongue,” he warned. “I’d loathe to have to—”
“Cut it out?” she demanded indignantly. “Famous! Smuggler, traitor, ravisher of innocents—and butcher now, as well! You would, wouldn’t you?”
“Kiss you?” he murmured low. His lips curved slightly, taunting her. “What do you think, mon amour?” His smiled deepened, though it never reached his eyes. “Wouldn’t I love to, indeed?”
Jessie shuddered at his veiled warning. “Nay!” she said quickly, “I-I meant that you would cut out my tongue!”
“Don’t tempt me,” he said drolly, lifting a brow, and cocking his head.
“You! I insist you take me back to Charlestown at once! Now! You don’t need me here! Nor do I wish to remain.”
“Nay.”
“Nay?” she repeated incredulously.
He nodded. “I believe that is what I said.”
“But you cannot keep me here!”
“Can I not?” Once again he cocked his head and lifted a brow in challenge.
“Nay, you cannot!” she countered, bristling. “I can do no more for Ben—or Jean Paul—than anyone else aboard this accursed ship—and I will not remain to be abused by you!”
He eyed her sharply. “M’mselle, I’ve not so much as lifted a finger against you, but I warn you, I’m sorely tempted this moment to put you over my knee and paddle that delightfully tempting derriere of yours, audience or nay.
” He lifted his chin, indicating the scrutiny of his men.
By now, all had suspended their chores in order to watch them with unconcealed interest.
Jessie followed his gaze, mortified to have been threatened in such an intimate manner before so many watchful pairs of eyes—and ears! “Oh!” she gasped. “You just bloody well try!”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Threats, m’mselle?” He actually laughed then.
Jessie narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m not completely at your mercy, you realize,” she reminded him, chafing at his arrogance.
“Ben remains below deck.” In an angry whisper, she confided, “I would need but tell him what you did to me back in your cabin, and he would surely find cause enough to call you out!” In truth, it was the very last thing Jessie intended for her cousin to do—particularly in his present state—but it seemed the only thing with which to threaten the incorrigible beast.
Christian never blinked an eye at her dire proclamation, but said quite amiably, “That would be a rather unfortunate mistake on his part.” Though his tone was casual, his eyes seemed to bore through her with brilliant intensity.
And then he said soberly, “If you care at all for his life... you’ll do no such thing.
Ben’s a good man—a bit green about the edges perhaps, but even so, I’d like to see him live long enough to get over loving you.
You see, my love, he doesn’t realize it yet, but you’re unequivocally the worst thing that could ever have happened to him. ”
Jessie’s eyes widened at his cruel words.
“Aye,” he said low. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know.” His arms crossed, his legs set arrogantly apart, he challenged her to deny it.
She couldn’t—not with what she’d heard below—and her face heated under his scrutiny.
He turned from her long enough to order his men back to work, and he was revealed to her fully in that moment, for he was within his element at last, feral and magnificent.
Despite herself, the sight of him stole her breath away; his features hard and hawk like, and with his dark, unbound hair flowing, he was the Hawk.
With his snug black breeches and loose white shirt billowing in the breeze, he’d never appeared more ominous than he did at the moment.
Evidently his men thought so as well, for without him having said a word, all eyes turned from them at once.
Satisfied that their conversation would no longer be overheard, he returned his gaze to her. “In future,” he told her, “I would suggest you refrain from bedeviling Ben—trust me, love, a man can only take so much.”
There was nothing of the man she’d thought she’d known in him now, nothing. She truly didn’t know him. Had she ever? she wondered bitterly. “How dare you speak to me so rudely?”
“Had he been himself last night,” he continued coldly, ignoring her angry objection, “and not beset with fever and pain, you’d no longer be virgin—I assure you, cousin or nay.
Or,” he suggested, his tone fierce, “perhaps that isn’t a concern any longer.
” He narrowed his eyes, and asked softly, “Is it, Jessamine?”
Jessie’s face flushed a bright crimson. “Oh! That is none of your concern—though I assure you my cousin is a gentleman through and through—unlike you!”
“Is that so,” he replied evenly, giving her a ruthless smile.
Christian had to suppress the urge to grin outright.
He’d managed to discover what he’d needed to know, and the truth was that he was well pleased with the answer. Ben hadn’t touched her, he was certain of it, and neither had anyone else for that matter; for she wore a virgin’s blush.
“I really must insist you take me back to Charlestown!”
Christian shook his head, sighing. “Nay, Jess. The fact is that your uncle has already bandied word that you and Ben have sailed for England.” He grinned at her then, unable to suppress his glee.
“It seems you have developed a nasty case of homesickness. As you see... I cannot allow you to go back, for in doing so you’d raise suspicions now, and I will not permit you to do that, my love.
After all, ’tis my father’s life you would endanger, as well. ”
Christian could see the fierce determination leave her features, though it was immediately replaced by resentment.
Was his company so disagreeable to her?
Did she truly loathe him so much?
He couldn’t allow himself to believe it, for if he did, a part of him would shrivel and die.
He thought to put the issue of her leaving at rest once and for all, and he said, “We’ll be gone only as long as necessary, and if you endeavor to stay out of the way, ’twill pass all the easier for you.
Rest assured, Jessie. I am no more thrilled for your company than you are for mine. ”
Her expression became mutinous suddenly, her green eyes reflecting the depths of her animosity, buffeting him as surely as though she’d struck his cheek with her palm. “I—well—and—truly—despise—you!”
His jaw grew taut, and his chest tightened, but he managed a nod. “Despise me all you wish,” he allowed, “only stay the hell out of my sight.”
He felt little satisfaction when she stiffened as though she’d been cuffed, and less when she turned and stalked away. He forced himself to let her go, telling himself that her anger was a welcome barrier between them.
Without it, he was lost.